Page 91 of The Cowboy and the Stray

I spent the rest of that day not running away. For some people, that’s easy. For me, it’s about as natural as breathing underwater. I went outside and watched the ranch hands work the cattle, tried to help Midge with lunch. She wouldn’t let me near the knives, which was fair. She was probably scared I’d try to eliminate the wolf threat. But the whole time, it was like my brain kept tripping over what I’d seen.

I didn’t ask Calder to show me again. Not right away. That would’ve been rude, like asking someone to take off their clothes on the first date. Which, given the circumstances, was basically what I was doing.

After dinner, he found me on the porch. The sun was down, but the air was still warm, pressing in around us like a heavy blanket. There were fireflies. I wondered if the wolves noticed them, or if they just tuned out anything that didn’t move fast enough to eat.

Calder leaned on the porch rail, not looking at me.

“You want to see my wolf again?” he asked.

I tried to play it cool. “Well, yeah. I kind of missed the details the first time.”

He stared out at the dark. “It’s not a parlor trick.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

We stood there for a minute, both of us pretending to be relaxed.

Finally, he said, “Come on.”

We walked out to the side pasture. My ankle wasn’t too bad, all things considered. He kept trying to carry me, but after the third time I said a firm, “no,” he kept his hands in his pockets the rest of the way, shoulders tight. I wondered if it was painful, or if he just didn’t like being watched. There was nobody around, though.

Calder stopped under a big live oak and glanced at me, like he was checking for judgment.

“Ready?” he said.

I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure.

He closed his eyes. There wasn’t any magical shimmer, no special effects. One second, it was a man standing in the moonlight. The next, a wolf. It wasn’t even that gross, all things considered. No cracking bones, no bloody fur. Just a transition. Like flipping a page in a book.

The wolf was massive. Bigger than the ones at the zoo, bigger than a mastiff, with thick gold and black fur and a tail that hung low. The big brown eyes were exactly the same as Calder’s, which was somehow the weirdest part.

He padded over, slow and careful, and sat a few feet away. I didn’t know if I should say anything. Could he still understand me?

“So, uh, can you understand me?” I said, quietly.

The wolf snorted. Okay, then. He could.

I squatted down, wincing at my ankle, and reached out. The fur was soft, not bristly, and clean. He let me touch his neck, even leaned into it a little. I ran my fingers down his back and tried not to freak out.

“This is crazy,” I whispered. “Absolutely bonkers.”

He turned and looked at me, ears flicking back. For a second, I swore he grinned.

I scratched him behind the ears. “You’re still Calder, right?”

He pressed his head into my hand, then pulled back and circled me once. It wasn’t threatening. More like he was checking for injury, or maybe just showing off. He wagged his tail once, then sat again.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Okay, this is officially the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He made a low, huffing noise, almost a laugh.

I stayed out there a long time. We didn’t talk, obviously, but it was comfortable. He watched the edges of the field, ears twitching at every small sound. I wondered if he was keeping me safe, or if it was just habit.

Eventually, the wolf got up, shook out his fur, shifted back. Fur folded in, he sort of stood, and then Calder stood there.

I grinned at him. “You want me to clap, or do you want a treat? A little cookie in the shape of a bone maybe?”

He snorted. “You’ll get used to it.”