Sylvie stared at him trying to marry the teasing kindness of his gesture with his earlier boorishness but couldn’t. She would have to think about it all later. After the wolves.
“Hadn’t we better get going again, Jean-Luc?” she asked as she struggled to her feet, fighting off pins and needles in her legs.
They gathered their things together and hefted their backpacks for the last stretch to the den. Jean-Luc helped Sylvie over the stream. When they were halfway up the bank on the other side, he stopped by a clump of rhododendrons and dropped off his pack, gesturing to Sylvie to do the same.
“We’ll just take binoculars and camera from here. We can come back if we need anything else. ”He pushed the packs out of view into the shrub.
When they reached the top of the next spur, Jean-Luc signaled to Sylvie to lie down and inch up to the crest marine-style. Jean-Luc was there first and put his finger to his mouth and then pointed and nodded vigorously.
11 : All’s well, or is it?
A long grassy ledge about forty feet wide lay before them. A cave ran back into the hillside, an overhang of rock making a canopy over the entrance. Lying fast asleep in front of the opening were four full-grown gray wolves and five cubs. A fifth wolf was keeping watch while fending off the attentions of a sixth cub.
Jean-Luc put up his binoculars and moved them from one to another as he checked the animals out. He gave Sylvie the thumbs up and handed the binoculars to her. This was her first sighting of a European gray wolf. She noticed they were smaller than their American counterpart but well proportioned with plenty of muscle. Their coats were already thick, ready for the winter.
The guard was a female, probably a straggler who had joined the pack, and she was doing double duty as nanny for the cutest little thing Sylvie had seen in a long time. At about six months old, he was no longer a ball of fluff but he was still something of a baby in the way he was playing with his honorary aunt. He kept darting forward, grabbing her tail and then whisking away before she had time to turn round and nip him. All of a sudden, he bounced backwards too far and landed on … his father … who awoke with a growl and then settled back again to doze in the afternoon sun. It was a happy family scene.
Sylvie and Jean-Luc stayed where they were, waiting for the rest of the pack to wake up from their siesta and start moving around.
Jean-Luc whispered, “Want to be sure the wolves are all healthy. See them steady on their legs with no wounds or bites.”
His patience paid off when the alpha female scrambled to her feet and went round nudging her offspring awake with her muzzle. She and the two aunts floored the cubs one by one, washed and groomed them. As each cub escaped, it joined its siblings in a pretend tussle-to-the-death, practicing all the moves it would need for real out in the wide world of the Park.
The two humans kept silent and still, observing the family life of the pack.
“It’s fascinating, Jean-Luc,” Sylvie said quietly in his ear, her nose brushing lightly against his cheek as she pulled away.
Before she knew what was happening, he rolled on to his side and grasped her face between his hands and stared deep into her eyes, his own alive with questions. He seemed to get the answer he wanted for he drew her closer and sought her lips with his, a delicate testing kiss. When he met no opposition, he teased his tongue between her lips, enticing her to respond in kind, but it was too unexpected for Sylvie. She pulled away and sat up abruptly, only to be drawn down again hastily by Jean-Luc.
“What did you do that for?” she hissed between her teeth.
“What? Kiss you or pull you down?”
“Kiss me, of course,” she answered in exasperation. “I know why you yanked me down – to stop me from scaring the wolves. But the kiss? We’re work colleagues not sweethearts.”
“Sylvie, it was only a little kiss. Don’t make so much of it.”
Sylvie wasn’t sure whether she was more annoyed that he had taken her by surprise when he kissed her or because he now said it was only a little kiss, with the implication that it wasn’t important.
Jean-Luc excused himself, “It was the sunshine, watching the wolves play happy families and seeing you lying there looking so inviting. A moment’s madness and I’m sorry. Tu comprends? You understand?”
Sylvie made him wait for her answer to teach him a lesson.
“No hard feelings?” he asked again.
She relented and smiled back. “No, you’re forgiven this time but remember that a kiss is always a kiss. It is never just a little kiss.”
“Touché! Friends again?”
Jean-Luc crawled backwards until he could stand without his head showing over the top of the crest and motioned for Sylvie to follow.
It was a relief to be upright once more and they spent a few minutes stretching their limbs and rubbing all the places that had been in contact with the hard ground for so long. They collected their backpacks, crossed the stream and hurried back the way they had come. The temperature was falling fast and cloud was moving in. They made it back to their vehicle before the sun set behind the mountains, stowed their gear and lost no time in getting under way. There wasn’t much conversation on the way back; Jean-Luc concentrated on his driving and Sylvie was lost in her thoughts, processing all that she had seen and experienced from the wolves to Jean-Luc’s strange kiss. What the hell was that all about?
When they arrived at her hotel, he came round to her side of the car to help her down with her backpack. As he took her hand, Sylvie felt the now familiar tingle run through her at his touch. Maybe he was magnetic? He held onto her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Sylvie, you had a good day? Yes? And I am forgiven for getting fresh?”
“Of course, Jean-Luc. And I think we are going to work well together from now on.”
She offered her face up for the French bise, turned and walked to the door where she stood watching him drive away. As he reached the end of the street, he gave a toot on the horn, flashed his lights and sped round the corner. Sylvie’s spirits rose and she hurried into the hotel, eager to tell Lisa all about the past twenty-four hours.
Lisa wasn’t there. She had left a note to say that Robert had come for her, and was driving her around the corner to the bar for an evening meal. Would Sylvie please join them? She couldn’t make up her mind. She was weary but hungry. She wanted to talk to Lisa but with Robert there, she wouldn’t be able to. Hunger won out. She took a quick shower and hastened round to Le Chien Ivrogne.
Greetings over, she tackled Robert about chauffeuring Lisa around. “The doc says Lisa has to use the leg not sit about like a lady of leisure.”
“Shush, Sylvie,” said Lisa. “Robert is being kind and he is making me feel good - cherished even. Leave him alone.”
Robert smiled with fondness at Lisa and put his hand on the table to show that he had Lisa’s in a firm grasp.
Sylvie pulled out a chair and sat down. “So that’s how it is?”
Lisa gave a coy smile and Robert said, “Unfortunately, I can’t take Lisa back; I have to leave now and visit my mother.”
He gave Lisa’s hand a kiss and placed it carefully back on her lap. “Do you think you two girls can get Lisa home safely? Her crutches are over there by the coat rack. I think you will find that that is exercise enough for today, non?”
“That’s fine, Robert. I’m sure I can support Lisa if she needs me to. You go. We’ll see you tomorrow at the office?”
As the bar door closed against Robert, Sylvie gave a deep sigh.
Her friend glanced up at her. “That was a momentous sigh, Sylvie. Are you tired or confused?”
“A bit of both. We had a long hike again today, three hours in and three out and much of it was uphill going in and then downhill coming out. And it was an early start - five in the morning - up before the birds.”
“Was it worth it? Did you see the wolves?”
“Oh yes, the full pack of five adults and six cubs. The weather was unbelievable and the wolves were
magic. We lay and watched them for hours.”
“How did you and Jean-Luc get on? Was it all right?”
“It was fine, he was fine. Treated me like a professional colleague. He was thoughtful and respectful.”
Lisa watched her friend’s eyes as she remembered the day. There was something she wasn’t giving up. “But …?”
“Well, you know how I have found myself fancying Jean-Luc in spite of his arrogance and his hostility towards us but I don’t know what to make of him. I saw a different side to him last night here in the bar. He’s well liked by everyone we’ve met, he plays the harmonica –”
“No!”
“Oh yes, and well. It’s obvious that the guys in the bar like and respect him.”
“And the women?”
“It goes without saying really, doesn’t it? You’ve seen how the girls watch him and approach him but he’s Mister Lone Wolf himself.”
Sylvie hung her head and looked off to the side.
“I can feel another ‘but’ coming on,” prompted Lisa eyeing Sylvie’s hesitation.
“Lisa, he kissed me!” said Sylvie in a burst, as if she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer.
“What Mister Stand-off kissed you? Where and why and how?” asked Lisa, gagging for the details.
Sylvie explained what had happened and how she had reacted.
“Did you like it or not?” asked Lisa.
“I didn’t really have time to know. It was such a surprise. And I don’t know why he did it. He was kind today. We established a comfortable companionship and then he changed the rules just like that. He said it was nothing and I shall take him at his word. The last thing I want is complications of the heart. Don’t forget I’ve sworn off all that, Lisa. But what about you and Robert?”
“I like him and he likes me and that’s all there is at the moment but it’s doing my French the world of good. He’s my measure; no dark moody men for me.”
“Nor me,” agreed Sylvie while a little voice deep down inside said, ‘Oh yeah?’
It was obvious from Jean-Luc’s behavior in the office the next day that he was going to draw a curtain over his ‘kiss’ and proceed on the basis of professional colleagues. Sylvie was happy to follow his lead and keep life simple.
During the next couple of weeks, they settled into a pattern of four days in the office and one day on a trip up into the Park to check on the other wolf packs. Things were going well and all the packs they had visited and monitored were prospering.
The snow had begun to fall in the mountains the weekend after their trip to visit Pack Number Three. There had been no further attacks on the wolves reported, but Jean-Luc warned that the snow increased their vulnerability to human attack. It was more difficult for the wolves to find food and they had to range further afield. The worst effect of the change in the weather was that it was easier for the hunters and poachers to trace the wolves through their spoor in the snow.
The same held true for the wolf census, of course. The hundreds of volunteers, who combed the mountains during the winter period, depended on the wolves’ trails in the snow to track them, collect their feces for DNA analysis, count the different sets of paw marks to establish their numbers, and pinpoint their dens. Jean-Luc’s little team was busy organizing the volunteers, packaging up the DNA samples and sending them off, and inputting the latest data.
They had already made one trip in the third week but on the Friday morning Jean-Luc came into the office and tapped Sylvie on the shoulder where she sat at her workstation.
“Sylvie, I need you now! We must go and take another look at Number Three Pack; I’ve had the most ghastly presentiment all night that there is something wrong. I’d like to set my fears at rest before the Christmas break.”
Robert broke in, “Gut instinct, Jean-Luc?”
“Absoluement! My stomach’s been tied in knots since the early hours but I couldn’t decide whether I should go or not.”
He turned back to Sylvie. “It’s a late start and we may not be back until midnight but I think you should come with me. If there is anything amiss, your skills may be needed. Can you come with me?”
“Of course, I can. Just let me close down my PC. Pick me up in ten minutes. I have to go get my winter gear on.”
“Robert, can you come in to the office tomorrow? I know it’s Saturday, but just in case we don’t make it back tonight and we need to get in touch?”
“Sure, and Lisa will come in with me. We can catch up on some of this mountain of data. Allez-vous-en … toute de suite! Go ... now!”
12 : Return to Wolf Pack Number Three
It was half past nine by the time they were on the road, and long past midday when they reached the point where they had to leave the car. Even in the Range Rover, the going had been slow because the roads and tracks in the Park were only cleared intermittently during the winter. No one used them except the Park rangers.
Loading up for a trek to a den was a familiar procedure for Sylvie by now and she had her backpack ready with her chosen first aid kit. Jean-Luc added a small inflatable sled to his equipment. They put their snowshoes on and duck footed up the incline on the diagonal to lessen the gradient of their climb and shorten the time of their journey.
Wading through the deep snow took a heavy toll of their muscles. Sylvie was thankful for the workout their previous expeditions had given her. There was no way she could have started out with a trip such as this. Although they were pushed for daylight, Jean-Luc insisted they stop every half hour for a quick cup of hot sweet coffee and a high-energy bar. They reached the crest near the den with a couple of hours of weak daylight left. Sylvie was hoping against hope that all would be well on the other side of the spur. She took time out from the steep climb to glance at Jean-Luc. He was ahead of her but every once in a while he turned round to hurry her up. An icicle of blood hung on the edge of his lower lip where he had been biting it continuously since they left the vehicle.
Three yards from the ridge, they knelt down in the snow and, pushing it aside to clear a path in front of them, wriggled up to the top of the crest. What they saw was worse than anything either of them could have imagined. Instead of being holed up safely in their den against the cold, the wolves lay prostrate on the dirty flattened snow in front of their cave. There was no movement at all; they were not asleep. Sylvie gasped and heard Jean-Luc cry out, “Merde!” as he surveyed the scene before them with his binoculars.
“Looks like a total massacre; I think they’re all dead, Sylvie, but ... viens ... come ...we must go down and check. If we’re not too late we may be able to save one or two.”
They scrambled to their feet, jumped over the crest and slid down the slope to the plateau in front of the den.
Jean-Luc took out his pistol and held it at the ready. “Be careful, Sylvie. Even a dying wolf can savage you. Look for signs of life from a safe distance first. I don’t want to have to shoot a wolf to save you if one turns on you.”
Sylvie ran forward and examined them one after the other from a reasonable distance. It looked as if all of them were dead.
“Jean-Luc, get your dogcatcher’s pole and snare each wolf in turn so that I can verify whether it’s alive and worth saving, or dead. Quickly, we only have minutes if it’s what I think it is.”
While Jean-Luc snapped the pole into action, placed the loop round the first wolf’s neck and secured it, Sylvie took a quick look round. Regurgitated food lay on the ground in front of one of the wolves, a female. She had been feeding the cubs when she was overcome but the food showed what had killed them. The half-digested meat was laced with the pink poisoned wheat seed used to poison mice and rats. A devastating, fast-acting killer. As Sylvie moved closer to the wolf, she snarled feebly and tried to stand.
“Quick, Jean-Luc, this one’s alive. Maybe I can save her. Bring the pole.”
She undid her kit and filled a hypodermic with an antidote. There was only a fifty-fifty chance she was choosing the correct one. With
two types of poison used against rodents, each having a different antidote, it would be a question of luck whether she had picked the right one as there was no time to test the grains.
As soon as Jean-Luc had the loop round the wolf’s neck, she plunged the hypodermic into the bitch’s flank.
“That will tranquillize her and in about twenty minutes if we are lucky she will start to vomit. If not, she will die. It really is touch and go.”
“And the others?” asked Jean-Luc, barely keeping the tremor out of his voice.
“I’ll check them one by one but I’m not hopeful.”
So it proved. There was only the one survivor and she was only just hanging on.
“I think she was saved by the fact that she was feeding the cubs,” said Sylvie. “She regurgitated most of the poisoned meat only to poison the cubs. How sad?”
“Sad?” Jean-Luc screamed to the sky. “Sad? It’s wicked. How could anyone do that? Pure wanton destruction and for what. To feel big? Don’t give me that crap about saving the flock.”
Sylvie sat back on her heels in the snow, the full impact only now hitting her as she had had to hold herself together to administer what help she could up till then. The female rolled over onto her side and struggled to get up onto her hindquarters.
“Jean-Luc, bring the noose back. I need to help this one stand so she can vomit and not drown herself.”
He didn’t appear to have heard her so deep was he in his distressful ranting. Sylvie got jerkily to her feet and went over to him. She reached up and slapped him sharply on the cheek. He spun round ready to punch her but at the last second he came to himself and clapped his hands to his eyes, head bowed.
“So sorry, so sorry, Sylvie. I just can’t believe it. We’ve lost ten wolves. Ten! Maybe even eleven, if that one doesn’t survive. And for what?”
Waking the Wolf (Coup de Foudre) Page 9
