by Terry Spear
They finally found part of the snowmobile, and the guy wedged underneath it. As soon as they’d unburied him enough that his face was freed and he could breathe fresh air, he began gasping to fill his lungs.
Thankfully, the snowmobile had partially protected him from some of the snow, and he had a pocket of air that had helped him hold on for a while longer. They dug around his face and shoulders where the snow was up to his neck. He was lying on his back like the other man had been. Like that man, he was staring at them as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. They barked to let the first man know they’d found his remaining friend, then continued to dig because he was so busy trying to extricate the other man.
Candice hoped the unharmed man hadn’t lost his cell phone and had called for help. She didn’t see his snowmobile anywhere. She was glad she and Owen had made a difference in the men’s survival. Either or both of the men could still succumb to their injuries, but at least they were alive and breathing on their own. She licked the snow off the red-helmeted guy’s face while Owen continued to dig out the snow around the man’s chest. She started digging again farther down, trying to find his legs. At least the avalanche hadn’t buried the snowmobilers too deep. She’d heard of victims’ bodies that couldn’t be recovered until spring thaw.
The wailing of sirens alerted them that emergency crews were on the way. Her heart skipped a couple of beats. Candice was grateful that the unharmed man had been able to reach emergency services. Reception could be dicey out here sometimes. The arrival of the rescue teams also meant she and Owen had to leave before the rescuers saw them. She continued to work with Owen, allowing it to be his call on when they had to disappear. Since he’d been a wolf longer, she assumed he would know better. She didn’t want to run off before they absolutely had to.
“Hey!” someone called from the other side of the mountain. “Where are you?”
The man who was still digging around his friend shouted, “We’re here! Over here!”
“We’re on our way!” a rescuer shouted back from just around the bend.
Candice glanced at Owen, who was hurriedly digging deeper. Both of them were now in a pit where they’d been working on the snow. They weren’t very visible to anyone, but she didn’t want to be caught here. What if men went in search of her and Owen later? What if news crews tried to capture images of the rescue dogs that had saved the men? Especially when wolf biologists identified them as a couple of Arctic wolves and not dogs.
Owen was so busy that she thought maybe he had forgotten he was a wolf. She woofed at him.
He nodded and leaped out of the pit, waiting for Candice to follow him before he raced off. She jumped up beside him, ready to run.
“Wait,” the partially buried snowmobiler called out weakly to them, as if they had reassured him that they would get him out, but now they were abandoning him to his fate.
She woofed at him, jumped back into the pit, and licked his face to reassure him he’d be all right. Then she jumped back out.
He had trained emergency rescuers coming for him. She and Owen couldn’t do anything more for him than they had at this point. Still, she hated leaving him when he seemed to feel she was someone he could rely on, someone who had made him feel as though he’d live through this ordeal. Hopefully, he would be smarter the next time. Or not. If he could beat death once, why not again?
Owen bounded down the mountain away from the emergency crews and buried men, but also away from her home. She was right on the big wolf’s heels. She didn’t know where he was going until she realized he didn’t want to head straight back to her place. Great. She was all for rushing there, and she would have, figuring she’d be safer inside her home no matter what. How would she have explained the trail left by a rescue dog that looked like a wolf that had headed right to her wolf door and gone inside? Then again, without visual evidence, no one would be able to verify the men’s stories if they claimed wolves had rescued them. Who would ever believe it?
That gave her a bit of relief.
Maybe the snowstorm would obliterate their tracks. She realized, without question, that Owen was staying the night with her. In the guest room. Though she didn’t want to join a pack, she loved how caring he was and how protective, even if it meant risking his own safety. She trusted his instincts and followed him away from her home, across an icy river—their paw pads helping to keep them from slipping on the frozen riverbank—and then swimming to the other side. She couldn’t imagine doing this in her human form. It was nearly dusk, and she was exhausted when he led her back home. She’d begun to think he’d lost the way and she was lost with him.
She could hardly wait to push through her door. She paused and waited for him to join her. Then she licked his nose in thanks, and he licked hers back, their gazes holding for an instant. She woofed and dashed off again for the house. Realization dawned that if someone had captured them, she wouldn’t have been alone. That his pack would have known there was trouble when he never reported back in. That someone would have come to their rescue. If he’d been caught and she had remained free, she could have called his friends for help. If men had captured her, she knew beyond a doubt that Owen would have come to her rescue, no matter the danger to himself.
She realized that was what a pack was all about.
Sure, she’d written about pack dynamics in her werewolf romance books, but it was one thing to imagine what it would be like with a hunky hero at her side and quite another to be living that during real danger.
* * *
Owen couldn’t believe the trouble they’d found themselves in. The buried snowmobilers never would have made it if he and Candice hadn’t been there to help them. He’d hated taking Candice into the dangerous situation though, not wanting to risk her life. But he knew she wouldn’t have returned home without him, and he’d figured that two of them could work at rescuing the men better than one. They hadn’t even been sure at first if anyone had made it out alive. He was just glad one man had been able to call for an emergency crew, and that he and Candice hadn’t gotten caught.
He was still playing the whole scenario out in his mind, unable to let go of it. The avalanche sliding down the hill. The snowmobile engines running full out. And then all he’d heard were the wind whipping the tree branches around ahead of them and the blowing snow surrounding them. No matter how much he’d wanted to protect them both from discovery, he couldn’t have let the men die. He’d had to try his best to give them a chance to live.
As soon as they reached Candice’s place, Owen intended to shift, dress, and pack his bag. Then he’d leave and find a nearby hotel to stay for the night. He’d return tomorrow and again try to convince her to go home with him. To meet the pack. To learn that they were a good group of people, and maybe she’d want to join them.
They finally reached the clearing where her house sat. Owen was amazed at what a fast runner she was, even though he was much taller than her and she had to be exhausted after the workout they’d both had. She dove in through the wolf door first, and then he followed. She raced off for her bedroom, and he was heading for the guest bedroom when he hit the red-and-white snowman throw rug covering the wooden floor. The rug went sliding—and so did he. Unable to stop himself, he slid into the kitchen island, jamming his right rear leg against the cabinets. Damn it!
If he lived here, that rug would have to go up on the wall for decoration, or somewhere else out of the footpath. Not that it would normally cause problems, he thought. Just when dashing through the house as a wolf, which he wouldn’t usually be doing. Glad she hadn’t seen him take the spill, he got to his feet and felt a twinge of pain around his ankle. Hell, he’d twisted it slightly. He hoped the sprain would disappear quickly.
He reached the guest room and shifted, but as soon as he did, Candice called out to him, “Are you all right?”
* * *
Candice came out of her bedroom weari
ng jeans, a white sweater, and socks, boot slippers in hand, fully intending to make them dinner. When she saw the throw rug scrunched up next to the kitchen island, she knew exactly what had happened.
Ever since she’d started decorating for Christmas, she’d meant to hang the rug somewhere and put down another one that was a lot more slip-resistant. She lifted the rug off the floor and set it on a chair in the living room for now.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” Owen hollered.
“I’m going to fix dinner. Do you have anything to wear that isn’t quite so formal?” She thought maybe he kept something casual in the car for emergencies.
“I’ve got other clothes in a bag in the car. I always take spare clothes. If the car had broken down somewhere along the way in this weather, I could have been in real trouble without warm winter gear. That is, if I couldn’t just shift.” He limped out of the bedroom. Not a bad sprain, she thought, but a slight one.
Candice held out her hand palm up for his keys. “Let me grab your bag. How badly did you sprain your ankle?”
“It’s just a twinge.” He handed her the keys.
“Which can worsen if you’re trying to trudge through the snow to reach your car.” Where he’d parked, it was still pretty deep, and she didn’t want him to have to walk through the snow if he didn’t have to. “I have an ice pack in the freezer… Just sit and I’ll secure it for you.”
“I’m fine, really.”
“Sit,” she said as if speaking to her dog.
Owen took a seat at her counter, his mouth curving a little, his blue eyes smiling.
“On a recliner…any of the three that are part of the sectional couch. You’ll need to elevate your foot.”
“It’s not that—”
She gave him a look that said she was in charge of this situation, then pulled out the ice pack and handed it to him. “I’ll be right back.” She hated that he’d hurt himself, especially when it was her fault. She hurried outside and unlocked the blue SUV’s door. His bag was on the backseat, and she smelled that he’d had coffee on the trip, cheeseburger, fries, but no trash. Impressed he was such a neat guy, she grabbed the black bag and relocked his door, then went back inside.
“Need any help changing?” The words were out before she realized what she was saying.
Owen smiled so wickedly that she dropped the bag on the sectional recliner next to his and sat at the other end to pull off her boots.
“I planned on going to a hotel tonight,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt and setting it aside. “Do you know any close by?”
He was seriously hot, with well-molded abs and biceps, plus a light dusting of dark hair trailing down to his dress pants. He had to stand up to pull them off, and she jumped off the recliner to help him.
He chuckled. “I really can do this all on my own.”
“And then if you injured yourself further, you could sue me.”
He laughed. “Okay, I’m all yours.” He held on to her shoulder while she unfastened his pants. Once he’d stepped out of them, she laid them on the other recliner and helped him into a pair of jeans.
They heard emergency vehicles’ sirens close to the mountain, leaving the area. “Good, they’re on their way to the hospital.” Candice helped him put on his socks and noticed he winced when she pulled the one on, no matter how gently she tried. She pointed toward his snow boots. “You don’t need to wear those. You can have dinner and elevate your foot and put some ice on it. I’ll fix dinner in a minute, and then you can stay the night.”
He pulled on a sweatshirt and sat back down. “Thanks, Candice. I appreciate it.”
She set a Christmas tree lap blanket next to him and then situated the ice pack around his ankle. “Remove it—”
“Right. I know the drill. Some people have left ice packs on to take care of a sprain and ended up with major frostbite.”
“Exactly.” She headed into the kitchen. “I still can’t believe we managed to locate those men.”
“You know what the statistics of survival are when snow buries them like that, right?”
“Not good. If they’d had to wait for someone to come dig those men out?” She shook her head. “We had a similar case like this last year. The guy’s friend actually reached him and managed to dig him out enough so he could breathe. He was lucky, having been under only about ten minutes and having had a pocket of air. But he was suffering from hypothermia and hypoxia. He survived though.” She opened the freezer door. “Steaks all right?”
“Way to a man’s heart.”
She laughed. “I knew my hearing and sense of smell were good, but I never suspected that I could hear a man buried under the snow. At first, I saw the strange depression in the snow in that one area. I figured one of the men might have been moving around underneath it.”
“I agree. It was a miracle. What would we have done if all of them had been buried?”
“Kept on digging.”
“But without a cell phone? Without one of them being able to make the distress call? It could have ended a lot differently.”
“I agree. Do you want baked potatoes? Spinach?”
“Both sound good. I need to call Cameron and let him know I’m staying the night.”
“Do you have to?” She didn’t want his friend thinking something more was coming of this, like she was leaving her home to join their pack, or that she might even be interested in something more—like mating a wolf. If real werewolves were anything like she pictured them to be.
“Yeah. I need to let him know about the accident. Even though nothing happened that would cause the pack alarm, we still keep one another informed in case we find ourselves in a potentially dangerous situation. Plus, he knew about the snowstorm headed this way and tried to talk me out of leaving until it had passed, but I wanted to tell you about the inheritance as soon as I could. Cameron might worry that I’m trying to return in the snowstorm.”
Candice realized how nice that must be, to have others watching her back. And she hadn’t even thanked Owen for coming to talk to her.
“Thanks for coming here with the news. I was busy finishing up a book, and I hadn’t read my messages for a couple of days. I really appreciate it. I still can’t believe my parents left me anything.”
“I wish it was the phase of the new moon already so I could take you there now to resolve it.” He pulled out his cell phone, but before he could make the call, it rang. He glanced at the ID. “Well, Cameron’s calling me instead.” He answered the call. “Yeah, Cameron, we just got back from the—”
Candice stuck the steaks and potatoes in a baking pan and put them in the oven. She was going to fix them something to drink when she heard a pause in Owen’s conversation and turned to see what was wrong.
His eyes were wide, and his mouth open in surprise. Now what? “Television? Hold on.”
The mention of the television made her think of news reports. She should have figured that the news would be reporting the accident already. But Owen hadn’t even told Cameron that they’d been at the scene, so why would he say anything to Owen about it? Not unless the news reporter had mentioned two Arctic wolves rescuing two snowmobile victims in South Dakota.
Owen turned on the TV, and there on the mountain stood a female reporter, talking about the situation during the final stages of the rescue. The news crew had come well after Owen and Candice had left, so that was good.
Then the reporter was interviewing the uninjured snowmobiler.
“Yeah, yeah, I swear they were wolves. White wolves. You know, that live in the Arctic. I was still probing around in the snow, trying to locate Kent, when I saw the two wolves digging out Wally. I didn’t know what to do. Chase them off? Had they planned to eat him? I figured if they could get at Wally, then I could run over and chase them off before they bit him. I hadn’t even found Kent yet. Then they barked at me, as if they w
ere dogs and wanted me to come rescue him. I grabbed my shovel, and they gave me a wide berth. I figured they thought I was going to hit them, which I was prepared to do if they attacked me. But why not come after me if they were hungry? Why not just eat me? Less work, right?”
Candice was barely breathing. No one would believe the men. What were the odds that two Arctic wolves would even be in the area? And further, that they would have rescued two snowmobilers?
“Are you sure they weren’t big, white dogs?” the reporter asked.
“Nah, I know a dog when I see one. Hell, here’s a video of them.”
Candice’s heart did a triple beat.
“Wally said the wolves saved him. He wanted me to take a picture of them to show to his parents. I did one better and videotaped them at work. No one would ever have believed us otherwise.”
“And there you have it. Man’s earliest best friend. In this case, two Arctic wolves, possibly wolf dogs, rescuing two of the snowmobilers who were victims of the avalanche you see here today.”
Candice couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the short clip of the video the snowmobiler had taken. She figured he’d be tweeting it for the whole world to see next. Not that anyone would recognize her in her wolf form, but what if tons of people descended on the area, looking for the white wolves that had rescued the men to take pictures of them too? What if hunters descended on the area, wanting to kill the white wolves?
What if wolf biologists came to capture the white wolves to study them? What if…what if she needed to move now? She could just imagine being cooped up in the house for weeks when she couldn’t bring the shifting under wraps. Especially with the full moon on its way. That was the only thing that made living out here by herself worth the trouble. She could run as a wolf without any problems.
She also couldn’t believe Owen’s pack was already aware of the situation. But she supposed any mention of wolves got their attention. Was Cameron angry with them for helping the men and risking discovery? Or just worried about them? Were he and his mate their pack leaders? She wondered how that would work. Did the wolves marry?
