Heart of the wolf (19 page)

I'm going to drop by at noon and check on you. I

didn't
want to wake you up this morning to wrap

your
feet. Just take it easy today, honey. You've

been
through a lot. Wolf.

Sarah's hand trembled. Her gaze caught on the word
honey.
With a small sound, she dropped the note into the wastebasket. Trusting Wolf meant giving him something in return—her heart. Pressing her hands against her eyes, Sarah stood, feeling torn apart.

The phone rang.

With a gasp, Sarah jerked a look toward the living room.
No!
The phone rang again.
And again.
Her heart pounding, Sarah stood, unsure whether to answer. It could be Wolf calling to check on her. Or it could be—

Pressing her hands against her ears, Sarah tried to blot out the harsh sound. After fifteen rings, it finally stopped. Her mouth was dry, and her heart was pounding raggedly in her breast. What if it was yesterday's caller? What would he say to her?

"Oh, God. . ." Sarah whispered, and sat down hard on the chair, her knees buckling with fear. Wildly she looked around the kitchen.
Wolf's kitchen.
He was in danger, too. She'd placed him in danger. But what if it had been Wolf calling her? Sarah knew her mind was running rampant with dread.

Trying to calm herself, she realized that when Wolf came home at noon, she could ask if he'd called. If he had, it would clear her conscience. But what if he hadn't? Shouldn't she tell Wolf about the threat? Maybe it was meaningless—another of
Summers's
mind games.
Maybe.

Sarah knew she had to get busy. That was the way to drive the fear away. She hobbled to the porch and looked around carefully before stepping through the door. Then, warily, she peered out at the surrounding yard. Finally satisfied, she began faceting her sapphires. But no matter how hard she tried to hold her concentration on what she was doing, she longed for Wolf's return.

When Wolf returned to the house, around noon, Skeet stayed outside, content to sniff the boundaries of the wire fence that enclosed the backyard. Entering the house, Wolf took off his hat and placed it on the desk, calling, "Anyone home?"

"I'm in here," Sarah said from the kitchen.

Wolf smiled uncertainly as he entered the kitchen. Sarah stood at the counter, making sandwiches. She looked feminine in a puff-sleeved yellow blouse. Her hair hung in two pigtails. "You look like a little girl ready to go jump rope," he teased. His heart beat erratically in his chest as memories of holding Sarah flooded him. Hell, he'd thought of nothing else all morning. At the office, his considerable paperwork had stared back at him as he reran the entire sequence from last night.

"Oh, the pigtails," Sarah said belatedly. She looked up at Wolf, and her heart melted. He looked so strong and capable, and she felt none of those things. "Sit down. I made us tuna sandwiches." Nervously, she brought over a jar of sweet pickles and placed a bag of potato chips on the table between them.

"You didn't have to go to the trouble," Wolf murmured, appreciative of her efforts. He sat down and smiled at Sarah. Her face was pale, the flesh drawn around her eyes and mouth, but he wrote it off as the result of the emotional storm she'd weathered last night.

Sitting down, Sarah managed a small smile. "That's what I like about you—you don't take me for granted," she said. She picked at a potato chip, her stomach knotted. Somehow she had to find out if Wolf had called her. "How did you manage to get away? Weren't you out patrolling in the woods?"

"Today was paper-crunch day," Wolf told her, munching on his sandwich. "One day of the week is stay- at-the-office day. Well," he hedged, "sort of."

"What do you mean?"

"Early this morning I took a run by your cabin, just to check on it, before I headed to the office."

"How is it?" Sarah asked quickly, thinking of the threat.

"Quiet. I went in and had a look around. Nothing's been disturbed."

"And the mining area?"

"Fine."

"No evidence of anyone digging?"

"No, everything's quiet." Wolf wondered why Sarah was so nervous.

"D-did you call me this morning.
Around ten?"
Sarah held her breath.

Wolf shook his head. "No. Why?"

Sarah shrugged. "No reason. . ." The urge to blurt out the truth nearly overcame her. Maybe it had been one of Wolf's friends calling. But he'd never mentioned anyone. Panic ate at her.

"Maybe the word's got out to
Summers
that I'm checking your place two or three times a day.”

She grimaced. "Knowing Summers, he's just waiting for the right opportunity." Giving Wolf
a
pleading look, she whispered, "Please
be
careful out there. I don't trust him, Wolf. He could jump you the way he jumped me."

Wolf saw the terror in her eyes, heard it in her voice. Reaching over, he captured her hand and squeezed it. "I'll be okay, honey. Stop worrying."

Just Wolf's touch momentarily staved off her panic. Trying to gather her strewn feelings, Sarah asked, "Have you heard from Sheriff Noonan?"

"I called him this morning. I can't say he was real happy to talk to me." Wolf scowled. "He doesn't have any suspects. I don't think he's done a damn thing, if you want my gut impression."

Sarah swallowed hard, feeling a lump of fear form in her throat. "Maybe you ought to back off, Wolf."

"Why?" He saw the worry in Sarah's eyes.

"
Well.
. .because. . . . I've pushed Noonan before, and that's when the goons jumped me."

"They won't jump me."

Moving restlessly around in her chair, Sarah whispered, "I just worry about you, Wolf."

Her admission hit Wolf as a pleasant surprise. "You do?"

"Yes," she muttered with a frown. Wrestling with her feelings, she added, "I'd worry about any friend who was tangling with Noonan, that's all." She stole a look at Wolf. "Not that I have friends. . ."

"Because having friends means reaching out and trusting someone?"

She shrugged painfully. "It sounds stupid when you say it."

"It's not stupid," Wolf murmured. Sarah wasn't eating. She was just sitting there, tense, her hands in her lap. "When you've been hurt repeatedly, it's tough to reach out again." The corners of his mouth curved gently. "I'd like you to think of me as your friend—if you want."

Sarah bit on her lower lip and forced herself to hold his gaze. "You have been a friend to me from the beginning," she admitted hollowly. "I—I've just been afraid to admit it to myself, Wolf."

"Because with the admission
come
the feelings."

"Exactly."

He stopped eating, his own heart opening to her vulnerability, her honesty. "It's better to have someone to turn to when you're feeling alone," he offered gently. "I know having you here
has
helped me—in ways you could never know."

Perplexed, Sarah stared at him. "There's so much I don't know about you, Wolf!"

Wolf knew he had to steer her away from his problems; she had enough of her own to handle without becoming entangled in his miserable life.

"How are your feet feeling?" he asked, changing the subject. He took another bite of his sandwich.

"Better, but not good enough."
Although Sarah could have sworn that Wolf's magic touch was speeding up the healing of her feet. She removed the Ace bandages and stuck her feet out so that he could see them.

"They don't look as bruised," Wolf said, pleased.

"Thanks to you," she said, with a warm look in his direction.

"Healing comes in many forms."

"Who taught you about healing?"

"My grandmother.
Her name was Bear Woman. People with bear medicines have great healing abilities, and she passed a lot of her knowledge on to me when I was a kid."

"Tell me about your life on the reservation," Sarah asked hopefully. So far, he'd gently parried all her attempts to know more about him.

Putting his plate aside, Wolf drew the cup of coffee into his hands. "My grandmother was a medicine woman for our tribe. Besides teaching me healing skills, she taught me a lot about how to survive."

"Oh?" Sarah saw the darkness come back into his eyes, as it did each time she touched on some distant unhealed memory. Instinctively she knew he, too, had to talk if he was to heal.

"When I was twelve, I went on a vision quest. For three days, I fasted and prayed with a pipe my grandmother had given me. On the third day, I had a vision. I walked back to her cabin—in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina—and told her about it." Wolf smiled softly. "She was such a wise old woman. I can't tell you about the vision—to do so
is
to break the power of it. But, in general, she spoke to me about being a warrior, someone who would do battle of one sort or another all my life."

"And so you went into the Marine Corps?"

Wolf hedged,
then
softened.
To hell with it.
It was too hard withholding information from Sarah. "I spent eight years in the Marine Corps after I got out of high school, Sarah," he explained.

"But you're a forest ranger now. Did you get out of the marines and come here?"

Frowning, Wolf knew he couldn't lie to Sarah. Inhaling deeply, he took in the hope and interest shining in her blue eyes. Finally he said, "No. I got an invitation to join
Perseus
, so I did."

"What's
Perseus
?"