rel="nofollow" href="#uc093dfe5-827c-56a4-b3a2-83145b129a46">Chapter Three
Joe had rushed to Skylar’s home upon getting the call from Dispatch. Simply hearing her name had been all he’d needed to become immersed in those old familiar feelings he always got whenever he thought about the tall, sexy blonde. Feelings he wasn’t prepared to let emerge right now, because then he’d have to struggle with what had once felt like heartache.
Hell, who was he kidding? It had been, and still was, heartache.
Save for occasionally spying her walking into the grocery store or out of the local café, he hadn’t spoken to her for almost a year. That had been a purposeful avoidance.
Long, tawny blond hair spilled over her shoulders. And that cowboy hat she always wore shaded her blue eyes, but in the rich evening twilight, a flash of sun from across the lake created glints like sapphires in those irises. And when she parted her soft pink lips to speak, Joe’s heart thundered.
“I don’t know what you think I should know, Joe,” she said. “How can I know who was shooting at me?”
Drawn back to the moment, he briefly met her gaze—and almost fell into that heartache again. But he managed to snag a grip on the present and pull himself up and into business mode.
“It’s standard procedure to ask a lot of questions after an incident like this,” he said. “Any details you can provide that might help me figure this out?” He cast his gaze across the lake again. “It had to have come from across the lake.”
“Really? That far away? It’s a good three-quarters of a mile to the other side.”
“Sniper rifles can hit a target miles away. My brother, Jason, used to be one of the best when he was…well.” Jason didn’t like his family to talk about the fact he used to be a CIA agent. And most didn’t know that he had been. “Not that it was such a rifle. Nothing’s been confirmed yet. But whoever made that shot…”
It wasn’t right to be impressed at a moment like this, but that was some distance to the other side of the lake. Had to have been a boat driving by.
Skylar blew out a breath, but it had a nervous vibration to it. She suddenly stepped to the side and wobbled. Joe caught her arm and shoulder against his chest and hugged her. The scent of pine and lemons teased his nose. He slid a hand down to her waist and across her back to offer her a sturdy hold.
“You okay?”
She nodded, but her expression indicated she was far from okay.
“Let’s get you inside. I don’t think it’s wise to stand out here.”
“You think they could still be out there? It’s been over an hour.”
“Unlikely.” He helped her walk toward the deck. “But you could use a cup of tea or something.”
“Brandy,” she said, then laughed. “Oh, Joe, I guess it did throw me. I was fine after I called the police. But now…”
As they approached the deck stairs, a dog came padding out from the forest that edged the north side of the house.
But wait. That was no dog.
“Stella has finally decided you pass muster.” Skylar gripped the deck railing and sat on the second step from the bottom. “Just give me a minute, will you?”
“Of course.” While Skylar sat to settle her nerves, Joe whistled to the approaching animal. “A timber wolf.”
“She’s my rescue sweetie. Hey, Stella.”
The beautiful wolf approached on light footsteps, her gold eyes and coal nose aimed for Joe. Her tail was held slightly erect, with a bit of a kink to it. Warning, but cautiously optimistic. He’d known that Skylar had found a wolf pup in a trap a few years ago, and thought she’d rehabilitated it and sent it off to its pack. But to keep it as a pet?
By instinct, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head as Stella neared. One thing a human should never do was look a wolf directly in the eye. It was a sign of challenge and authority that he dared not risk with this unfamiliar wolf. He noticed a slight hop to her step. She managed very well on three legs.
Raising his head, Joe held out his hand but did not stretch toward the curious animal. She would sniff him out, decide what she thought about him. As she had likely been doing when she’d been hiding in the woods. A wolf’s sense of smell was far superior to that of a dog’s. Stella had already decided whether he was friend or foe. Because of that, he felt honored that she’d come out to greet him.
The wolf approached on careful footsteps, stretching out her neck to sniff at Joe’s fingers. Her tail unkinked and waggled slightly.
“I spent a lot of time with her in the early months,” Skylar commented from the step. “Nearly twenty-four/seven, sleeping with her on a mattress for weeks, acclimating her to my human self and letting her know I would not harm her.”
She’d taken the right steps for a wolf to live with humans. But Joe always favored reintroducing the animal back into the wild before such drastic measures were taken. On the other hand, if her pack had abandoned her, as they may do to the sick or wounded, he could be thankful Skylar had been there for her.
“I suspect her mother was killed. Otherwise, I’m sure she would have stayed around her pup in the trap.”
“Very possible. Wolves will never be pets,” Joe said quietly. “They will always have the wild in them. Right, Stella?”
The wolf’s tongue lashed his fingers, and he let out the breath he had been holding. Just one lick. She wasn’t going to get overly enthusiastic about a new human, but she did seem to trust him. As proof, she allowed him to ruffle his hand over her fur and he went for the sweet spot behind her ear, giving it a light scratch. The wolf sat before him, reveling in the attention he gave her.
“She’s beautiful. I’m honored to meet you, Stella. But where’s your pack?”
“Pretty sure she was from the Boundary Edge pack,” Skylar said. “I checked the records with the wolf center. They hadn’t recorded any births, but they don’t have twenty-four/seven watch, either. And only one of the pack males is tagged with a tracking device. They were able to tell me about a year after I’d had Stella that one of the females was missing. They hadn’t found her body. So I’m sticking with the dead-mother theory. Stella was a long way from home. That pack travels about ten miles north from here.”
“I’m familiar with that pack,” Joe said. “Well, their territory. Never gotten close to any of them, but I have tracked them before. So Stella was found in a leg trap?”
“It was actually a snare. She was near death. Had been gnawing at her own leg. I waited and watched for other wolves, but there were none close. I figured she was about three months old at the time. It’s been almost three years. She’ll never be mine, but I am her person. I did take her to the pack rendezvous point about a month after she’d been with me. Not a single wolf showed.”
“They were watching,” Joe guessed. “But by then Stella was marked by human scent.” He combed his fingers through Stella’s soft summer pelt. The brown, gray and black fur had likely received a good combing from Skylar, for he didn’t notice any unpreened
