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“What do you think the odds of that are?”
“That there are wolves here?” He looked at the pilot, who shook his head. “I’m with Ben,” Riggs continued. “My family’s been here for a few generations. At one time there were wolves, but according to my dad, they were allbut gone when he was a kid in the 70s. As far back as I can remember, there hasn’t been a wolf sighting.”
“Curious,” she commented, wondering if someone had purposely bred a wolf with a dog? If so, why dump the pups? Did they get scared when the pups were born, afraid of legal repercussions, so they dumped them? If that was the case, where was the mother? Wolf or dog, a mother doesn’t abandon her young.
Oakley sat back, curiosity mixing with anger. Someone had to have either taken the pups from the mother or killed her. She had no information on how old they were, but there was a fare to average chance that they’d require bottle feeding if the mother couldn’t be found.
She knew Gunner watched. That didn’t bother her. He knew the value of silence, and the necessity. This wasn’t a mission, but an event, and for her, one she never dreamed would happen. It’d long been her dream to train a pair of wolf pups. If there was a chance these pups reached the genetic threshold to earn the wolf label, then this would literally be the opportunity she’d wished for.
What were the odds? It was a remarkable coincidence that right after being asked about the possibility of leaving the military to work at Sanctuary, wolf pups appeared in her life. Or was it a coincidence?
No, Grady wasn’t that kind of man. He’d never use deception. It was simply a coincidence. And boy was it a tempting one. She found herself suddenly considering the offer, which brought herself back to reality.
She had several months before she hit her twenty-year mark. She couldn’t afford to give up her full pension. Despite being a Major, in the civilian world she was qualified to do two things. Fight and train canines. That’swhat the Army wanted of her, and what she’d give until her tour was finished.
She was pretty sure there weren’t many job openings for people with her particular qualifications. Trainers in the private sector were, by far, ex-military trainers, or operators who worked exclusively with dogs. She’d be competing with people she may have trained, and that didn’t appeal to her.
But, if she could successfully raise and train a pair of wolves, document everything and discover if it was not just possible to train wolves for all the tasks dogs were trained for, but if they would be superior at the tasks because of their nature. Right now, the consensus among those above her pay grade was that even if possible, the canines in the field would always have the advantage over a wolf.
After all, a trained wolf is still a wolf. An apex predator.
Which equates to a more unpredictable nature. Still, something inside told Oakley that there was more to wolves than people understood. She almost smiled at the thought. It wasn’t something she’d say aloud, at least not anymore. In the past, when she spoke of the superiority of wolves and their intelligence, people scoffed.
Well, everyone save one. Mattias Grey Horse. Oakley met him on a joint mission before she left the Rangers. Talk about a deep well. He was that. Maybe that was part of the indigenous spirit, that ability to be part of the silence, to observe more than merely what floated on the surface.
He got it. Meeting him was one of the moments to remember. She paid attention to him, learned from him, and because of that, she saw how others treated andrespected him. His native heritage wasn’t an obstacle or hindrance, it was an enhancement.
It was Mattias who helped her fully embrace her own native heritage. By some fluke of genetics, she was blessed with her great-grandfather’s eyes. He came to this country from the highlands of Scotland, a fair-skinned, black haired, hazel eyed giant who fell in love with a statuesque native woman.
They had one son, who had four sons and two daughters, and the family grew. Thus far, her great-grandmother was the only white blood in their line. Oakley wondered if she looked anything like the matriarch of their bloodline.
Oakley snapped out of that line of thinking, wondering why her mind pulled on that particular thread. Now wasn’t the time for such reflection. Or was it more than reflection? Her people had always held the wolf in high regard. They and the wolves learned to inhabit the same land and learn about one another, even if it was from a distance.
What had always fascinated Oakley was the pack. They form what humans call families, and their families or packs work well as a single efficient unit. They follow the lead of the oldest wolf, normally the male, which probably inspired the concept of the alpha male. There have also been instances when the pack followed the alpha female.
The point important to Oakley was that wolves were naturally inclined toward pack life and being an efficient and important element within the unit. They knew how to follow their leader. It was the perfect mindset. If she could teach them to be a unit and work for a common goal, they would be magnificent.
And if they proved to be another benefit to the country, perhaps they’d be more protected. And ultimately, that was her goal, the one she kept private.
“Here we are,” Riggs’ voice in the headset yanked Oakley out of her wolf dreams, and she started preparing what she’d say to the rancher about the animals, that the chance of them being marked as a wolf was slim. The best thing he could do for them was take them to a shelter and hope they’d find a home.
As much as she hated that speech, she’d give it. She’d already mentally rehearsed it, and by the time she, Gunner and Riggs were escorted into one of the small barns, she had it down pat.
Until she saw the pups. That changed everything.
Chapter Four
Oakley sat on the ground in the kennel, in what some would call Indian style, and others a meditation pose. Her hands rested on her knees, palms up and fingers loose. She remained still as the pups sniffed and circled her without interruption. While she sat, she spoke with the men watching from outside the caged enclosure. “So, how long have they been here?”
Marvin Dewalt, the man who found the pups, rocked back on his heels. “Well, that’s a tale all its own. We found them three days ago, at the edge of the west pasture, not too far from the stream that separates my land from Claude Herbert’s. We brung ‘em here and put ‘em in the smaller kennel over younder, left’em food and water, and I’ll be danged if they didn’t dig their way out. We come out here the next morning and the pups were gone.”
He cleared his throat before continuing. “This morning, one of the men was riding fence lines and spotted them near the stream, so he brung ‘em in.”
“And there’s been no sign of the mother?” Oakley asked, remaining still as one of the pups licked at the fingers of her left hand and then smelled her palm.
“Nope. Durn strange, finding wolf pups. Ain’t been no wolves hereabouts in nigh onto fifty years.”
“That is more than strange,” she agreed. “In fact, it makes no sense that they’re here. Particularly without a mother. No mother would abandon her pups. There can be only two reasons they’re here alone. The mother waskilled, or the pups were taken from her and for whatever reason released here.”
