Lunch finished, they mounted and started backto the house. The country was beautiful, poised on the edge ofspring. A crisp wind caught up with them on the plateau, where noteven a tree hindered its progress. She unfolded her jacket collarand hunkered down in the saddle, cold and miserable.
Cade reined in and pointed. Her gaze followedin the direction he indicated. About two hundred yards away a lonewolf stood poised for flight, watching them cautiously. Its legswere long and lean and its head was held low, ears erect. It lookedhungry and cold. Cynthia glanced up at Cade.
“Do you lose many cattle to wolves?”
He shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I lose somecattle every year. Usually they succumb to the cold, heat ordisease, but sometimes they simply disappear. Most of the lossesare calves, though. There again, it’s hard to say whether they diefrom natural causes or attacks by predators. Of course, thatincludes Pumas and coyotes as well.”
The wolf finally decided they were no threatand turned his back on them, trotting away across the vastgrassland.
“I noticed that you always carry a rifle whenyou go out. Do you ever shoot any wolves?”
He scowled at her. “The rifle is foremergencies only. I try to live in harmony with nature.” He watchedthe wolf disappear into the tall grass. “The fact is, when wolvesattack a herd, they always take the weakest animal. That’s thenatural selection process at work - survival of the fittest.Farmers don’t butcher their best animals, either. They leave themfor breeding purposes. It’s the hunter that throws nature out ofbalance, selecting only the best game.”
“So you’re against hunters andfishermen?”
He glanced at her and his lip twitched. “No,I simply think there is a proper way to do things, and humans havea habit of doing what pleases them at the moment, not what is bestfor the future.”
“So you’re saying the wolves improve yourherd by culling out the weakest animals?”
Again the lip twitched. “In a manner ofspeaking. Of course, it would be more profitable for the ranch ifI culled those animals by taking them to the slaughterhouse.”
“That’s why the other ranchers want to killoff the wolf? To improve their profits?”
“More likely so they can stay in the black. Ihave enough acreage and cattle to absorb some of the loss. Most ofthe ranchers are barely getting along as it is.” He grimaced. “Thetrouble is; my ranch has been a safe haven and even headquartersfor the wolf population around here. So far I don’t think I have aproblem, but I have to consider those other ranchers when I decidehow many wolves this land can support. The more they get to eat,the more offspring they will produce, and some of those offspringwill need to stake out new territory. So far, deer and rabbits areeasier for a few wolves to pull down than a healthy cow, but if thepack gets too big they may go after cattle. I don’t make thedecisions alone, though. State game officials are involved aswell.” He turned his horse and they started out again.
She hugged her arms and hunched down into herjacket, her teeth chattering. The more she learned about the way hethought, the more she was convinced that people around him were thestrange ones, not Cade.
The next time she talked to Mary, she said asmuch. Mary smiled knowingly.
“I told you so.”
“Told me what?”
“You’d fall for him.”
Cynthia caught her breath. “I haven’t fallenfor him. I was simply stating that I agree with the man.”
“Sure, and you haven’t entertained a singleromantic thought about him?” Mary watched her intently.
Cynthia knew her face was getting red. Shecould feel the warmth of the blush as it crawled up her neck. Sherolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. He’s a good eight years olderthan I am.”
“Six, but who’s counting? Oh, I forgot. Youwere the one who thought about it long enough to calculate it out.”Mary smiled; a devilish twinkle in her eye.
The blush was developing into a burningflame. “Nothing is going on, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
Mary shrugged. “Not yet, anyway.”
Cynthia winced. “Don’t you have any faith inme at all?”
Mary gnawed on her lower lip and it was herturn to blush. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m judging you by what I’d bedoing in your shoes. I had an awful crush on him when we were inhigh school. He was the one that kept me honest. I sure didn’t havethat much will power.”
Cynthia sighed. “I thought you were mightyinterested in him. I should have known. Well, he isn’t interestedin me, so the door is still open for you.”
Mary studied her reflectively and finallyspoke in a hushed tone, as if she didn’t actually want to know theanswer to her question.
“You say he’s not interested in you. Are youinterested in him?”
The blood bounded back into her neck. “Onlyas a friend.”
Mary smiled and the twinkle came back intoher eyes. “Now he’s a friend. Before that he was a boss. What willit be a month from now? Don’t try to fool an old fool. I can tellby the color in your cheeks. You’re falling for him.”
“I am not,” she snapped and then shrugged.“Let’s not argue about it.”
Mary lifted her brows and then nodded. “Allright, let’s talk about something else. How is it going withScruffy?”
Thankful for the change of subject, Cynthialaunched into a description of her latest conquests with the cat,again tucking that nagging doubt to the back of her mind. Thinkingabout Cade in that way could lead to no good. She was simply lonelyout there and he was good company - the only company.
CHAPTER FOUR
Gradually winter released its grip andflowers erupted from the ground in celebration of spring. EvenScruffy seemed to acknowledge its arrival, allowing Cynthia toremain on the porch when he ate the table scraps. Eventually herattempts to tame him paid off, and he allowed her to touch him -provided she was careful not to move too
