Chapter 23
23
Lachlan didn’t want Maura to be farther than about a foot away from him—a distance from which he could still put his own body between her and danger. She didn’t seem to want that either.
She even insisted on coming outside with him to document what had just happened. He lent her an extra pair of snowshoes and they tromped out onto the cold deck to take photos and a sample of the blood smeared on the glass.
Just in case, he strapped his rifle to his back.
“The wolf might be rabid,” he explained as he led the way around the frozen lilac bushes. “That could explain a few things.”
“Would it, though? Is that what a wolf with rabies does? Have you ever seen a wolf in your front yard before?”
He didn’t answer. Of course he hadn’t. Wolves generally stayed deep in the mountains, far away from humans. When he was doing fieldwork around the glacier, occasionally he’d hear a distant howl, but that was as close as he’d come to a wolf. Bears, on the other hand…he’d encountered plenty of those. They didn’t seek out conflict with humans, but food smells attracted them and they weren’t afraid to follow their noses.
Maura stayed so close behind him that their snowshoes kept bumping into each other. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay inside while I do this?” he asked again.
“No. We should stick together. Tell me how to take the sample and you can guard us while I do it.”
He heard the nervousness threading her voice. He got it, of course, but his brain was already sifting through explanations for the wolf’s behavior. Instead of feeling fear, he was wildly curious. With his snowshoes still planted in the snow, he twisted to face her.
“We just have to figure it out,” he told her. “Everything’s scary until you understand it.”
“That’s bullshit,” she said bluntly. Her breath released a cloud of steam in the air. “Even if I understand why a wolf tried to attack us through a plate-glass window, it will never not be scary.”
He smiled ruefully. “Fair point. But at least it won’t be ‘horror movie’ scary.”
“Horror movies don’t scare me.” She gestured for him to go ahead. “They’re just an excuse to cuddle.”
“Then what are we doing out here when we could be inside cuddling? I’m doing this all wrong.”
His joking around made her tense expression ease. “Actually, this is kind of hot. The badass scientist searching for answers in the bloody snow.”
“I’ll take it.”
After a short hesitation, she held his rifle while he took photos of everything—the window, the trail of blood droplets, the erratic path of the wolf footprints. Once he’d documented everything, he scraped blood and saliva off the window into a plastic sample bag.
As he worked, they listened for any sounds from the forest that would alert them to the return of the wolf. All was quiet until an ermine scurried from under the house, making Maura squeal. They watched its sleek white body disappear against the snow, so only the black splotch on its raised tail identified it.
He watched it go, something about its graceful glide triggering a thought. “That ermine is acting perfectly normal. Whatever is affecting the wolves and the moose isn’t bothering that guy.”
“The ermine at Pinky’s place seem fine too, except for the ones that were acting like refugees. Maybe it’s because they don’t roam beyond their own territory unless they have to?”
“Good theory.” He’d been thinking the same thing. Whatever was going on, it was spilling over into Firelight Ridge from somewhere else, possibly Wind Valley, according to the maps they’d consulted. But what? And why there in particular?
“Are you almost done?” Maura asked with a shiver. “I checked the outside temperature gauge and that line was fighting to get above zero.”
“Yep, just about done,” he said absently, scanning the wolfprints below the window.
“What are you looking for?”
“Tufts of hair, forest debris, anything the wolf might have left behind. Ah-ha!” He bent down and carefully scooped up a handful of snow. Atop the pile on his glove was a clump of dirt. He plucked another baggie from his pocket and dumped it in.
“Dirt?” Maura said skeptically.
“Soil sample. The terrain around here varies, and the chemical composition might tell us where the wolf came here from.”
“Maybe that dirt came from the forest he just ran through.”
“With this snow cover and frozen ground? It’s possible, but it’s also possible that it comes from his den.”
She shivered again. “Okay, genius, you make a good point. Can we go inside now?” The rifle was shaking against her shoulder and she kept squinting to keep the cold air away from her eyeballs.
He knew how that felt. Sometimes, on very cold days, he wore two sets of sunglasses to keep the wind off his eyes.
He took the rifle back from her before she accidentally shot the sky, and gestured toward the house. “Go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”
She waited stubbornly. “We go together. I’ll wait until you’re done.”
His respect for her ticked up another notch. She could have waited inside the warm house for him, but she’d braved the cold and her fear so that they’d face the danger together.
Damn it, hadn’t she already done enough to make him fall for her? Why did she keep doing more? It was verging on unfair.
Back inside, they stripped off their outer gear and left it dripping in the arctic entry. He went to heat up water for hot chocolate—the sugar and chocolate made it the best choice for thawing out, in his opinion. Maura crouched next to the woodstove and added a couple of logs to the fire.
She was getting the hang of this wild Alaska life. Her ability to adapt impressed the hell out of him. Maura was a survivor, but even beyond that, she had an adventurous spirit.
He brought her a mug of hot chocolate and stood next to the fire, warming his toes.
“As soon as the store is open, I’m going to call up my buddy the wolf expert. I don’t want to put these samples in the mail, so I might take them to Fairbanks myself. There’s a lab at the university I can use. I want to take a good look through a microscope, and have them run some tests as well.”
She glanced up at him, the firelight flickering across her black hair. From here, standing above her, he could see the brown roots—a reminder that she was keeping an unknown number of secrets from him. “You’re leaving?”
“Just for a few days.”
“But The Fang…don’t you have to…” She trailed off, biting her lower lip. “Sorry. I’m being such a baby. I don’t want you to leave.”
An idea struck him. “Why don’t you come with me?”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.
“They have restaurants there,” he said, enticingly. “Aren’t you tired of the soup of the day at The Fang? In Fairbanks they have hotels with endless hot showers and indoor bathrooms.”
Was that a moan he heard from her direction? He considered it almost a low blow to mention indoor plumbing, which he had, but Pinky didn’t.
“There’s a Thai place I know that serves the most incredible Tom Khat soup, they use Copper River salmon and lemongrass they grow themselves in a greenhouse. We could see the Chena Hot Springs. Imagine soaking in a natural hot spring on a clear night with aurora borealis in full swing overhead. You’ve never seen anything so?—”
“Stop.” She flung up a hand to interrupt his flow. “I can’t go. I can’t leave Firelight Ridge.”
“Why not? Pinky can take care of himself, I promise you. He’ll probably have a list of things for us to pick up for him.”
“No, I know, it’s…” She shook her head, looking so distressed he regretted ever bringing it up.
“Never mind,” he said quickly. “I’ll be more efficient if I go by myself. I promise to bring you some Thai takeout.”
As she turned back to the woodstove, setting her mug on the coffee table, he saw a tear roll down her cheek. Oh no. Somehow he’d made things worse. A tear ? What had he said that could possibly cause her to cry?
“Maura?” he said gently.
She buried her face in her hands, which made her lose her balance, until she was on her butt on the floor, her back propped against the couch. She was fully crying now, it seemed. Maybe it was the aftershock of the wolf incident?
He stood helplessly, not knowing if he should hug her, or fetch something for her, or quickly invent a machine that took words back after you’d said them.
“It’s not you,” she sobbed into her hands. “I mean, it is you a little because you’re so sweet. You’re the kindest man I’ve ever known, and I feel terrible because I don’t deserve it.”
He recoiled at that description, which didn’t feel right to him at all. “No…Maura, please don’t say that?—”
“Just let me talk, okay?”