Read Online Spirit of the Wolf by Vonna Harper - Free Book Online Page B

close-up of the calf’s sightless eyes saddened her. It might help if she placed her hands on Matt’s shoulders, but chances were then she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on what was obviously important to him.
    And to her, too, she amended as the slideshow continued. The seventeen-inch screen allowed for too much detail. Yesterday she’d looked down at what a wolf pack had done to a living creature. Today reality was being played out in close-up.
    “The sheriff said he was satisfied with what I sent him. I haven’t heard back from Fish and Wildlife. They might want more.”
    “They’re not going to get the carcass, are they?” The calf shots were over and had been replaced by telling paw prints visible despite the surrounding weeds. “I mean, Beale buried the calf, right?”
    “Yeah.”
    Matt still wasn’t looking at her, and his hands were beneath the table where she couldn’t see them.
    “Then there’s not much point in them going there.” She pointed at the screen. “Besides, I’d think that what’s important is learning where the pack is now, not where it was.”
    Matt gave no indication he agreed or disagreed. When he leaned forward a little, she noted the tight tendons at the sides of his neck. Not giving herself time to question what she was doing, she started massaging them. A sigh rolled out of him only to end abruptly as if he regretted letting her know how he reacted.
    Touching him to comfort instead of excite was a new experience. Instead of pressing the heels of her hands against the base of his neck as she would have done in the past, she lightly ran her fingertips into his hair. She tried to keep her touch firm enough that she didn’t risk tickling him.
    “Not a good idea, Cat,” he muttered.
    Instead of heeding him, she leaned into him so the back of his head touched her middle. “I can’t help myself.”
    “The hell you can’t. You know exactly what you do to me.”
    She slid her hands around his neck and touched her thumbs to his windpipe. She’d never try to cut off his ability to breathe. Quite the opposite—feeling him swallow let her tell herself they were sharing something.
    Can we take another run at it? she wanted to say. Put part of yesterday behind us and go back to what’s been good between us. Maybe see if we can reach deeper, touch deeper.
    His long, strong shudder reminded her of a horse about to buck. Confused and a little hurt, she settled her arms by her sides. “Sorry,” she muttered.
    “So am I.” He rubbed his forehead, didn’t look back at her. “Here’s where I started placing my hand beside the prints for size comparison.”
    Hating the effort needed to do anything, she blinked and concentrated. After a half-dozen shots, she concluded that wolves of different sizes had been responsible. Matt’s hand was longer than any of the prints. She wasn’t sure about the width, but what struck her was how easily she could distinguish the rear pad from the toes. The claw marks seemed small until she reminded herself that a wolf’s deadliest weapon was its fangs.
    “That’s remarkable,” she said. “Maybe I shouldn’t think that, but seeing proof of the animal that’s the object of so much controversy in this country thrills me.”
    “Hmm.”
    Touching the mouse, Matt stopped the slideshow.
    “That’s it?” she asked as she again locked onto his unmistakable tension. “I thought you took some out near that sagebrush just before you turned around. Maybe they didn’t turn out.”
    “They did.”
    With his tone warning her to wait, she wrapped her hands around her elbows.
    “Those wolves were walking,” he said. “When they run, their tracks become larger because the foot spreads, elongating the toes and widening the pads.”
    “How do you know that?”
    The chair protesting, he swung around so he now looked up at her. Despite the difference in their height because she was standing, she felt his greater size. His hands gripped the armrest,