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Since there was no way I was going to tell Balthazar that Joyce had hired the caravan without my knowledge and Grace had dragged me along to oust them, I lied: "We wanted to welcome the caravan to the neighborhood. "
"You've got nothing better to do with your day?"
The entire length of the conversation, I'd been fighting my fear of being alone in the dark with a man. Now I got angry, which was usually how I got into trouble.
"It's nearly nine, and I just left an office I walked into at the same time this morning. Why don't you put that in your paper?"
His mouth tightened, though it was hard to tell, considering the paper-thin line of his lips. His cheeks flushed, making an already ruddy complexion mottled. Fury flashed in his beady dark eyes, and I could have sworn he growled, just as he reached for me.
But before his fleshy fingers closed around my arms and he did whatever it was he planned to do, a howl burst from the trees. The combination of the volume and the proximity made me gasp as my heart threatened to leap out of my chest.
"What the hell is that?" Balthazar muttered.
"Sounds like a wolf. " I stared at the thick, dark stand of trees, waiting for the beast to burst forth and end not only our curiosity but also our lives.
I expected Balthazar to scoff, to remind me that timber wolves had been hunted to extinction ages ago and the reintroduction of red wolves had been a failure. The only large wild animals in these mountains were bears and bobcats; neither one of them howled.
When he didn't speak, I risked removing my gaze from the shadows that had begun to swirl and dance with dizzying speed to look at him.
All I saw was his back as he hurried in the other direction. A wave of relief made me dizzier. I didn't even mind being left alone with. . . whatever - as long as Balthazar was gone.
"Nice doggy," I murmured, and began to inch in reverse. My house was up this hill and around the bend, but I didn't plan to take my eyes off the trees. If I was going to be ripped limb from limb by an animal that shouldn't be here, I planned to see it coming. Too many bad things in my life had blindsided me when my back was turned.
Slowly I crept toward safety, my shoes scuffling on the pavement, my breath harsh and fast in the silence.
The trees rustled. A shadow flitted.
The wind? Or something more substantial and deadly?
I could have sworn eyes stared at me from the depths. I blinked. I couldn't help it. I'd been working all day and half the night; I was tired. When I opened my eyes, the other set was gone.
I turned and smacked into Malachi Cartwright so hard my chest bounced off of his, and I stumbled.
He steadied me, the roughness of his palms scratching against my sleeves. My startled gaze lifted to his face, and the beauty of it captured me.
I'd spent a lot of time around beautiful men and women. Television was full of them. I'd learned quickly that the prettier people were, the less they
felt they had to do because of it. Cartwright didn't seem of the same opinion.
With a face and body like his he could have been posing for GQ ads, at the least strutting a catwalk in his underwear. Instead he traveled the country in a wagon, working with animals until his hands were so hard, calluses scraped the fabric of my suit.
"Did you. . . ?" I paused as an idea flickered. "Is there a wolf in your menagerie?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I heard a howl. "
His gaze moved to the trees. "Just now?"
"A few minutes ago. Didn't you hear it?"
He shook his head, but he continued to stare at the forest.
Strange.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I came to see your lovely town. "
