Authors: Vonna Harper

Tags: #Man-Woman Relationships, #Ranchers, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Erotic Fiction, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Love Stories

Spirit of the Wolf (12 page)

BOOK: Spirit of the Wolf

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By way of answer, the mare gave her head a hard shake. Spotting a particularly steep section ahead, Cat leaned forward to keep her weight off her mount’s hindquarters. Matt-thoughts went into hibernation as she assured herself that the mare was proving to be as strong as she looked. Hopefully she wouldn’t figure out that the mule had the easier job.

When the mare reached a relatively level spot, Cat let her stop. Coming alongside, the mule nuzzled the mare’s neck.

“You make a good pair. Respect’s—” Alarm stopped her.

Yesterday—had it been such a short time ago?—she’d felt like this just before the Antelope Grove wolf appeared. Praying she wasn’t telegraphing her tension to the animals, she forced herself to study her surroundings. An unseen jay protested her right to be here, but the wind barely made its presence known.

She was chiding herself for not having brought binoculars when her cell phone vibrated, startling her. It rang another two times before she could get it out of her front pocket. The display showed Daria’s number.

“What’s up?” Cat said, keeping her voice low.

“Just curious about whether you’ve heard the latest.”

“What?” Did it have anything to do with Matt?

“I probably wouldn’t know myself yet if I hadn’t been over at Hart Mountain with the cattle truck picking up a bunch of stupid wandering heifers. You know the Albert Rim area.”

Of course she did. The Rim was the largest exposed fault scarp in America. Thirty miles long, and 2,300 feet high, it was the home of Lake Albert, which she understood was the third largest inland body of salt water in the country.

“What about it?” she asked.

“A lot according to what a couple of women have been telling everyone. They were climbing up to the Rim when—”

“Climbing that? What for?”

“’Cause it was there? How the hell do I know? They’re part of that Oregon hiking bunch. Do I need to say more?”

“No.” Hearing her friend’s animated voice was calming her, thank goodness. No way was she going to let her imagination get the best of her. “So they were climbing. What happened?”

Daria didn’t immediately answer, and when she did, she sounded serious. “The wolf pack was waiting for them when they got to the top.”

Albert Rim was more than fifty miles from here as the crow flew. Just the same, she half imagined she was there. “How many?”

As her friend continued, Cat’s mind filled with the image of two middle-aged women surrounded by no less than seven wolves. Apparently the wolves hadn’t come closer than maybe 150 feet, but they’d stayed around for the better part of an hour. Every time the two women tried to start for the edge so they could climb down to where they’d left their vehicle near the lake, the wolves stepped between them and their escape route.

“The women were back at the road before I saw them, but they were still scared shitless. I’ve never seen someone who’s supposedly healthy that pale. All they wanted to do was get the hell out of there.”

“They said the wolves just watched them?”

“And not let them leave until they were thoroughly intimidated. Some other members of their hiking group were with them by the time I arrived. They were all excited and insisting the women stay put until law enforcement arrived. They wanted me to do the same, kept saying I had to put my two cents’ worth in because I live here, yada, yada. Like law enforcement’s going to listen to me.” Daria laughed. “One good thing came out of that. There’s two women who won’t be coming back anytime soon.”

“No, I don’t suppose they will.”

“Cat, did you hear about the emergency meeting that was set up so people could discuss finding a way to convince Fish and Wildlife that the wolves need to be blown away?”

“Addie told me. I understand Matt was going to be there.”

“Considering what happened to his calf and a man who was working for him, I’m sure they want him raising holy hell. You’re bonking him. Do you think he’d lead the charge?”

Bonking.
“I doubt it. That’s not his style.”

“You’re right. Unless he’s getting it on with you, he prefers being by himself. Something I’ve been thinking about. What happened to the women will fuel the flames. Bottom line, they could have been killed. I don’t know what stopped the wolves from attacking. It almost sounded if they were trying to decide whether to.”

“It wouldn’t have taken them that long to make up their minds.”

“Then what—”

“I don’t know, but learning the answer’s important.”

“How’d life get so complicated?”

Cat pinched the bridge of her nose. “It did, didn’t it?” she muttered. “Are you still at the Rim?”

“Yep. Got the strays loaded and need to get them back to the ranch property. I just wanted you to know you don’t have to worry about the wolves. They aren’t anywhere near the Badlands.”

L
ast winter a sharp but short-lived earthquake had stuck central Oregon. According to those who knew such things, the epicenter had been east of Lakeview, specifically in the Badlands. There’d been some minor property damage at a couple of houses outside the city limits. Back then the Badlands had been frozen and inhospitable, and no one had bothered to check things out. Cat might have been the first to come here in the spring. As far as she knew, no one had visited this steep-sided hill. Eventually someone would, and when they did, the cave would no longer be hers.

It needed a name, she decided as she tethered the animals to separate sagebrush. She could give credit to the Paiutes, but she wasn’t sure they’d been responsible for the petroglyphs she’d found. Hopefully Helaku would know. For now, Ghost Cave seemed a good enough label.

After putting her new camera with its powerful flash over her shoulder, she started up the slope below the cave entrance. Her canteen bumped against her hip and stirred the part of her anatomy that riding had kept on edge for the past couple of hours. Within a minute, she realized that walking wasn’t going to give her the respite she’d hoped it would. The constant rubbing factored in although she suspected Matt-thoughts were most responsible.

Despite everything, she wanted him to see Ghost Cave, now more than ever. In the past, she’d simply wanted to study his reaction to the ancient drawings, but now with the wolves turning his world on end, they’d have even more of an impact for her too. Surely he’d ask why she hadn’t told anyone about what undoubtedly was an incredible find?

Good question. Logical question. Her answer, for what it was worth, was that she wasn’t yet ready to share it with the world. This was
her
place, the ultimate example of what she loved about this land.

Do you think it’s possible that the drawings are tied to what is happening now?
she mentally asked Matt.
Will you agree with my assessment of that one wolf, that it’s more than the work of an overenthusiastic artist? More than ignorance of perspective?

The ground under her boots shifted. Determined not to risk a twisted ankle, she concentrated. Perhaps content to wait until she could focus on him, Matt remained at the edges of her mind.

As had happened just before her friend called, she felt a prickling between her shoulder blades. Well, no wonder. It was impossible not to imagine being in the two women hikers’ position. They, too, had been in remote country. Granted, she knew more about the Badlands than they probably did about Albert Rim, but they’d had each other for comfort while she—

Damn it, she didn’t need comforting. The wolves weren’t anywhere around.

Because it was in shadow, the opening to Ghost Cave was hard to spot, and she had to stop a couple of times to get her bearings. The loose lava field the earthquake had shaken from its moorings all looked the same. Her guess was that before the quake, lava, placed there by ancient people, had obscured the opening.

Standing before the approximately three-foot-high opening, she wondered at the reckless curiosity that had compelled her to get onto her hands and knees and crawl in that first time. No way would she have if no daylight reached the cave. Or if she’d known about the flesh-and-blood wolves.

Okay, enough with the stalling. It was time to get in, take as many pictures as she thought necessary to accurately detail what was there, and get out. That done, she’d take the horse and mule to the meadow below her and to the south and let them graze for a while. Maybe tomorrow she’d go see Helaku.

More prickling joined what was already between her shoulders as she crawled inside, but that was to be expected. Ghost Cave was just that, ghostly.

As soon as she was past the entrance, Cat got to her feet. The cave ceiling wasn’t quite six feet high, which meant Matt would have to stand bent over. Undoubtedly he’d share her awe of the nearly twenty-by-twenty-foot space with several nooks and crannies. He’d take notice of the bits and pieces of dried grasses still on the floor. Grass not thick enough for having sex on.

Darn it, Matt wasn’t here. Drawing comparisons between now and the last time she’d been on her hands and knees was getting in the way of her mission.

Thanks to the sun’s position, it was closer to twilight than night in here. Drawing the camera case off her shoulder, she took out the digital and turned it on. As soon as the flash signaled it was ready, she began taking pictures, starting to the right of the opening and working clockwise. It made sense to work like that and had nothing to do with needing to put off acknowledging the final drawing as long as possible. Unfortunately, her back was to
the one.

The cool interior soon had her going from being too warm to comfortable to slightly chilled. She tried to keep Matt-thoughts at bay, she really did. Nevertheless, he stood beside her in spirit, equally inspired by what had survived unknown centuries. Like her, the man in her mind was curious about who the artists had been and why they’d chosen these particular subjects.

There were five scenes consisting of stick figures. One showed people either standing or kneeling in a circle looking up at what she concluded was the sun, although it might have been the moon. Another depicted a battle complete with two prone figures with red staining the ground around them. The combatants were armed with spears and knives.

In the scene to the right of the battle one, a solitary figure knelt near the head of a body drenched in blood. Other people were grouped around the bowed kneeler, all with their heads down. Had the victim been a chief or religious leader?

Contrasting with the people scenes were animal and bird drawings, some very well done. Those of deer and antelope in particular impressed her because of the muscle detail. By the time she came to the one of a bear on its hind legs, her shutter finger ached. She took pictures of the bear—which she guessed was a grizzly and not a smaller black bear like the ones that lived here today—from several angles.

The region’s petroglyphs that were viewable to the public were mostly made up of meaningless symbols, but everything in Ghost Cave made sense.

Finally, because she’d done everything else, and she needed to get back to the animals, she stepped in front of the final drawing. No matter that she’d seen it before, it again took her breath away. Six well-depicted wolves all looking in the same direction stood with their tails low and their ears flattened in what she understood was submission.

Leaning in, she snapped several shots of the clearly defined heads. Hopefully their gleaming yellow eyes would show up. Then, holding her breath, she pointed her camera at what the wolves were looking at. Nearly twice as large as the pack members, this whatever-it-was had deep black, intelligent-looking eyes. It loomed over the others as if warning them.

Before Matt had shown her the oversized prints he’d found near the dead calf, she’d believed that whoever had drawn this had taken artistic license with his work. Now she wasn’t sure.

Do you have the answer, Matt? If you saw this, would you understand?

The cave muted the outside sounds while the dim lighting made it too easy to imagine she’d stepped back in time. No longer a modern woman, she became a member of an ancient tribe that believed its survival depended on its reverence for a multitude of spirits as well as for the sun, moon, and the rest of nature’s gifts.

Quite possibly, the ancients believed wolves were a key part of that spirituality. If they conducted themselves as their shaman and other leaders directed, wolves would guide them to successful hunts. Through prayer and spirit quests, they’d learn how to depend on senses sharpened by wolf spirits, and the women, children, and elders back home would sleep with full bellies.

Shaking her head, Cat turned off the digital and put it back in the case. Enough with losing touch with reality. Instead of heading for sunlight, however, she lightly ran her hand over the large wolf, starting with the top of the head and moving along the back to the bushy tail. It was her imagination, of course, nothing steeped in reality, yet she half believed she was caressing fur instead of hard lava.

She hadn’t touched the fangs yet, didn’t need to, no reason. Despite the inner voice warning her to get the hell out of here and back to the real world, she breathed warmth onto her fingers and stroked the killing teeth. In contrast to the wolf’s soft fur, the teeth were sharp. Capable of tearing her apart.

Unnerved, she scrambled out of the cave and struggled to her feet. The sun should have warmed her. Instead, she shivered and goose bumps broke out everywhere. Her hand clamped over her mouth, she frantically looked for the way she’d taken to get up here.

Matt! I could really use you right now.

The sun caressed her hair and back, then moved to her buttocks and the backs of her thighs. Bit by bit, tension seeped out of her, replaced by memories. Matt had touched her much the way the sun now was. Although he’d been rough and urgent, she’d loved it.

She could cherish this moment with the cave behind her, the sun warming her, and Matt settled deep in her mind and body.

Squirming in response to the energy between her legs, she again tried to locate the route down. Talk about distraction! Heat where heat couldn’t be ignored was getting to her. Forget keeping her distance from Matt! Right now she needed him way too much for logic and caution to factor.

A sharp whinny followed by a bray from the mule stopped her. From where she stood, she couldn’t see the pair, but she knew animal sounds. They were alarmed.

Wolf!

Get over it! You know where they are. Just because you got carried away in the cave is no reason to . . . to what?

Despite the urgency, she took a long drink from her canteen that she’d left at the entrance in an effort to settle her nerves. Then, warning herself not to hurry and risk falling, she started down. Horses panicked when there was no need, and there’d only been that one outburst. Keeping her balance took her full attention. Her toes kept jamming against the end of her boots, and her thigh and calf muscles protested.

Sweat had made her top stick to her by the time she reached the bottom of the hill. Relieved, she took off her hat and fanned herself with it, then wiped sweat out of her eyes. So much for the glamorous life.

Neither animal acknowledged her presence. Damn it, that wasn’t right. She opened her mouth to say something to turn their attention from whatever they were looking at, but just because she needed affirmation that all was right in her world wasn’t enough reason to try to break their concentration. Holding on to the camera case, she looked in the direction they were.

Oh, shit.

Matt! Get here. Right now.

The solitary wolf stood far enough away that she couldn’t be positive about its size—either that or she wasn’t ready to acknowledge reality.
Magnificent
said it all. Proud and unafraid. Utterly at home in the wilderness.

Her body turned numb. At the same time, her mind sharpened. If the predator charged, she was in big trouble. Logic said it would prefer to turn the horse or mule into its next meal, but would a solo wolf take on a prey that size?

Maybe it wasn’t in attack mode. Maybe it simply . . . what?

Her parents had never caught on to the concept that a child wasn’t born knowing everything he or she needed to survive, but they’d given her a few ground rules such as not walking into traffic or crawling into a lion cage. They’d think she was fourteen kinds of a fool if they could see her now, because instead of jumping onto horseback and getting the hell out of there, she started walking toward the wolf.

“You’re huge,” she muttered. The sound of her voice startled her, yet she continued. “Like the Ghost Cave drawing.”

A possibility stopped her, but the wolf was waiting for her, so she started walking again. After a moment, she gave her thought freedom. Was it possible she was looking at the model the long-dead artist had used?

“Why hasn’t anyone seen you before this? I know they haven’t. There’s no way they could keep you a secret.”

Sweat coated her palms. As she wiped them on her jeans, her right hand brushed her cell phone. Matt’s number was on speed dial. She could—should—call him. Tell him what was happening.

But what if he wasn’t alone? Did she want anyone else to know yet?

Was she ready to share this moment with Matt?

The still-waiting wolf lowered its head, revealing its fangs as it did. She thought she knew what a wolf warning looked like, not much different from a dog’s, right? If she was correct, this wasn’t it because its gaze remained curious, not threatening. But what then?

By now she’d covered about a third of the distance separating them. Between that and wrapping her mind around what she was seeing, doubt became certainty. Yes, this predator’s eyes were black.

Like the one in the cave.

“Why aren’t I terrified of you? Why don’t I think I’ve lost my mind?”

BOOK: Spirit of the Wolf

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