As we approached the first enclosure, Freya trotted right up to the gate to meet us. She ignored Marco as he walked over to distribute the food, and instead she followed me to the watering trough, as if following some well-established routine.
It was endearing, and I couldn’t resist patting her head. I noted that one of her ears had a tiny notch, like something had once bitten a piece out of it. She rubbed around my legs, then flopped into a heap at my feet, waiting for a tummy rub.
As the water filled the trough, I glanced down at her smiling golden eyes and her chocolate-brown coat. Her tongue lolled out to one side, and she had a contagious kind of happiness that lifted my spirits. I rewarded her with a thorough petting.
Thor had finished gobbling his food, and he tactfully sat down at Marco’s feet, not even begging for a pet. The pack leader seemed to know something was amiss, and I was hit with a fresh wave of grief that Thor’s best human friend was dead.
“Let’s move on,” Marco said, wheeling the buckets toward the fence.
I nodded and shut off the water, giving Freya a final scratch under her chin. She was the loving kind of animal that seemed like she’d make a good pet, yet that kind of thinking had led to the ultimate abandonment of most of these wolves. People had thought they could tame the wolf out of them, but at some point they’d had to admit it was impossible.
Marco rolled along in silence. I attempted a little small talk, since I’d have to be working with him for several more days.
“So you’ve known Dahlia for a while?” I asked.
He shot me an unreadable look over his shoulder. “Yeah. She had big dreams, you know? And she’s come so far—building up this place, redoing the barn, advertising—you name it.”
I noted the pride in his voice. Obviously, he’d bought Dahlia’s savior-of-wolves story. Were Rich and I the only ones who had noticed that she was never in the enclosures with her beloved animals?
“You were the one who located the wolves for her, right? How did you go about doing that?” I asked.
Marco plodded along, his back to me. “That’s not important, and it’s not something I share with Dahlia or with anyone. The point is, I always know she’s going to get those wolves healthy and take good care of them.”
I remembered Carson’s accusation that Marco had ties to the black market of wolf fighting, and Marco’s response did little to dispel that notion.
I tried another tack. “Why doesn’t Dahlia let Carson help with the wolves?”
Marco slowed, violently bumping the wheelbarrow tire out of a muddy area and back onto the path. “She protects him like a little baby. I’ve told her to make him carry his own weight around here. But she says Carson has to pursue a more intellectual line of work since he’s gotten his fancy geology degree. Seems to me that degree ain’t worth the paper it was printed on.”
I had to agree. Carson seemed unmotivated, stagnant in the life his mom had foisted on him.
“His grandpa agrees with me,” Marco continued. “He wants Carson to come and work at his construction company. It would be office work—nothing really labor-intensive. But Dahlia will have none of it. She can’t stand the thought of her son working for her ex’s dad.”
Based on my only run-in with Dennis Arden, I figured he wasn’t champing at the bit to employ his grandson, either.
At the gate of Njord’s enclosure, Marco whipped out a key and inserted it in the new lock. Njord and the sibling wolves saw us and rushed toward the second gate, forming a loose line in front of it.
I hoped my apprehension didn’t show as I pushed the gate open for Marco to wheel through. While this pack might not have killed anyone, they’d undeniably chewed on Shaun and attacked Carson’s hand. We were stepping right into an enclosed space with these animals.
Marco didn’t waver as he rolled the wheelbarrow straight toward the food dish. I followed his example and walked directly to the spigot. Unfortunately, Njord ignored Marco and sidled alongside me, frisking about like he’d done for Rich. I tried not to focus on the sharp teeth in his open mouth. Instead, I murmured, “You’re a good wolf, aren’t you, boy?”
Njord gave a little yip and my stomach nearly dropped to my feet, but I kept my back to him and ran the water. Once the trough was full enough, I walked over to the gate, thankful to see Marco standing there waiting for me. He was holding something in his hand and I took a second look at it.
It was his canister of pepper spray.
I’d never even thought of pulling mine out—in fact, I’d all but forgotten each green vest was equipped with one.
Marco held up the canister and shrugged. “Can’t be too careful. I know these wolves, that they’re good animals, but they’re still wolves. Doesn’t hurt to have some protection at the ready.”
I nodded my agreement, walking ahead of Marco so he could lock the gates behind us. As we exited the final gate, Carson rudely speed-walked past us without saying hello. He was heading deeper into the woods and was clearly in a hurry.
“Do you mind if I take a minute?” I asked Marco.
Marco’s gaze traveled to Carson’s retreating back. “Go ahead. Just don’t let him near the enclosures. You saw what happened to him yesterday when he decided to pet the wolves.”
“Right. Thanks. Are you heading home soon? If so, I can feed the smaller animals.”
He nodded. “I had planned to check the meat supply, then I should get going, since I’m in Manhattan. Dahlia seemed confident you could handle the hobby farm animals alone?”
“Definitely. I really appreciate your making a trip in to help out. See you tomorrow.”
As Marco rolled the wheelbarrow down the path, I walked to the top of the small hill. Cupping my hands together, I shouted, “Carson! Could I talk to you just a minute?”
Carson was nearly out of view, but he stopped and turned. “What?”
I shouted louder. “Could you come here a minute?”
He gave a reluctant nod before backtracking to meet me. “I’m kind of in a hurry,” he said, cradling his bandaged hand as if it hurt terribly.
I wondered what was propelling his urgency. I hadn’t seen Veronica today, but maybe she’d gone out on a morning jaunt and Carson was trying to catch up to her.
“How’s the hand?” I asked.
He adjusted his glasses. “The doctors say it’s a miracle those beasts didn’t take off a finger.” As he spoke, he didn’t even look at the wolves in question.
Unlike Carson, I couldn’t help stealing a glance at Njord and his gang. They were curiously watching Carson’s every move.
I refocused on the conversation, which was actually a type of private interrogation. “Can you tell me what happened again? You were trying to explain things yesterday, but I was focused on getting you back to the visitors’ center.”
I’d just given him a prime opportunity to offer me some thanks, but he didn’t. Instead, he launched into his traumatic tale with relish. “Yes, I was trying to pet the white wolf, Njord. He’s always seemed so friendly with Rich. I had just petted Njord—through the fencing, mind you—when next thing I knew, the freaking wolf had my hand clamped in his jaws. I had to use my other hand to pull it out, but by that time the other wolves had gathered and they’d started nipping at me, too. You saw what they did to my hand.”
I nodded. “I’m so sorry. The wolves were definitely behaving strangely with you. They’re not normally like that.”
Carson sniffed. “I hate my mom’s uncontrollable wolves, but I can’t talk her into getting rid of them.”
Why had he tried so hard to pet wolves he didn’t even like in the first place? He must be desperate to prove his competency on the preserve.
I shrugged. “Maybe you could move away—you know, get a job elsewhere.”
He tucked his Oxford-cloth shirt into his jeans. “I haven’t found one suited to me yet. I have a Yale degree, you know? I’m overqualified for most things.”
I struggled to hide my surprise. Carson’s degree was from Yale? Why wasn’t he working some big-time job? “And what is your degree in?” I asked, acting like Marco hadn’t already told me that Carson had a geology degree.
“Geology. I haven’t decided if I want to go back and get my master’s yet. Veronica keeps encouraging me to do it.”
“Getting your master’s would likely mean you’d have to leave home, so your mom would have to manage the preserve on her own,” I said.
“Yeah…” He cast an anxious glance into the woods. “I have to go now. Oh, by the way, how’d you like Marco?”
“He seemed nice enough,” I said.
Carson gave a twisted smile. “I see he’s fooled you, too. He’s a con man, if you ask me.”
“You have any proof?” I asked.
Carson was already walking away, but he turned. “No, but maybe I can get some,” he said enigmatically.