coyotes in Illinois?”
“Possibly, but not in Chicago.”
“You lived there your entire life?”
“Yes.”
“And never left the city?”
“No.”
He took her elbow and stepped into the street. “Well, Los Angeles isn’t as big as Chicago, yet. It’s growing though, every day more land surrounding the city is bought up and developed. That growth is invading on the coyotes’ and other critters’ native hunting grounds.”
Another shiver rippled through her. “Native hunting grounds?”
“Yes.”
That sounded so primitive, and made her wary. “You’re just saying that to scare me.”
He frowned. “Why would I do that? I have no reason to try and scare you. This area has always had coyotes. It was cropland and orchards at one time. Julia still has a large plot of land behind her place that grows produce. The crops bring in the rabbits and the rabbits bring in the coyotes.”
That made sense, but didn’t make her feel any more comfortable. Neither did the darkness. She’d never been overly brave when it came to that. Junior had always called her a scaredy-cat because she’d refused to go anywhere in the dark alone. She’d overcome some of that, but those yipping sounds were enough to make a grown man quiver.
Not Jack though. He didn’t appear nervous at all.
He was tall, much taller than her, and broader. His white shirt showed the thickness of his arm muscles, and that did provide her a small sense of comfort. “Do they attack people?”
“Coyotes?”
“Yes.”
“No, they are more afraid of you than you are of them.”
She doubted a coyote, or any other animal could ever feel the same amount of fear toward her as she did toward them. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
They stepped up on the curb in front of the diner and then walked along the front of the building. There were no streetlights here, no light except for the moon, which wasn’t nearly as bright as she wished it could be. “How? How do you know that?”
“Because unlike humans, animals are smart. They won’t attack anything bigger than themselves.”
“Unless cornered,” she said, recalling she’d been told that at some time. “What if we corner one?”
“We won’t corner one. Coyotes are smarter than that.”
That didn’t satisfy her. “How do you know that?”
“Because I’ve seen plenty. They sneak into the back filming lot all the time, but as soon as they see a person, they run.” He led her around the corner of the diner building.
It was even darker back here, and she shivered again, held Grace tighter. There was a cluster of trees between them and Julia’s house, she could make that much out, and she wasn’t looking forward to walking on the little pathway that led through the trees.
The trail narrowed and she had to either step behind or in front of him.
He paused.
She nearly stumbled.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
She denied the truth. “I’m not scared, I just like being prepared.” That said, she came up with a plan. “We’ll need to run if we see a coyote and I’m not sure of the way.”
He chuckled. “Do you have any idea how fast a coyote can run?”
“No. Do you?”
“Yes. Faster than both of us put together.” He tugged on her arm and started walking again. “You really are a city girl.”
She hung close to his side, and chose not to reply. She might be a city girl, but also had good reason to be afraid of the dark. Chicago might not have had coyotes, but it had all sorts of things that could attack you late at night.
In the dark.
Like this.
“Don’t fret, we’re almost there.”
She forced her feet to keep moving as they grew closer and closer to the cluster of trees.
* * *
Jack bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He might never have seen someone as scared as she was right now. Someone who’d never heard the sound before could be scared by a coyote’s howl. There was an eeriness to it like no other. But it was also easy to get used to. He remembered falling to sleep to the sound. It had been a long way between towns while his parents had been acting in playhouses across the center of the nation. During good years, they’d traveled by trains. Not so good years, it had been a wagon and horse. Once it had been a mule, one that had been too stubborn to move most of the time.
He and Joe had spent hours pulling that stupid critter forward, and had slept a lot of nights beneath that wagon. Remembering listening to coyotes was a good memory. That meant it hadn’t been raining or snowing. There had been nights he’d probably have frozen to death if Joe hadn’t snuggled up against him. Kept him warm.
A walk down memory lane wasn’t what he needed right now.
“So,” he started, looking for something else to focus on. “You lived in Chicago your entire life, but don’t have any family there?”
“No. None.”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything because concern tickled his spine. He should be able to see lights on at Julia’s house. It was just on the other side of the grove of trees.
Side by side, they stepped through the trees, and he surveyed the house. The dark house. “Julia must have already gone to bed.”
“Is it that late?” Her voice quivered slightly.
“No, actually, her car is gone,” he answered, nodding toward where it was usually parked. “She must have had somewhere to go tonight.”
“Maybe someone borrowed her car,” she said hopefully.
“Let’s go see,” he said, stepping forward.
A few minutes later, Jack wasn’t sure if he was happy or not. No one answered the door and the place was locked tight. He couldn’t leave them here, not without Julia home, and Grace was getting fussy. Hungry. Wet. Both maybe. He didn’t know.
He had offered to take them to his apartment, and would, if necessary, but he wasn’t so sure that was a good idea.
Grace let out a solid wail.
Helen talked softly to the baby, but her
