Alaskan Sanctuary

by Teri Wilson

  A Change of Heart

  Piper Quinn is fighting for the future of her wolf sanctuary. A painful childhood has taught her to be more comfortable with animals than humans—especially the beautiful wolves of Aurora, Alaska. So when reporter Ethan Hale arrives to cover her struggling shelter—and deems the wolves a danger to the community—she’s ready to prove him wrong. A former park ranger, Ethan’s seen just enough tragedy to support his claim. Soon their difference of opinion is front-page news. And Piper and Ethan must reconcile their opposing views with their stubborn hearts that are quickly finding refuge in each other.

  “Ethan, why are you here? You never told me.”

  “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d go for a drive. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay up here.”

  “But the police are keeping an eye on things.” Her lips parted ever so slightly, and the ache in Ethan’s chest became an actual physical pain. “Tell me the real reason.”

  Of course there was more to it than that. More than he could admit even to himself. More than he could articulate.

  Time was running out. He needed to put a stop to this. Now, while he still could. “It’s late, and you can stop looking at me like that. I’m not one of your wolves, Piper.”

  She flinched. His words had hit their mark with the desired effect. “I don’t… I mean…”

  What was wrong with him? He was an idiot. Such an idiot that he kept talking when he should have shut his mouth. “I don’t need a champion, Piper. And I don’t need saving.”

  Teri Wilson grew up as an only child and could often be found with her head in a book, lost in a world of heroes, heroines and exotic places. As an adult, her love of books has led her to her dream career—writing. Teri’s other passions include dance and travel. She lives in Texas, and loves to hear from readers. Teri can be contacted via her website, teriwilson.net.

  Books by Teri Wilson

  Love Inspired

  Alaskan Hearts

  Alaskan Hero

  Sleigh Bell Sweethearts

  Alaskan Homecoming

  Alaskan Sanctuary

  ALASKAN

  SANCTUARY

  Teri Wilson

  “The wolf and the lamb will feed together…

  they will neither harm nor destroy

  on all my holy mountain,” says the Lord.

  —Isaiah 65:25

  This book is dedicated to the people and wolves at the Colorado Wolf and Wildlife Center in Divide, Colorado.

  Acknowledgments

  Many thanks to the best agent in the world, Elizabeth Winick Rubinstein and her fabulous staff at McIntosh & Otis, Rachel Burkot, Melissa Endlich and the wonderful people at Love Inspired, my critique partner, Meg Benjamin, my writing bestie, Beckie Ugolini, and my family and friends for their unwavering support.

  Thanks also to Sue Healey for naming Shasta the wolf and Chris Meager for naming the Pinnacle Hotel, where our hero Ethan Hale grew up.

  And as always, I thank God for the gift of words, making my dreams come true and allowing me to write for a living.

  This book could not have been written without the help from the staff of the Colorado Wolf and Wildlife Center. If you love wolves, please visit them at wolfeducation.org. If I’ve made any mistakes in my depiction of these beautiful animals, please forgive me.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Rocky Mountain Reunion by Tina Radcliffe

  Chapter One

  “Who’s afraid of the big, bad wolf?”

  Piper’s heartbeat hammered against her rib cage. There was just something about looking into the eyes of a wolf at close range, something thrilling that brought about an instinctual response. Breathtaking. Primal.

  The animal stood less than a foot away, one hundred forty pounds of sinuous muscle, gleaming white teeth and ebony fur. A timber wolf, with penetrating eyes the color of Klondike gold.

  He took a step closer.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  The wolf blinked once, twice, three times. Then, without breaking eye contact, he rose up onto his powerful back legs, planted his front paws on her shoulders and licked the side of her face.

  Who’s afraid of the big, bad wolf? Tra la la la la.

  “Big and bad, my foot.” Piper gave the wolf a generous rub behind his ears. “You’re a marshmallow, Koko.”

  Koko showered her with more wolf kisses, heedless of the fact that it took every ounce of Piper’s strength not to shrink beneath the weight of his massive frame. At only a year old, Koko was still very much a pup and seemingly unaware of his size. And his power. Not to mention the intimidation factor that came with being a wolf.

  Stature, strength and piercing gaze notwithstanding, he didn’t frighten Piper. She couldn’t remember a time when any of the wolves did. Years ago, perhaps. Before she’d ever had the idea to start the sanctuary. Before the first rescue.

  Before.

  “Piper! We’ve got a visitor.” Caleb White, the one and only paid employee that she could afford, stood outside Koko’s enclosure, eyeing their interaction with curiosity. Koko swiveled his massive head in the teenager’s direction and dropped back down to all fours. “I think it’s him.”

  Him.

  Piper didn’t need to ask whom Caleb meant. There was only one him whose arrival she’d been anticipating, only one him who mattered at the moment. “I’ll be right there. Give Mr. Hale some hot cocoa while he waits, okay? With marshmallows.”

  “Sure thing, boss.” Caleb’s feet crunched through the snow as he followed the trail back in the direction of the tiny log cabin that doubled as the visitors’ center and Piper’s living quarters. For now, at least.

  Once she got the sanctuary certified by the National Nature Conservatory and secured one of their coveted grants, all that would change. She’d have the funding she needed to make this place everything she dreamed it could be. And the first step in making that happen was to get the support of her new home, Aurora, Alaska.

  That’s where Ethan Hale, a journalist for the Yukon Reporter newspaper, came in. Or so she hoped.

  She fastened the double gates of Koko’s enclosure and gave the wolf a final wave. “Wish me luck.”

  Koko loped to the fence and poked his slender muzzle through the chain link. Piper felt the wolf’s gaze on her back for the duration of her walk to the visitors’ center. Of all the animals she’d rescued—from the turtles she’d gathered from the middle of the Colorado streets and carried to safety at the side of the road when she was a little girl, to the wolves she’d driven hundreds of miles to pick up and bring back to the sanctuary—Koko was her favorite. He was special. He’d needed rescue, perhaps more than the rest. He remembered where he’d come from.

  Wolves never forgot. Neither did she.

  When she reached the log cabin, she brushed the snow and straw from Koko’s paws off the shoulders of her parka and sent up one last silent prayer. Please, God. We need this. Then she pushed open the door, prepared to greet Ethan Hale with her warmest, most welcoming smile.

  He stood inside the cozy cabin, clad in a brandy-colored parka with a fur-trimmed hood, frowning into his cocoa. Piper felt like frowning herself at the sight of that fur. It looked an awful lot like coyote. Or possibly even wolf, which was too revol
ting to even consider.

  But this was Alaska, not a fashion runway. Things were different this close to the Arctic Circle. She knew that. Still...

  She averted her eyes from the parka’s hood. “Good morning. You must be Mr. Hale.”

  He looked up and pinned her with an impassive stare from the most luminous set of eyes she’d ever seen. They were a mysterious, fathomless gray, set off by lashes as black as raven wings. It was rather like looking into the eyes of a wolf. Not just any wolf, but an alpha.

  Cool. Confident. Intense.

  She blinked, and felt fluttery all of a sudden, as if she’d swallowed a jarful of the Arctic white butterflies that sometimes drifted on Alaska’s purple twilight breeze.

  That was odd. Odd and more than a little bit unsettling. She’d never reacted to a man on first sight in such a way before. Certainly not in the months since Stephen.

  Her heart gave a little clench. Now was not the time to examine such things. And this man in particular should not be giving her butterflies. First off, there was the matter of the suspect fur-trimmed hood. Secondly, he was here to be wooed by the wolves. Not her.

  “You’re Ms. Quinn, I take it?” he asked flatly. Clearly he was in no mood to be wooed. By anyone.

  “Call me Piper. Please.” She smiled and waited for him to reciprocate. He didn’t. “So, um, thank you so much for coming. I’m thrilled that the paper has agreed to run a story on the work we do here at the Aurora Wolf and Wildlife Sanctuary.”

  He said nothing, just kept appraising her with those enigmatic eyes of his. The mug in his hand was piled high with an almost comical tower of marshmallows. They’d begun to melt, drip over the rim and onto Ethan Hale’s massive hand. Good old Caleb. The boy was such a sweetheart. He even picked flowers from the grounds on occasion and brought them to her. The vase of violet bell-shaped blossoms resting in the center of her kitchen table was just such a bouquet.

  She reached for a napkin, handed it to the reporter and tried to imagine him picking flowers for someone. Not likely. “Sorry. I think my helper may have gone a little overboard with the marshmallows.”

  “Thanks.” He traded her the mug for the napkin and dabbed at the sticky mess. “Your helper? Singular? You have no other employees?”

  “No, just the one.” Why did she feel the need to apologize? Again. This time, for her lack of help. “For now. Although the youth program at Aurora Community Church has been a real help since I’ve moved in. They spent an entire Saturday here last week putting up the fences.”

  “High school students? You plan on staffing this place with minors?” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a notepad and wrote something down.

  Piper couldn’t bring herself to look and see what that something was. “A larger staff is one of the improvements I plan to make once we’ve been accredited by the National Nature Conservatory.”

  He lifted a dubious brow. “Your facility has been open for only five days, and you already meet the standards for an NNC grant?”

  She’d expected to have to explain what exactly the NNC was and the types of monetary aid they provided for ecological programs that qualified, but it appeared Mr. Hale had already done his homework.

  Good, she told herself. Maybe this means he understands how important this is. He gets it.

  “Not yet.” She cleared her throat. “These things take time. I’m still putting together the necessary paperwork. But applying for certification is my immediate goal, because once we have NNC approval, we can provide care for animals on the endangered list.”

  He crossed his arms. She’d just confessed her dearest wish, and he didn’t look the least bit impressed. “So you intend to bring more species into the area.”

  “I hope so.”

  He glanced out a frost-covered window toward the enclosures. “Will these additional animals be dangerous predators, as well?”

  Dangerous predators?

  Maybe he didn’t get it, after all.

  “While wolves are indeed predators, I wouldn’t be so quick to call them dangerous. Particularly rescued wolves living in captivity.” Her hands were shaking. She forced a smile. “Unless you’re a bunny rabbit.”

  “Or a child.” A muscle in his jaw twitched, and suddenly it seemed as though the most dangerous predator in Alaska was Ethan Hale himself.

  How was this interview going so horribly wrong when he’d yet to set eyes on a single one of the animals?

  Yes! That was the answer. He simply needed to see the wolves for himself, then he would realize they weren’t the ravenous, bloodthirsty monsters that he was apparently imagining.

  “Why don’t I give you a tour of the sanctuary? I think that will put to rest any worries you might have.” At least she hoped it would. At the rate things were going, she wasn’t quite sure.

  He walked wordlessly out the door and into the snow. Piper took a deep breath and followed. The crisp morning air swirled with snowflakes as she led him down the path toward the wolf enclosures, their footsteps muffled by a blanket of pine needles. When she paused at the first metal gate and turned to look at Ethan Hale, snow had already begun to frost the tips of his dark eyelashes. He looked less angry out here, beneath the snow-covered blue boughs of the hemlock trees. As if he belonged here, in Alaska’s white, wild outdoors.

  She wished he were less handsome. Disliking him would have been easier, and so far, he hadn’t given her much reason to like him.

  She looked away and focused instead on the white wolf peering at them from behind the chipped gray bark of an aspen tree. “This is Tundra. She’s an Arctic wolf, and it looks as though she’s decided to play hard to get.”

  He squinted into the wind. “I don’t see anything.”

  “She’s behind the tree. Look for the pair of copper eyes blinking back at you.”

  “There she is. Her white coat is quite striking in the snow.” A hint of a smile creased his rugged face and then vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

  Those annoying butterflies began to dance again. Piper assured herself they’d reappeared only because she’d succeeded in drawing a smile from him, if just for a fleeting moment.

  “She’s a beauty.” Piper reached into her pocket for a chunk of dried meat. “Here, toss this over the fence.”

  He eyed her open palm for a second before reaching for the treat with fingertips that felt unexpectedly warm in the frosty air.

  “Go ahead. Give it a good throw.”

  He did, and Tundra charged out from behind the aspen tree in a flurry of kicked-up snow and powder-white fur. She leaped a foot off the ground, a flying snow angel, and caught the treat midair.

  “Impressive,” he said.

  “Would you believe that until three months ago, she’d never been outdoors? A pair of college kids in Canada got her as a pup from an illegal breeder and decided to keep her as a pet—” Piper paused “—in the bathtub of their dorm.”

  Ethan Hale’s brows rose. “The bathtub?”

  “The bathtub. They fed her mainly pizza and leftovers from the dorm cafeteria. They thought it was cute. Then she grew into an adolescent wolf.” Piper watched Tundra make a sweeping circle around the perimeter of her enclosure. Piper could have stood in the same spot all day, watching this wolf run. Free at last. “Tundra has no idea how to live in nature like a real wolf. She’d never survive on her own. But wolves are wild animals and aren’t meant to be pets, either. Wild is wild. This place is her last resort.”

  “How’d she get here?” he asked.

  “I drove to Edmonton and picked her up.”

  The corner of Ethan’s lips quirked up. It was only a half smile this time, but she’d take what she could get. “You drove to the middle of Canada to rescue a wolf from a dorm bathroom?”

  Piper shrugged. “How else was she going to get here?”

  He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher. “I suppose you have a point.”

  “Come on, I’ll show you the others.”

>   As they walked from one enclosure to the next, she gave him a brief history of each wolf—its age, type, where it had come from and the circumstances that had led to its rescue. She explained that so far, the sanctuary was home to two wolf species—the Arctic and the Timber. Once the rescue center was accredited, she planned to provide sanctuary for the Mexican Gray wolf, as it was in serious danger of extinction. There were only seventy-five of them left in the wild.

  If this sad fact tugged on Ethan Hale’s heartstrings in any way, he gave no indication. Piper was beginning to wonder if he even had a heart.

  But she’d saved the best for last—Koko. He pranced right up to the fence to greet them, ears pricked forward, ebony coat dusted with snow. Beside her, the reporter tensed as Koko pushed his muzzle through the chain link.

  “Are they always so...so...” Ethan frowned. Piper wouldn’t have thought it possible for a face so handsome to frown any harder. Yet somehow the tense set of his stony jaw made him appear even more mysterious. Impassioned. Alpha-esque.

  Good grief. What was wrong with her? She’d been hanging around wolves too long. Clearly.

  “I suppose the word I’m looking for is agitated.” Something flickered in the restless depths of his moody gray eyes. “They seem borderline aggressive. Are the wolves always this wound up?”

  Are you?

  “Actually, a more appropriate description would be playful. Not agitated.” Piper smiled as sweetly as she could manage, given the circumstances—the circumstances being that the future of her wolf sanctuary, her lifelong dream, now rested on whatever this...this arrogant jerk decided to write in his newspaper.

  How had it come to this? She’d packed up and moved from Colorado to Alaska with little more than the clothes on her back and a trailerful of rescued wolves. She’d spent every penny she had on this place. She’d taken a leap of faith. Didn’t God normally like that sort of thing?

  She hadn’t been running away, no matter how badly things had ended with Stephen. She’d been running toward something. Her future. And now a very large part of that future depended on this interview, this interview that was going so horribly wrong.