DESI'S RESCUE Page 2

  "In a meadow up top of the Shrine." He came into the room, stood there looking around. "Where do you want me to put him?"

  Desi looked around. She felt enormously tired, weepy, overwhelmed. Not at all her usual attitude. With a powerful effort, she focused on the task at hand and opened a cupboard. From a neat, freshly folded stack, she took out a sheet and spread it out over the coffee table. "Here. Let's take a look at him."

  The cub shivered as the New Zealander's T-shirt fell away, and he looked at them miserably, his irises still slightly bluish with his babyhood. "Damn," she said again. "I'm so sorry, sweetie." Gently she touched his body, head to haunches, feeling for marks, wounds, injuries. Aside from the bloody cut on his haunch, already closing, there appeared to be nothing wrong.

  "Is he all right?" the man asked.

  "I think so. I'm going to run back to the clinic and get a few things—some gauzes and some formula to feed him."

  "There's wolf formula?" He grinned. "Like baby milk?"

  Desi smiled. "Exactly. I'll go get some for him. Do you mind holding him awhile longer?"

  The man picked up the baby and cuddled him close, like a human child. "Could I feed him?"

  Desi nodded. Somebody had to. He'd earned it. "But don't get too attached," she added. "He's a wolf, not a dog."

  "Got it."

  Desi fled. Walking quickly, she told herself it was just her emotional state this morning that made him look so unbelievably appealing, but she knew it wasn't. She liked his size, his eyes, his muscles, his resonant voice, the accent.

  But it was his hands, moving so gently, so surely, so protectively over the body of the baby wolf that electrified her.

  Don't even think about it, scolded a voice in her head.

  She had enough problems: developers after her land; a fluff head who wanted to build a spa next door, thus compromising the wolf sanctuary; a sister getting married and … oh, yes, that pesky little matter of being investigated for the murder of her late husband.

  Don't even think about it.

  * * *

  Tam gratefully sat down after the vet left him in the cabin with the pup. In the distance a wolf howled, long and eerie, and the sound raised gooseflesh on his arms, the hackles on his neck—an ancient genetic response. Although, theoretically it wasn't his genetics. There were no wolves in New Zealand. No wolves or lions or even rabbits. No native mammals at all, unless you counted sea mammals—seals and so forth.

  The pup trembled faintly next to his belly, a soft low whine coming from his throat. The sound just about ripped his heart half out of his chest. "It'll be all right, mate," he murmured, rubbing a velvety ear between his thumb and forefinger. "Sorry about your mum, but we'll get you fixed up."

  The door swung open and the woman came back in, carrying a plastic box of various things. "I didn't want to take him into the clinic because his mother is there. It'll break my heart to hear him wail."

  "I thought vets were tough."

  "Mostly," she said. An Amazon, a solid five-ten, with big hands and a direct gaze. He liked her braid, thick as his forearm and the rich earthen color of a Kauri tree, and her wide, sensual mouth, which belied the no-nonsense attitude she put forth.

  He liked her, but she was a bit bound up, wasn't she. He grinned to himself. Make no mistake, beneath the facade was a passionate woman waiting to get out. "You can put him down for a minute," she said. "Let me clean up the wound."

  He obliged, leaving his hand close by for the pup to lick as she efficiently but gently cleaned the wound.

  "It doesn't need stitches," she said, "which is good." Her mouth turned down, and again he had the sense that she was blinking back tears. "His mama took the bullet for him."

  "Bastards."

  Her gaze flew up to his. "Exactly."

  She had long eyelashes, very dark eyes, angles to the bones of her face that made her look exotic. "You don't look anything like your sister," he commented, thinking of the delicately made, blond Juliet Rousseau.

  Her face shuttered. "So I've been told."

  Oops, he thought, and filed that away. Couldn't be easy to have a sister who looked exactly like a Barbie doll. "Just an observation, love."

  She nodded curtly, and took a bottle from the basket. Shook it briskly. "How do you know Juliet?"

  "Josh Mad Calf is a friend of mine."

  "Is he? Mine, too." She tested the temperature of the bottle against her inner wrist. "He's a good guy."

  "Yeah?" Tam held out his hand. "Don't think I've introduced myself. Tamati Neville. You can call me Tam."

  "Desi." She took the hand, shook, let it go. All very efficient. "Tam. The New Zealander. Everyone talks about you. All the women, anyway."

  "Yeah?" He grinned. Slowly.

  Desi looked weary. "Do me a favor. Save the charm for somebody else. I'm not charmable."

  He raised an eyebrow. A challenge he couldn't possibly resist. "That sounds like throwing down a gauntlet to me."

  "Trust me," she said, rocking back on her heels. "It's not."

  Tam smiled, ever so slightly. "All right. No problem."

  "Do you want to feed him?"

  He nodded. "I do."

  She gave him a bottle. "Have at it. I'm going to see about where to put him to sleep."

  "Outside?"

  "He's been outside since he was born."

  "With his mum!"

  She took a breath. "Look, you're thinking Disney. He's a wild animal. I hope we can teach him how to be one."

  "Like Born Free?"

  Desdemona grinned. "Something like that." She snapped her fingers. "I just thought of something. You feed the pup. I'll be back in a few minutes."

  * * *

  Chapter 2

  « ^ »

  Desi had started the wolf rescue five years ago, when, over the course of a few months, three wolf mixes had been brought to her in various states of despair or disaster, each one the victim of humans not realizing that the wild, free nature of a wolf was not that of a pet. She now offered refuge to a baker's dozen wolves or mixes who had nowhere else to go, and she provided some healing relief for a few, like the pup, who were out of the wild. Others were rescued from a variety of situations, like the female Desi sought now.

  In a kennel made warmer by a layer of hay in one corner, Desi found Fir. The dark gray female huddled in one corner, tail draped over her nose.

  "Hey, baby," Desi murmured.

  The wolf lifted her nose, blinked and with a sigh put her head back down.

  The young female had been abandoned by her owner and arrived at the center two months ago, starving. Pregnant. Maladjusted by nature to living in a home with a family, and untrained to survive on her own in the wild, Fir embodied everything that was wrong with humans breeding wolf "dogs." They were not pets. They were not domestic. They did not thrive in homes and towns, or even on ranches. They belonged in the wild, in packs.

  Period.

  A Gunnison animal control officer had recognized that Fir was a wolf and pregnant, and brought her to Desi, who chose not to terminate the wolf's pregnancy when she was in such poor health. But—perhaps it was regular food, a warm place to sleep, even the hormones coursing through her—Fir seemed to rally, warily joining the firmly established pack, if only at the edges.

  Then a month ago her litter had been born, and they'd failed to thrive. Not surprising, given the terrible shape of the mother. Desi had been relieved. The pups were a pit bull-wolf mix, and would only have faced a life of hostility and opposition, completely unsuited to life in a world where their hunting instincts were so thoroughly thwarted or worse, misused.

  Fir had not done well since losing her pups. She wouldn't eat. Wouldn't bond with any other creatures, canine or human, wouldn't take care of herself. Her milk was likely dried, but Desi wondered if the new cub might be a good way to bring Fir back to the world of the living. Maybe if the cub suckled, the milk would come.

  It was worth a try. She knelt and held out her hands for t
he she-wolf to smell. Fir perked up a moment, carefully reading the scent story on Desi's hands and jeans. She gave Desi's hand a short lick. "All right, then," she said aloud, rubbing the animal's ears for a moment. "Let's see what you think of a baby who isn't yours."

  She jogged back to the cabin and flung open the door—and halted. In spite of herself, she grinned. Hard to resist that picture. The pup had fallen soundly, deeply asleep against Tam's smooth belly, and the very faint sound of a snore came from him.

  Tam grinned at her. "I can tame even a savage beast," he said with a quick wink.

  The pup was adorable, all round head and paw's. His fur was dark, mottled with the red that would eventually appear. "He is very cute, I have to say. She gestured. "Bring him out. Let's introduce him to a possible new mother, see how she does."

  "Won't she hurt him?"

  Desi shook her head. "Doubtful. We'll stick around and see what her body language tells us. But he's a baby. It should be all right."

  Tam stood up and followed her out. The wolves paced along the fences curiously, eyes watching them, gold and brown and even some blue. There were red wolves, gray wolves, white and black. Some were full wolf, others mixed with a wide variety of dog breeds. The undercoat of many of them was starting to molt out, and the tufts fluttered on the breeze.

  None of them spoke, though several lifted their noses to the air, trying to see who had come into their midst.

  Next to her, Tam paused in respect. "They're fantastic. Where do they come from?"

  "All over. Some puppy mills, some well-meaning people who didn't realize they got a wolf instead of a husky mix." She lifted the catch on the gate that led to an open-air hallway between kennels. To the left was the common area where the animals spent most of their time. It was several heavily fenced acres, forested and rocky, even some natural springs. Individual kennels, each with a cavelike shelter and straw on the ground, housed pairs of wolves at night.

  "He's our alpha." Desi pointed to a tall, long-legged male, with a bluish tint to his coat and a brilliant white chest. His hide was crisscrossed with old wounds. "He was a rescue from the dog fights. We get a lot of rescues out of New Mexico here."

  "Dog fights? Hard to believe such things still exist."

  Desi wondered if he knew he held the pup more closely to his chest. "It's barbaric," she agreed, "but I assure you it still exists."

  "I'd kill them if I saw it," he said, and his jaw lifted in a way that made her know he meant it.

  "I'd help you." Waving him through in front of her, she closed the gate, and headed beneath a roofed area. "Here's Fir."

  The wolf lifted her head as they came in, and Desi took the pup from Tam, his body relaxed from food and comfort. As Desi took him, however, he jolted into wakefulness and made a series of whimpering, whining noises.

  Fir's head lifted urgently, and she sniffed the air. She didn't quite stand up and come rushing over, but it was a good sign, nonetheless. "What do you think, Fir? I brought you a son if you want him."

  Gingerly Desi moved closer, keeping her body at the ready in case Fir decided that she'd rather kill him than nurture him. She doubted it, but better to be safe than sorry.

  Fir nosed the baby, head to toe, checking ears, rear end, belly, paws. The pup endured it, making mewling sounds. Desi put the baby down and stepped back. "Now we see."

  The pup, awkward limbs and plump belly, held his head low, as if waiting for permission. A soft, constant whimper came from him, the low misery of a child who had no hope of relief.

  Tam swore, putting his hands beneath his underarms. "It's killing me to watch."

  Fir finished her inspection and slumped back to her depressed, half-sleeping, half-staring posture. The pup crawled close beneath her foreleg, and sniffed a teat. With a noise, he plopped down and took the teat in his mouth, and Fir did not object. She didn't nuzzle the baby, but she didn't push him away.

  "Good enough," Desi said. The knot that had been lying in her chest all morning eased away. "Let's leave them alone."

  They walked back to the driveway. Desi noticed a faint limp. "Did you hurt yourself?"

  "Eh? No. Not today. I've got a bum knee."

  "And you snowshoe?"

  His grin was somewhat sheepish. "Crazy, but I can't stand to be still. Better in the long run, yeah?"

  "Probably."

  As they reached his car, Tam pulled keys from his pocket. "Do you need anything for him?"

  "No, he'll be fine." She tucked her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, trying not to stare too much at his chest, which looked carved and polished into some ideal of perfection of what a man's chest should be. She suppressed an urge to poke him to see if the muscles were as hard as they looked. "You saved his life, you know." She touched her diaphragm, where the sadness had been knotted. "And it made me feel a lot better, too, after losing his mother."

  He stood by his car, looking back toward the kennels. "I run a pub," he said, and fixed those pale green eyes on her, so startling in his dark face. "Would it be any help to you to bring the expired meats we can't use?"

  "Yes! Please! It's always hard to get enough meat for them."

  "Will do."

  "And if you or any of your buddies have leftover game meat, all the better. It's that time of year that people clean out their freezers for the summer fishing season."

  "I'll spread the word," he said with a nod. He stuck out his big hand. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Rousseau. Come in the pub and I'll buy you lunch and a beer."

  "Call me Desi," she said, and put her hand in his. Was it her imagination, or did a little spark zap her palm? "And, thanks, but I don't drink."

  "Nothing?"

  "Not alcohol."

  "I've got beer from twenty-two countries," he said with an absolutely charming tilt of his grin. "But hot chocolate from England, too, and some sodas from Australia. Or … hmm. Ever tried an Irn Bru? Scottish, not too sweet."

  Desi realized she was falling right under the spell of that grin. "I'm sure it's delicious." She tugged her hand away, took a step backward. His grin expanded the slightest bit. "I've got to get to work now."

  "All right, then." He waved. "I'll be back."

  With a nod Desi turned away, trying to calm the little leap of hope those words gave her. Hadn't she learned anything? Charming men were as deep as a rain puddle.

  Not to mention he was way out of her league. Men like that loved women like her sisters—the soft, sweet blonde or the fiery redhead—not serious-minded, solid brunettes with cracked cuticles. She'd let down her guard to allow Claude in, and look where it had landed her.

  She headed for the kennels. A good romp with the pack would lift her spirits and wash the man right out of her mind. Wolves were loyal beings, after all. Men could take a lesson from them.

  Still, she couldn't help looking over her shoulder as his car headed up the road. As men went, he was a pretty spectacular specimen.

  And alpha. Definitely alpha, though he would pretend to be the playful beta, second in command.

  Don't even think about it, she told herself again.

  Don't. Even. Think. About. It.

  * * *

  By the end of the week the pup and Fir seemed to be making a fine recovery. When she checked on them Thursday, the pup was even nursing as if he was getting nourishment. Desi left them alone and carried her paperwork home to finish a grant proposal to gain funds from an outdoor wildlife foundation.

  Friday morning she awakened to find an especially large pile of dogs sleeping in front of the potbellied stove. For a long moment, she peered at them, trying to figure out what they'd done to make themselves look like such a big pile.

  Then the reality crystallized: in addition to her own dogs, there were three wolves from the pack sleeping in a tangle on the floor.

  In the house.

  She peered at them in confusion, trying to figure out how—

  Suddenly she sprang to her feet, thinking of the rest of the wolves, running free in the
forest—and across ranch land where lots of tasty tidbits of sheep and chicken roamed.

  "Crap," she muttered under her breath and shoved legs into jeans, a sweater over the sleeveless T-shirt she'd slept in, and some socks and shoes on her feet.

  The wolves and dogs roused themselves, greeting her, each according to his or her nature. A lick, a polite, patient gaze, a leap toward her belly. "Okay, okay, okay!" she cried, petting heads, chests; tugging Tecumseh's ear, letting Aladdin slurp her wrist. "We gotta go, gang." She gave her special whistle, and they all leaped up and ran outside, waiting while she locked the door to the cabin.

  Then they all ran up the hill in a pack, some streaking ahead at point, two lagging in the rear to make sure the flank was protected. They dashed under tree branches and dove around rocks, tails high as feathers in the Colorado morning.

  All the way there, Desi prayed it was not what she feared, that the other wolves would be safe and sound when she got there. And if the fence had been compromised for some reason, that no one else had gotten out.

  Her mind raced. Even if the fence was down, the wolves should have been in their kennels overnight—protected with a double layer of fencing. She ran harder, wishing she'd taken some time to put on a bra to keep everything in place. But there was no time to change things now.

  When she reached the kennel, she rounded the free-running pack and directed them into an area they used to isolate new animals or those with a problem of some kind. It was double fenced, with a small circumference of fencing around the outside of it, but she gave it the once-over anyway, and saw that it was fine.

  Closing the dogs in the area to keep them safe, she dashed to the cabin and banged on the door to wake up her assistant, Alex. "Need you out here, man!" she cried, and headed for the external fencing to see where the problem was.

  The area was fenced to a distance of several acres, but Desi didn't have to go that far to find the hole.

  The fence was cut. Cleanly and professionally, with wire cutters. It was big enough for Desi to walk through, never mind the wolves. She stood there in the early morning light, fist clenched, afraid to go check the kennels to see who was here and who was not, terrified that the others might have been poisoned with bad meat or worse.