Alaskan Sanctuary (10 page)

Thank you again for your time and interest in my work.

Best regards,

Ethan Hale

To: Ethan Hale [email protected]

From: Anna Plum [email protected]

Subject: RE: Thank you

Hello Ethan,

It was great connecting with you. We at
The Seattle Tribune
are following your wolf diary with avid interest. Please contact me as soon as you have an opening in your schedule.

I look forward to hearing from you at your earliest possible convenience.

Sincerely,

Anna Plum

Editor in Chief

The Seattle Tribune

* * *

“W
hat do you think?” Posy held up a tutu that looked too small to fit a wolf cub, much less an actual person.

Piper stared at it, wondering just how miniscule a four-year-old could possibly be. “I think that’s the smallest tutu I’ve ever seen.”

“Nope.” Posy shook her head. “They definitely come much smaller.”

Anya Parker, a friend of Posy’s who’d been recruited for the dance school’s costume committee, looked up from her needle and thread. “One thing’s for sure. It’s definitely the reddest.”

“Good.” Posy grinned. “The theme is
Little Red Riding Hood
, after all.”

“And that’s large enough to fit a real child?” Piper peered through an opening the size of a nonexistent waist.

“For a four-year-old? Certainly.” Kirimi, Anya’s mother, gave a reassuring nod. “Little girls are more delicate than you think they are. They’re just itty-bitty things.”

Piper’s throat grew tight.

Little girls are more delicate than you think they are.

She knew exactly how delicate little girls could be. Once upon a time, she’d been one of those delicate girls.

But why was she thinking about that here and now? The church thrift shop was no place for revisiting her mess of a childhood. Until this evening, Piper had never even set foot in the building.

The thrift store was run by Kirimi, Anya’s mom. Kirimi was also apparently some kind of sewing genius and had agreed to spearhead the costume efforts for Posy’s recital. So they’d all met in the thrift store after hours—Piper, Posy, Kirimi and Anya. The gathering had been a little overwhelming at first. Piper was still growing accustomed to having one close girlfriend, and now suddenly she belonged to a whole group. But their warm welcome soon put her at ease. Aurora was beginning to feel like home.

Piper’s heart gave a little squeeze. She’d been so emotional the past few days. She’d feel perfectly fine one minute and then, with no small degree of horror, she’d find herself on the verge of tears the next. It wasn’t like her. Not at all. And as much as she wanted to blame her atypical mood swings on the fact that someone had come onto her property and vandalized the cabin, she knew that wasn’t the root cause of her weepiness.

No, it wasn’t the graffiti. It was Ethan. Ethan, and the way he’d gathered her in his arms and held her while the snow fell around them as if they belonged in a woodland fairy tale.

Even now, three days later, Piper could hardly allow herself to think about it without her face growing hot. She hadn’t seen it coming. His actions had caught her completely off guard. And then she’d been so moved by the tenderness of the moment that she’d gone completely stiff in his arms. She’d been unable to move, unable to so much as breathe.

She was fairly certain that Ethan regretted it. He’d given her a wide berth the past few days, speaking to her as seldom as possible. She’d done the same. At least that was her intention. Somehow, her gaze lingered on him a bit too long when he came into view. Once or twice he’d even caught her openly staring.

Her world had gone completely upside down from something as simple as a hug.

She shouldn’t feel this way. Ethan might be the man currently painting her cabin and chopping her firewood, but he was doing so under duress. Nothing between them had changed. Nine days from now, they’d say their goodbyes and never see one another again.

She should have simply accepted his embrace with a casual pat on the back. But that hadn’t been what she’d wanted to do at all. The truth of the matter was that she’d wanted to bury her face in the solid warmth of his chest, to gather the soft folds of his flannel shirt in her fists and hold on for dear life. She’d wanted that very much. The ferocity with which she’d wanted his arms around her had stunned her almost as much as it had frightened her.

She’d gone still out of fear. She needed safety. Security. Those were the very things she’d craved her entire life, even more so after Stephen’s betrayal.

Ethan Hale was anything but safe.

Piper jammed her sewing needle into her thumb.
Ouch.
Great. Now she was so distracted by thoughts of Ethan that she was poking holes in herself. Who got so wound up over a simple embrace? She did, apparently.

It was ridiculous. Pathetic, even.

She did her best to ignore the throbbing in her thumb and forced a smile when two more helpers bustled inside the thrift shop.

“Zoey! Clementine! You made it.” Posy rose to greet them both with hugs, which they returned with graceful sincerity. Because normal people knew how to hug.

“Sorry we’re late,” one of the newcomers said. “We stopped by Caleb White’s house on the way to drop off some chicken soup. The poor kid has been sick all week.”

The mention of Caleb’s name was enough to tear Piper away from her thoughts. “How’s Caleb doing? He works for me part-time. I know he hasn’t been feeling well, and I’ve been worried about him.”

She should’ve probably been the one delivering chicken soup to the boy, but she’d been a little busy trying to keep things under control at the sanctuary, not to mention the constant effort it took to stop herself from strangling Ethan.

The woman extended her hand. “You must be Piper. I’m Clementine. Caleb is doing a little better, but he hasn’t gone back to school yet. Apparently, he’s got a really bad case of the stomach flu. Somehow the rest of his family has managed to avoid catching it.”

Piper put down her tutu-in-progress and shook hands with her. “That’s good, at least. It’s nice to meet you.”

Clementine’s friend tilted her head. “You’re Piper Quinn? From the wolf sanctuary?”

A nervous flutter passed through Piper. The town seemed to be dividing itself into two camps—for or against the sanctuary. She wished she knew which side Clementine’s friend was on. “Yes, I am.”

“I’m Zoey.” She smiled. “We’re neighbors. My husband, Alec, and I live on the reindeer farm.”

Chalk one up for
against
. Probably, anyway. “My wolves aren’t trying to eat your reindeer. I promise.”

Zoey let out a laugh. “Don’t worry. I don’t believe everything I read in the paper. Besides, I have a soft spot for animals. All of them.”

An animal lover. Perfect. Piper decided right then and there that she liked Zoey. Very much. “I can’t tell you how much I wish that Ethan felt the same way.”

Zoey and Clementine exchanged a glance.

“Ethan Hale,” Piper said by way of explanation. “He’s the reporter doing the series of stories about my wildlife center. He wrote the rather scathing op-ed piece last week.”

“Oh, we know who he is.” Clementine nodded. “The whole town knows who he is.”

The newspaper was still selling like crazy, even though Ethan’s rhetoric had toned down a bit since the vandalism. Piper wasn’t sure if the change was intentional or not, but his recent diary entries had been informational pieces that described the daily routine at the sanctuary—what the wolves ate and when, how many hours a day they slept. His articles from the past few days hadn’t gained her any new enemies, but the wolves weren’t exactly making new friends, either. She’d had a grand total of zero visitors in the past two days. None.

“The things he’s writing have surprised me,” Zoey said. “I’d expect Ethan to have an appreciation for wildlife, given his work experience.”

“Does he write about animals often?” Piper asked. Maybe she should have looked up his past articles. A little preparation would have been helpful.
Too late.

Zoey shook her head. “I don’t mean his job with the
Yukon Reporter
. I’m talking about before...when he lived in Denali.”

Posy looked up from the puff of red tulle in her lap. “Ethan lived in Denali?”

“Yes, back when Alec lived there. They knew each other.” Zoey glanced at Piper. “My husband lived in Denali for a while and worked at the national park.”

“I see. Did Ethan write about what went on with the animals at the park?” Piper couldn’t help asking. She couldn’t imagine Ethan reporting on a national wildlife preserve.

Zoey shook her head. “No, he didn’t write about them. He worked with them. He was a park ranger.”

Everyone in the room stopped sewing and stared at Zoey. Apparently, Piper wasn’t the only one surprised by this bit of information.

Although to say she was surprised would have been a massive understatement. Beyond massive. It was incomprehensible.

“Ethan is a former park ranger?” Anya blinked. “Wow. I never would have guessed.”

“Did you know about this, Piper?” Posy asked.

“Um, no. I had no idea.” She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Ethan Hale. Mr. Wolf Hater. A park ranger? Never had anything made less sense. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Ethan?”

“The one and only. Alec even has a photo of the two of them together. Ethan still worked at the park when Alec left Denali and moved here.” Zoey shrugged, as though she hadn’t just dropped a gigantic bomb in the middle of the conversation. “So who’s going to show Clementine and me what exactly we’re doing?”

“Here, it’s very simple.” Kirimi launched into a tutorial on tutu construction.

Meanwhile, Piper was still reeling. Ethan had been a park ranger. In Denali, of all places.

The wolf population in Denali National Park had been systematically declining for years. There were presently half as many wolves in Denali as there had been just nine years ago. Park rangers were concerned.

At least
some
of them were. Piper had difficulty believing that Ethan had lost any sleep over the reduction in wolf numbers. Anywhere. Even Denali, one of the most beautiful places on earth. Where he’d apparently lived and worked every day, in the shadow of snowcapped Mount McKinley and on the cool blue mirror of Ruth Glacier. It was inconceivable.

Or was it?

She’d spied glimpses of something beneath Ethan’s restrained exterior. Something primal and wild. It moved behind his eyes with the natural grace of an alpha. When the wind blew just right, or when snow caught in the stubble that lined his jaw.

When he’d held her.

“So how are things going out at the sanctuary, Piper?” Posy reached across her for a spool of crimson thread.

“Hmm?” Piper blinked.

How long had she been oblivious to the conversation going on around her? Two minutes? Five?

No wonder she’d never had many friends. She was living in another world. A world of memories and wolves and the smell of winter pinecones on Ethan’s jacket. It hadn’t made sense before, the way nature seemed to cling to him. In some small way, it did now.

But really. She needed to stop thinking about Ethan. And the embrace. She was certain the incident had meant nothing to him. He’d simply been comforting her, as anyone would have done. He’d probably forgotten all about it by now, and here she was, still dwelling on it. Three days later.

So he’d been a park ranger? If it was true—and she still had serious doubts about the notion—it didn’t change anything. Clearly. He hated the wolves and, therefore, everything she believed in.

Posy’s gaze met hers. And held. “I asked how things were going out at the sanctuary.”

“Oh, of course. Thanks for asking.” Piper swallowed. How were things? Surreal. Confusing. Altogether overwhelming. “Fine. Perfectly fine. We haven’t had very many visitors. Those that do come seem more interested in the feud between Ethan and me than the wolves. But you know, fine.” She breathed out a sigh. “Absolutely fine.”

Posy bit back a smile. “So things are fine.”

“Yep, totally fine,” Piper said. When she looked up from the bundle of red fluff in her lap, she found all four women watching her with undeniable amusement. “What?”

“Nothing.” The grin on Zoey’s face widened, and she exchanged a knowing glance with Anya.

Then Anya chimed in. “Except that you just told us how
fine
you are no less than four times in the span of a minute.”

“I did?” Piper swallowed. Her thumb throbbed from jabbing it with her needle. Yet again. She wished someone would just jam a wad of tulle down her throat so she wouldn’t have to say anything for the rest of the night.

Posy shrugged. “I’m afraid so.”

“Well, I am.” Piper focused intensely on her half-constructed tutu. “Fine, that is.”

Clementine nodded. “Clearly.”

“Good, because we were a little worried when we heard about the graffiti incident,” Posy said.

The graffiti. Of course. One of the many very real, very important things Piper
should
be thinking about.

“I still can’t believe someone in Aurora would do such a thing.” Kirimi shook her head. “So sad.”

Clementine frowned. “I hope you haven’t had any more trouble up there.”

“We haven’t.” Piper assured herself that by
we
she meant her and the wolves. Not her and Ethan. “The police have been really good about keeping an eye on things, but so far, so good.”

“Have they figured out who did it?” Posy asked.

“Unfortunately, no.” Piper shook her head. “The police seem to think it was the work of bored kids.”

At least that’s what Ethan had told her. She hadn’t actually talked to the state trooper about the incident herself. She supposed she should. And she would, when she found the time.

Her to-do list was getting perilously long.

Chapter Seven

E
than woke with a start and banged his head on something. Hard.

He rubbed his rapidly forming goose egg and tried to shake off the disorientation of being jolted out of his slumber. But by what? And come to think of it, where was he? The crick in his neck and the subarctic chill in the air told him he most definitely was not in his bed. Or the plush king-size bed at the Northern Lights Inn. Or any bed, anywhere.