19

Bridger was different at school the next day—nice as always, but nothing more. It lasted all week.

Saturday came. I worked my butt off at the Navajo Mexican, and when my shift ended, I got a ride home from Yana.

“See you tonight,” I said as I climbed out of her car.

“Yep. No more homework, no more books, no more teachers’ dirty looks. Ever!” Yana waved and drove down the driveway.

My aching feet thumped on the front porch. I stepped through the front door and my mouth started watering.

“Surprise!” Mrs. Carpenter said, spreading her arms toward a table covered with way more food than she and I could eat in one sitting. In the middle of the table sat a giant cake with thick chocolate frosting. “Thought I’d whip up something special for your graduation,” she said, laughing. “I even called Bridger to see if he’d come and help us eat, but he said he already had dinner plans.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “That boy doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

After dinner, I put on my—thanks to Mrs. Carpenter—freshly ironed white graduation gown, brushed through my hair, and touched up my makeup. Then I was ready to go.

The dogs were restless, whining from inside the barn and scratching at the door as we walked to the truck.

“It’s just us,” Mrs. Carpenter called. Shash yelped and scratched the door again. Duke howled, a hoarse, guttural sound that had me peering warily toward the edge of the property. “I swear. Those dogs have taken to you like you’re their alpha.” She looked at me sidelong. “Speaking of dogs, tomorrow is the full moon. What can I do to help?”

“Lock me in the barn,” I said, wiping sudden tears from under my eyes before they could ruin my fresh makeup. I had help. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t doing this alone. And it felt amazing.

We got into the truck and drove to Silver High. The school parking lot was packed, every space taken. We parallel parked two blocks away, in front of a stucco house with a cactus growing in the yard, and arrived at the ceremony five minutes early.

“You can go home after the ceremony,” I said as Mrs. Carpenter and I walked toward the outdoor bleachers.

“You have plans?” she asked, a gleam in her eyes.

“Yeah. Bridger and I are going out for hamburgers.” I couldn’t help but smile as I said the words.

She grinned and started humming. “You have fun,” she said. “And speaking of Bridger, why don’t I take a picture of the two of you in your gowns?”

I blushed and nodded.

We made our way to the O section of students, and Bridger stood out like a tree among shrubs. “My goodness, Bridger looks handsome in traditional Navajo garb. That’s what Navajo men wear for formal ceremonies,” Mrs. Carpenter explained, looking him up and down.

He wasn’t wearing the navy-blue graduation gown all the other guys wore. And he wasn’t alone. A stunning girl with silky black hair, an oversized leather shirt with fringe, skintight jeans, and high-heel boots was tugging his head forward. She ran her black-polished nails through his hair, and then slipped a red headband around his head so it fit snugly on his forehead. Next she adjusted the shoulders of his bright blue velvet shirt, then fiddled with the chains of turquoise hanging around his neck. Bridger’s eyes flickered to me and he winked.

The girl must have seen it. She turned and looked at me, her ice-blue eyes wild with curiosity.

I stood where I was, frozen with confusion, staring. Someone bumped me and a warm hand clasped my elbow.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice said. I turned and looked into a pair of dark, semifamiliar eyes. The man continued past me, a blond woman dressed in a suit-dress at his side, and stopped beside Bridger and the girl. The man took a palm-sized camera from his suit pocket and snapped a photo of Bridger and the girl.

“Go on over there,” Mrs. Carpenter said, nudging me forward. Bridger grinned at me and motioned me over.

“Hey,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. “I want you to meet my family. This is my sister, Katie.” He nodded to the girl with slick black hair.

“Kat, not Katie,” she said, her eyes taking in my every detail.

“My mother.” Bridger nodded to the blond woman. “And my dad.”

The man who’d bumped me a moment before studied me with curious dark eyes. He held his hand out and I shook it. “Nice to meet you …”

“Maggie Mae,” I said.

“And how are you and Bridger acquainted?” his mother prodded, her eyes never leaving mine.

“She’s my friend, Mom. From school,” Bridger said hurriedly.

One of Kat’s black eyebrows slowly rose, and aside from having pale blue eyes, she looked just like her brother for a second. “Nice to meet you, Maggie Mae—Bridger’s friend,” she said with a mischievous grin. She gave Bridger a look.

“Hello, Aidan. Vivienne. Nice to see you again,” Mrs. Carpenter said.

Bridger’s mom nodded at Mrs. Carpenter, a slight bob of her head. His dad smiled and said, “Opal. How are you?”

“I’m doing real good. Thought I’d take a picture of Maggie Mae with her friend Bridger.” There was an icy tone to her voice.

Kat moved away from Bridger without a word and looked sideways at me. I stepped to Bridger’s side, yet he eased away from me, making sure there was a good gap of space between us.

“Say ‘cheese,’ ” Mrs. Carpenter said. Before I had a chance to smile, the camera flashed. Mrs. Carpenter patted my shoulder. “I’ll see you later tonight,” she said, and got lost in the crowd.

I looked at Bridger’s family, all staring at me as if I weren’t good enough to be his friend, and I needed to get away. “Good luck. Don’t trip when you get your diploma,” I muttered to Bridger and walked toward the M section of graduating seniors. I could feel his family’s eyes boring into my back the entire way.

The sun set and I sat through two speeches and a choir performance. When the principal started reading the names for diplomas, all the graduating students stood. I got to my feet and took a deep breath of evening air. I’d been waiting for this moment since my first day of kindergarten.

The students at the front of the line started walking toward the stage, but paused, whispering and looking around, pointing toward the darkening skyline. The whispers traveled back, eventually reaching the M section.

“Did you hear it?” someone whispered.

“Hear what?” someone else replied.

“I don’t know!”

“Shh!” someone behind me hissed, and everyone fell silent and still, staring up at the purple sky. And that’s when I heard it. A shiver of ice trilled down my spine as the low, lonely howl of a wolf carried through the dusky air. Everyone started whispering again.

“It was a coyote,” someone behind me said.

“Coyotes yap, not howl,” another student answered.

“But there aren’t wolves around here. There haven’t been for years.”

“No, that’s not true. They tried to reintroduce them into the mountains a while ago. Maybe one or two survived?”

Mrs. Tolliver walked down the line of students, glaring at us. Everyone shut up as the line began to crawl forward. I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax and forget about the wolves and Bridger’s family.

I made my slow way with the other students toward the podium. And then Dr. Smith was reading my name. “Maggie Mae Mortensen, a new student who set a new Silver High fifty-yard dash record.” Coach stood and started cheering. Bridger and Mrs. Carpenter followed, along with Yana and Ginger. And then the male half of the freshman class joined in. Their cheering seemed contagious, as eventually the majority of the stadium was cheering for me.

My cheeks started to burn and a smile tugged at my mouth. I took the diploma from Dr. Smith, blinked against the flash of a camera, and hurried from the stage. I’d done it.

When I got back to my seat, a long, low howl echoed through the dark night. The students sitting beside me glanced around nervously. Dr. Smith stuttered through the name he was reading. When he got to Bridger’s name, I stood and cheered along with every other person at the graduation ceremony. The noise was incredible. Dressed in full Navajo garb, he took his diploma and waved to the crowd.

Within minutes it was over and everyone was throwing their caps, a snowstorm of white and navy-blue squares silhouetted against the almost dark sky.

I made my way to Bridger, excited about the prospect of having him all to myself for the night.

“Congratulations,” he said when he saw me, but he was distracted, looking over the tops of graduates’ heads. “I’m so sorry—I know we were going to hang out tonight, but my mom’s made other plans. I’ve got to cancel. So … I guess I’ll see you around. I’ll call you sometime. Or drop by and help you with the garden.” He smiled and then wandered away.

My jaw dropped open. “But … I … don’t have a ride.” My voice was swallowed in the noise of the crowd. Bridger never looked back. He found his family and left with them.

I stood for a long time in a mass of ecstatic graduates before I had the energy to pull my gown off and put it in the massive bin marked WHITE GOWN RETURN.

I wandered toward the place where Mrs. Carpenter had parked her truck. Of course it wasn’t there. Surely she was long gone.

Not wanting to walk home and explain why I wasn’t out with Bridger, I rummaged through someone’s trash can and found a used grocery bag. Next I located a dense patch of shrubs in front of an adobe house and forced my way into the center of it. I took my shoes and socks off and then unfastened my watch and the yo-ih, and set them all into the bag. Next I took off my jeans and T-shirt, removed my bra and panties, and dropped them on top of the watch, bracelet, and shoes.

I landed on all fours and the sounds haunting the night intensified—police sirens, dogs barking, people cheering, howling, laughing, screaming. My heart pounded against my cougar rib cage. I picked the bag up in my teeth and ran from the sounds, ran from population.

I prowled the uninhabited outskirts of the city, as far away from humanity as I could get. When the sounds of sirens and howling finally stopped, I made my leisurely way toward home, making sure to take a long time—as long as it would have taken to eat hamburgers, fries, and a milk shake at the mine, and then look at the stars.

In some bushes across the street from Mrs. Carpenter’s house, I shifted back to human and got dressed. When I crossed the street and stepped onto Mrs. Carpenter’s driveway, my feet skidded to a stop. Bridger’s SUV was blocking it. And so was yellow police tape.

My hands started to tremble. A shadow moved at the far end of the driveway and I leaped into the shrubs hugging the side of the driveway, just in case I was in danger. The shadow solidified into a police officer holding a dim flashlight. I stepped out of the bushes.

“Is everything all right?” My voice quavered. “Where’s Mrs. Carpenter?”

“Are you Maggie Mae?” he asked, stopping beside me and shining the light in my eyes.

I shaded my eyes and nodded, suddenly sick to my stomach. Something was wrong. Really wrong.

“I have some bad news for you,” the officer said. My windpipe constricted and I could hardly draw breath. “Mrs. Carpenter’s in the hospital.”

“What happened?” I gasped.

“Come on. I’ll show you.”

I followed him past Bridger’s SUV and under the police tape. At the front porch I paused. The porch light was on and something was … different. Deep scratches had been gouged into the red front door. Flakes of paint and wood littered the porch next to the cactus, which lay overturned on its side accompanied by its shattered terra-cotta pot.

Paint and wood chips clung to the soles of my shoes as I walked through the front door. Inside I stopped, too stunned to move. White fluff covered the floor, the furniture, the top of the gun case, even the blades of the ceiling fan—the stuffing from Mrs. Carpenter’s brown leather sofa. The cushions had been torn to bits.

I made my legs carry me down the hall to my room. The sewing table looked untouched, but my small dresser was tipped on its side beside my toppled clothes hamper. My clothes, underwear, and pajamas lay shredded on the floor beside them. The cot was bare and ripped down the middle, my two quilts part of the underwear-and-clothes mess.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Seems some wild dogs got into the house.”

Wild dogs? Demon dogs was more like it. Instinctively I knew—they’d come for me again.

“Tore everything up searching for food,” the officer explained, running his thumb and finger over his goatee.

I looked at my toppled dresser and questioned the food theory. There hadn’t been any food in there. Not even chocolate. And if my bedroom looked like this, what did Mrs. Carpenter look like?

“Is Mrs. Carpenter all right?” I whispered.

“She’s been injured, but it’s not life-threatening.”

“How’d she get hurt?”

“She tried to shoot the dogs and got bit on the leg. Practically tore her calf muscle clean off the bone. She’ll be in the hospital for a few days. In the meantime, do you have somewhere to stay for the night?”

“Um. I … well …”

The floor creaked outside my bedroom. The officer pulled the gun from his belt and pointed it out the door, sidestepping in front of me.

“Who’s there?” he barked. Bridger walked into view, his hands up. The officer lowered his gun. “Good gracious, son! I might have shot you! What are you doing here?”

I stared at Bridger, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, red headband still around his forehead, and wondered the same thing.

“I came to get my SUV, but wanted to make sure it was all right if I moved it.”

The officer nodded. “That should be fine.”

“Maggie, you can stay with me tonight,” Bridger said, glancing at my ruined cot.

I shook my head. “No. I’ll stay …” Where? I couldn’t stay here, not with the wild dogs roaming the area.

Bridger crossed his arms over his chest. I bit my bottom lip and looked at him. He raised one eyebrow.

“Do you want a place to stay or not?” he asked.

I sighed. “Yeah. Just give me a sec to see if any of this is still wearable.” I sifted through the pile of my shredded things and held up the black T-shirt—at least I held up half of it. The other half was somewhere in the mess. I closed my eyes and fought the urge to groan. It looked like I’d be clothes shopping at Wal-Mart in the very near future.

“Are you all right?” the officer asked.

“Yeah. Fine.” I stood and kicked the pile of shredded stuff. “Let’s go, Bridger.” We walked through the stuffing-filled front room and into the dark night.

“So, why are you really here?” I asked.

“I already told you. I’m here to get my SUV.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. I folded my arms over my chest and shivered. A chill had crept into the night and seeped beneath my skin. Bridger unlocked his SUV. “Climb in. It’s warmer in there.” He pulled off his hoodie and handed it to me. I tugged it over my head and thrust my arms into the sleeves. It was filled with his warmth.

I got into the SUV, but Bridger, instead of getting in, too, walked to the vegetable garden and picked up the elk skull, ghostly white beneath the heavy moon. He carried it to the edge of the property and placed it back between the two trees. The exact spot I’d taken it from.

As he walked back to the SUV, his eyes met mine. He opened the door and the interior light flashed on.

“Don’t mess with the ring of protection again,” he said, and got in. He shut the door and the light stayed on while he put the keys into the ignition. The sleeve of his long-sleeve T-shirt lifted as he cranked the engine, and then the interior light dimmed to dark.

“Wait!” I turned on the light and leaned toward him. Taking his hand in mine, I pushed his sleeve up, revealing three bloody gashes on the back of his wrist. He sucked a breath of air in through his teeth and pulled his arm from me. “You’re hurt. What happened?”

“It’s nothing.”

“What happened? Why are you here? And why are you bleeding? I want the truth.”

He looked at me and lifted his hand. I shrunk away, thinking of Naalyehe’s warning. But all he did was turn off the interior light. “When I got home from dinner, I could feel someone’s fear—really feel it like I was experiencing it myself. It was so strong, I could even tell whose fear it was—Mrs. C.’s. I knew something was wrong. So I left and came straight here. When I got here, there were three wolves in her house.”

“Wolves? The police officer said it was dogs.”

Bridger shook his head. “Wolves.”

“And one of them bit you?”

“No. Those are claw marks. I was chasing them from the house and one lunged for me.”

“You were chasing wolves from the house, bare-handed?”

“I had Smith and Wesson backing me.”

“Who?”

“Mrs. C.’s Magnum. You know, her gun.”

I leaned back in my seat and stared out the front window. Wolves—not the pack of dogs that had attacked me a month ago. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? “That is freaky.”

“Yeah.” Bridger put the SUV into drive and pulled out onto the quiet road. We passed a parked car wrapped in police tape. I pressed my nose to the window.

“Whose car is that?” I asked.

“Danni’s,” Bridger said, his tone nonchalant.

“Danni Williams’s?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s her car doing parked in front of Mrs. Carpenter’s property?”

Bridger glanced at me. “She came to vandalize Mrs. C.’s house. The cops found shaving cream and rolls of toilet paper in her car—her graduation gift to you, Maggie. Only, she got a bit of a surprise.”

“What do you mean, ‘bit of a surprise’?”

He pulled the SUV to the side of the road and looked at me. “She’s in the hospital. She was attacked by the wolves, too. They don’t know if she’s going to live.”