Thanks. Manny said as much, but it helps to hear you agree. About the book for Scotty, please dont go out of your way to find one. I know you must be on a schedule.
In case you couldnt tell, I love educating anyone wholl listen about ensuring wolf habitats remain as nature intended. Ill keep the book age appropriate. I hope I can find one with photos. Giving a final wave, Wyatt descended the steps.
Tandy heard him whistling as he crossed the sandy yard to the casita next to Mannys. It wasnt until she saw lights spill from his door and windows that she realized she still stood in the cold after she could no longer see and admire the mans lithe stride.
Chapter Two
The first morning after his return to the ranch, Wyatt stood at the front window of his casita, drinking coffee and watching daylight blossom over the mountain rim. Tandy had not only readied his bed and bathroom, shed left a pound of Kona coffee beside the coffee maker. Hed never drunk Hawaiian coffee, but it was quite good. Hed have to remember to thank her.
All at once his eyes were drawn away from the streaky salmon glow in the east to the boy hed met the previous night. Scotty Graham chased after his dog, heading toward the barn. On his heels was his mother, all decked out in boots, jeans, a plaid jacket and a ski cap with earflaps. She caught up to her son, grabbed him around the waist and stuffed him into a denim jacket with a hood that from all appearances he didnt want to wear. The scene made Wyatt smile.
Pausing with his lips on his mug, he realized how much there was to admire about his new landlady. More than her curly brown hair and dark chocolate eyes. Even more than her trim body, although it certainly lit a few fires in his belly. Just now, instead of scolding her recalcitrant son, her pretty face was filled with love and laughter.
Wyatt imagined the trilling sound and the thought marched fingers of unexpected heat up his spine. His imagination was cut short when Manny Vasquez hobbled on bowlegs to join the others, and the trio continued on into the barn.
Wyatts first order of business today was to follow a hiking trail beyond a campground, looking for signs that his wolves had traveled lower in bad weather in search of easier prey. He hoped not, because that was when they could trouble ranchers.
Later in the day hed go to town for supplies. Wyatt actually wished he didnt have to make either trip. Hed like to saddle a horse and ride with the others through quiet canyons where cattle roamed. Hed had a taste of that when hed helped Tandys father and recalled hed rather enjoyed the ranch routine.
Turning from the window, he drained his first cup of java and poured another in a travel mug. He spared a moment, feeling glad that Tandy had been aware hed bonded with her dad in the year spent here establishing his wolf project. His parents, busy, dedicated archaeologists, rarely found time to connect or ask about his work, as they were so focused on their own.
The fact Curtis Marsh had been so ill mayve been why hed welcomed Wyatts company. Or maybe the man knew his end was near and he profoundly missed his only child. Because he sometimes got lonely, too, Wyatt had enjoyed hearing of the mans unabashed love for his deceased wife and his pride for his daughter, who had served multiple tours in war-torn Iraq and Afghanistan.
Tandys father had worried about her. Curt wished shed come home and bring his grandson. Due to their chats, Wyatt guessed he might know Tandy better than she knew him. Hed pored over family photos, from the time she was born to her college graduation to when she finally wore an army uniform. Oddly there were no wedding pictures and very few of her and her son, which made Curt cherish every one.
Ah, well, until last evening Wyatt hadnt known shed divorced. Capping his travel mug, he told himself that detail didnt matter. Shouldnt matter. Couldnt matter. Similar to her army deployments, Game and Fish sent him far afield on assignments. Many were remote locations. He used to like that part of his job. Still, it could get old.
Donning his jacket and backpack filled with gear, he set out for the hills where he might find wolf tracks.
By 11:00 a.m. hed tramped from the highway along two well-traveled trails. Both bordered Spiritridge land. The last one he wanted to check passed nearer to Preston Hickss ranch. At a point where the trail curved and dipped for a mile, it ran alongside a popular summer campground.
More than halfway to higher ground by noon, Wyatt thought he heard a tiny bit of static coming through his tracking device. That meant one of his banded adult wolves was in the area. He hiked on, listening carefully, checking all around for tracks or scat.
The static faded. He reached a wide mesa without seeing any evidence of wolves, for which he was thankful. Next time out hed climb higher to where helicopter spotters had last seen the pack during the winter. Newly released wolves often traveled a great distance from where they were let go. Being smart animals, it was thought they could smell the cage long after itd been removed. Mostly they steered clear of the smell of man, too.
He circled back toward the ranch. Hed only gone a hundred yards or so when, out of the corner of one eye, he glimpsed the furry backsides of two animals. He lifted his binoculars for a clearer look but saw nothing. Must have been the twitch of a branch, but no wind had come up to rustle across the countryside.
He left the trail to look for tracks in the underbrush. Twice more he saw a brief flash of fur but failed to get close enough to snap a picture with his camera. The animals resembled full-grown wolves. Yet he wasnt picking up feedback on his scanner. That meant they werent his wolves.
A dozen feet off the trail he spotted half a paw print. It could be from a wolf, or a big dog. He knelt, letting his brain sort through possibilities. This was a fair distance from any ranch house. If the dogs were sheepherders, hed think they would come to him instead of running away.
He scraped debris away from the print and took the best photo he could manage. Not finding additional tracks, he literally crawled along, hoping to run across more.
Before his team had scouted this area, another wildlife management group gave a workshop on wolf dogs. Hybrids could crop up several years after a repatriation, especially near ranching communities. But his teams release hadnt been long enough ago for either of their alphas to mate with dogs and produce offspring the size of the animals hed sighted.
So, what did it mean? Could strays have crossed over the mountains from New Mexico? Their release had been a while ago. Long enough that those wolves no longer wore radio collars.
Traveling deeper into an almost impenetrable thicket, Wyatt hit a wall of vines, gave up and turned back. There were no further sightings of creatures other than a rabbit and a few flitting birds. And his wolves werent here.
Heading to the ranch, he considered calling Tandy before going to town. Last night he shouldve asked if there was anything he could pick up for her or Manny.
As it turned out, he didnt have phone reception until he was back at his casita. He unloaded equipment from his official SUV and tried Tandy before leaving. She might be out of satellite range. He wondered if she was aware of how spotty phone service was where she ran cattle.
The call connected and he heard her faint Hello.