SIX

Before I moved to the country, I used to think there were man-made things, like skyscrapers and cars and paved roads, and there was nature, which basically meant anyplace that had grass and a few trees. Red’s ex-girlfriend, Jackie, was the one who had set me straight.

“This country around here’s about as natural as my hair,” she’d explained, pointing at her poor, frazzled, overprocessed blond head. “It’s been used and abused by people for the past four hundred years or so, and now the only thing it needs is about four hundred years to recover. Like my hair.”

But nature can reclaim a landscape, if left to her own devices. And that was what Jackie was doing with her land—leaving it to grow wild and unruly. Which is why I was muttering a little prayer as I changed into first gear for the long, steep drive up Jackie’s unpaved road. About three quarters of the way up, the dirt turned to ice; at this elevation, the ice and snow never melted completely until late April or early May.

By the time I got to the top of the mountain, Jackie’s mixed breed wolfdogs had gathered into a growling, snarling pack around her trailer’s front door. They didn’t bark—there was too much wolf in them for that. And they wouldn’t attack me, because although I wasn’t quite pack, I wasn’t a complete stranger, either.

“You planning on staying in there all day?” Jackie grinned at my startled reaction, resting her handax on her shoulder. She was dressed in a down parka and Wrangler jeans, and her windblown blond hair had oxidized to an unfortunate shade of apricot that clashed with her chapped, red cheeks. The wolfdogs gathered around her as if she were their queen.

“I like for you to be around before I go walking up to their den,” I said, honestly. As I stepped out of the car, I caught the smell of wood smoke and resin.

Jackie propped the ax against a respectable woodpile. “That’s a bit chickenshit, considering that you can change into a wolf.”

“It’s not my time of the month. Besides, I only turn into one wolf, so I’d still be outnumbered.” Jackie had known about my lycanthropy for longer than I had; Red had confided his suspicions to her from the beginning. She had a kind of easy, pragmatic acceptance of all things supernatural, as if shapeshifters and werewolves were no stranger than horoscopes and lucky numbers. She believed in those as well.

“You don’t need to worry. My babies aren’t vicious to people or dogs,” Jackie said.

“I know.” I held out my gloved hands so Jackie’s wolf hybrids could sniff me. One or two, the ones with more dog in them, warily wagged a tail. The others, more skittish, danced away from me every time I moved. People buy wolf hybrids expecting some kind of savage überdog. What they get, nine times out of ten, is an animal as timid and wary as a rabbit. Wolves don’t survive in the wild by being indiscriminately savage. They survive by being cautious and fierce. Of course, the distinction can seem moot if the animal winds up clamping its teeth on your forearm.

“So,” Jackie said, “how’s my girl doing at work?” Before Malachy had turned her human, Pia had been Jackie’s favorite, her furry daughter, allowed in the house and on the bed. As a young woman, Pia still lived with Jackie, but these days, she doted on Malachy.

“Pia’s great,” I said. “When does she get home?”

Jackie checked her watch. “In an hour or so. The loop bus drops her off at the base of the mountain, and she hikes the rest of the way.” Jackie paused a moment. “But these days, she’s leaving work later and later. I think she’s angling for Malachy to give her a ride home—or better yet, to let her stay over at his place.”

Malachy lived in an apartment over the offices. “Really? That’s funny, because she’s so jumpy when he’s around. I was under the impression that he intimidated her a bit.”

Jackie looked at me as if I were a little slow, then gathered up an armful of wood. “Don’t try to tell me you don’t know that my girl has a woman-sized crush on that old stick of a boss.” Carrying the wood over to the side of the trailer, she dropped it in a large metal basket, then crouched to stack the wood more evenly. “Good lord,” Jackie said, as I added a much smaller armful of wood to her pile, “you’re as bad as she is. Pia’s missed out on about twenty-eight years of human courting etiquette, so it’s all I can do to stop her from lying on her back and waving all four legs in the air. And you haven’t noticed?”

I shrugged, embarrassed by my lack of social acumen. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think Malachy’s noticed, either. He thinks of her as a kid.”

“Does he?” Jackie’s eyes were shrewd. “I wonder.”

I went back for another load of logs; Jackie was the sort of person you impressed with actions, not words. Besides, there was something satisfying about performing a basic, physical task like gathering wood. I could feel the cold through my leather gloves, and my fingertips would probably be numb when I went inside, but for now I was enjoying the soft rose glow of the sunset between the bare trees in the west, the shadowing of the valley below into soft mauve and indigo, the smell of wood smoke. A few of Jackie’s wolfdogs were trotting by my heels, but when I looked at them they broke away, loping toward the forest. At the edge of the clearing, they sat and whined, and one or two pointed their noses to the tree line and sang out a soft howl of greeting.

Pia came out of the forest wearing a gray sweatshirt, a down vest, jeans, and sneakers, and unless you looked closely, you might have mistaken her for a high school boy. Except that she wasn’t carrying a backpack; Pia had never gotten into the human habit of carrying things with her. As she came closer, I saw that her cheeks were flushed, and I noticed that she hadn’t taken the path up the mountain.

The other dogs whined and laid their ears flat as she walked up to them, beating their tails slowly from side to side. Clearly, they loved her, but there was something confused and tentative about their posture. Pia looked miserable as she crouched down to bump noses with them.

“Pia,” Jackie said, “I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.”

Pia rested her head against one of the other dogs; Patsy, I think. “Malachy said I should go before it got dark.” Pia was attempting to sound matter-of-fact, but she looked as though she were reciting a list of casualties of war. She stood up, blinking back tears as she added, “He says my hours have to change until it’s spring.”

Jackie put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders, and Pia cringed. Crossing another’s body meant dominance to canines; Jackie still hadn’t figured out how to touch a human child with wolfish instincts. Pulling back, Jackie sighed. “Ah, well, honey, he’s looking out for your welfare.” Then Jackie noticed her foster daughter’s cold, bare hands. “Sweetheart, you forgot to wear mittens again.”

“Did I?” Pia looked down at her fingers. “I didn’t notice.”

I was clearly the most clueless woman of all time. Now that I knew, it was painfully apparent that Pia was infatuated with our boss. After all, he was emotionally unavailable, autocratic, condescending, and critical. What woman could resist? “Hey, Pia,” I said.

“Oh, hi, Dr. Barrow.”

“Abra. Call me Abra.”

Pia met my eyes with difficulty. She had been a submissive wolfdog, and now she was a diffident woman. “Sure … Abra.” She attempted a smile, but it came out crooked.

“Why don’t you go inside and grab a bite to eat?” Jackie smiled. “I bought some cookies, and you can help us give the other guys their shots.”

Pia shook her head, looking at the other dogs. One or two whined, and then broke off and moved up alongside me. I patted one absently, wondering why I was suddenly so popular with Jackie’s dogs.

Pia must have been wondering the same thing. Her soft gold eyes, so like Red’s, filled with tears. “Actually,” she said to Jackie, “if you don’t mind, I’d rather just go for a quick run.”

“It’s getting dark, and I need to keep the others with me, to get their shots,” Jackie said.

“That’s all right. I’m used to being alone.” With a short bark, Pia told her former packmates to stay. Then, with a glance at Jackie and me, she held up her palm. “Stay,” she repeated in English. And then she broke off into an awkward run, as if she still had forgotten for a second that she couldn’t just throw her body forward. With an embarrassed glance over her shoulder, Pia found her rhythm and then was swallowed up by the woods.

“Come back before full dark,” Jackie called, then turned back to me. Still looking after her, she said, “Since you didn’t know about her feelings about Malachy, you might not realize, but she’s jealous of you.”

“Of me? Why?” But as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew. “Oh, Christ on a crutch,” I said, almost pleading with Jackie. “Malachy has no interest in me as a woman. As far as I know, he doesn’t want anybody in that way.”

“I know, I know,” said Jackie, looking tired. “But you’re his peer and he respects you, and she thinks you’re the other woman.” I had to wonder how much Jackie had to do with that misperception. “Come on, Abra, let’s get on with tending the dogs.”

I went back to my car and grabbed my medical bag, the male hybrids following me like an honor guard. The sun was lower on the horizon now, and shadows were chasing what remained of the light. It was still prime hunting time, though when I glanced down at the dogs, they were utterly focused on me. Two of them kept circling round and sniffing at my legs with rising levels of excitement. For a moment, I wondered if they were planning an attack. “Hey, Jackie? Just keep reminding them I’m an invited guest. Where do you want me to give them the vaccines?”

Jackie gestured at her trailer, which looked even more forlorn in the winter than it had in the autumn. “Set up on my kitchen table. I’ll bring them in one by one.” To my surprise, the dogs continued to follow me as I opened the trailer door.

“Come on, boys,” Jackie said, pushing the dogs away from me. “Give her some room to move.” As she opened the door, she said, “They’re a bit nervous these days. Some city idiot is busy knocking down trees about a mile away. And there’s another bulldozer starting in down that way.” In a softer tone of voice, Jackie addressed the dogs who were scrambling to get in through the door in a giant, furry pack.

I laughed, because I’d never seen them so eager to be examined. “Jeez, one at a time, I can’t even get in the door.”

“Now, stop it, boys,” Jackie said, a bit more sharply, “you can’t all come in at once. I want the Doc to see Patsy’s dewclaw first.” Jackie shooed the dogs away, although one, a large husky mix, seemed intent on sticking his muzzle in my crotch. I managed to get myself over the threshold as Jackie stood in the doorway, berating her pack with mock sternness.

“Jeez, you guys, lay off her. And where’s Patsy and Miyax? How come it’s just you boys dogging her? Huh? Huh?” The wolfdogs whined and looked abashed.

I turned and looked for a place to set up my medical kit. There was a coffee cup filled with old cigarette ashes on the kitchen table, which I moved into the pile of dishes in the sink. The trailer stank of Marlboro Reds and wet dog, and by comparison, Red’s cabin was roomy and luxurious.

Thumbtacked on the walls were various photographs of the wolves, along with a snapshot of a much younger Red, holding a wolf cub on his lap. There was also a picture of Red and Jackie together, on the back of a dogsled. Like everything else in the trailer, these were covered by a fine coating of dust. I wondered if Jackie had cleaned the place at all since the last time I’d been here. That had been last year, and I’d been hiking, miserable about the state of my marriage but still in denial about what was happening to Hunter. Jackie had told me that she knew that Red and I were going to get together, but even though she’d accepted it, it had been clear she wasn’t exactly happy. It wasn’t jealousy; at the time, they were no longer a couple. But Jackie had worried that I was going to end up bringing Red more pain than happiness.

In the end though, Red had walked me home, and somewhere along the way we’d taken an unexpected detour into intimacy.

“All right, I couldn’t get Patsy, but here’s Romulus, ready for his shot.”

I jumped a little as Jackie brought the German shepherd mix in. Misinterpreting my guilty look, Jackie gave a rueful smile. “It’s a mess in here, I know. But I spend all my time outside.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Jackie. I don’t know how you find time for everything as it is.” In addition to her work with the pack, most of whom had suffered in their former homes, Jackie was a wildlife rehabilitator. She took in many of the creatures Red removed, and also served as an unofficial nature warden, keeping tabs on the nests of endangered birds and turtles, and watching out for fire hazards in summer. Her only real source of income, as far as I could tell, came in the form of donations for the wolves, with a little extra from the sale of her homemade moonshine. Which reminded me, I had to bring Red back a bottle.

“Don’t let me forget to buy some of your whiskey,” I said as I removed my coat and gloves.

“You don’t have to buy it, girl.” Jackie bent down to pull a bottle out of a drawer, and I realized that she was stocky with muscle rather than fat.

“You have to let me pay, Jackie.”

“How about you just loan me Red back for a night? Just kidding, Doc. Red and I are past all that nonsense. And he would never cheat, you know. He’s a good man, and there’s not too many of them going around.”

I murmured something in agreement, then busied myself giving the shepherd mix his vaccines. As far as I could tell, Jackie’s affection for Red was that of an old friend, and she certainly didn’t act as though she were jealous or resentful of me. Still, it was clear that she saw me as the younger, more sophisticated woman who had bewitched her old boyfriend. It wasn’t a role I was comfortable playing.

“So,” I said, changing the subject with my usual lack of grace, “anything going on with the pack besides needing their rabies and Parvo boosters? You said Patsy had torn one of her dewclaws.”

Jackie’s eyes twinkled with amusement at my discomfort, but she followed my lead. “Let me think. Loki’s gone and gotten into a fight with something. Banged up his tail pretty good. I bandaged it, but I wanted you to take a look while you were here.”

“I didn’t see him when I got here.”

“He was there; he’s just shy and easy to overlook. But he’s my special boy, because when he warms up to you, he’s one of the smartest, kindest dogs you’ll ever meet. Reminds me of the way Pia used to be.”

I suppose all parents must feel some shock when their sweet, smooth-skinned little boy or girl suddenly shoots up, sprouts hair, and breaks out in angry adolescent acne and opinions. But dogs and tame wolves exist in a kind of perpetual childhood, and Jackie had never expected her furry girl to rebel. I think Jackie was more shocked at Pia’s emotional shift than she was by her physical transformation—after all, Jackie had known Red in more than one form.

Out loud, all I said was, “She still loves you, you know.”

Jackie shook her head. “All she can see is the ways I don’t quite measure up.”

“I’m sorry, Jackie. I’m sure it’ll pass.” But I could see that for Jackie, a human daughter was a poor excuse for a dog.

In a way, meeting Pia had been the start of all the changes in my life. Jackie had brought her into the Animal Medical Institute, mistakenly thinking that the services there were basically free. She’d also had some trouble with some of the local vets, who believed she was breeding wolf hybrids instead of rescuing them. But when Jackie had learned how expensive the Institute really was, she’d thought we wouldn’t let her have Pia back, and had sent Red to do a little wildlife removal operation.

“You done with Romulus now? I’ll take him out and bring Loki in.”

I was done with Romulus, but he wasn’t done with me. Whining and snuffling, he fought to stay inside with me as Jackie half coaxed, half dragged him back outside.

Jackie was back in a matter of moments, leading Loki on a loose leash. In a show of affection completely out of character for the shy animal, Loki jumped up and actually licked me on the face.

“Well, that’s some hello,” said Jackie, sounding mystified. Unlike dogs, wolves stop bonding with new people after about three months of age.

“Guess you really like me, boy.” I ruffled Loki’s brindled gray fur. For a moment, I actually thought he was going to stand and let me examine his tail, but then, right on cue, a chain saw fired up, making him jump and cower under the table. “God, Jackie, that’s awful. I thought this whole area had been declared a wetlands preserve.”

Jackie squinted out her small window in the direction of the offending noise. “Yeah, well, you know how that goes. Somebody offered somebody some money, and presto, an expert appeared who redrew the boundary lines.” Jackie coaxed Loki out into the open, rubbing his ears until he looked up at her with a purely puppy look of devotion. She held him while I ran my hands up and down his tail. “My neighbor set up the lights so they can work after dark.”

I was about to say something sympathetic when I felt Loki wince at my touch. “Jackie, is there any chance that Loki could have gotten into a fight with some of the other dogs?”

“Sure, there’s always a chance. Why do you ask?”

I took out my tweezers and removed a claw from the thick, double coat of fur near Loki’s tail. “Tell me. What do you make of that?”

Jackie took the claw in her palm. “That’s not dog or wolf. That’s a bear claw.”

“I should show it to Red. He said he had a run-in with a bear. Well, not exactly a bear.”

She paused. “Is he all right? And what’s not exactly a bear?”

“There’s a bit of a story there, and I think Red should probably be the one to tell it.”

Jackie looked at the claw again. “You mean something supernatural,” she said. “A regular old black bear would be hibernating this time of year.”

I started to reply, but then the whine of the chain saw drowned out the possibility of easy conversation. Jackie’s generous mouth tightened into an unhappy grimace. “Of course, who can sleep, with that racket going on?”

An hour later and we were done. We’d successfully vaccinated all eight of the wolfdogs, and I’d given Loki a shot of antibiotic and bandaged up Patsy’s paw, and Jackie had loaded me up with two bottles of bourbon and one of home-tapped maple syrup from the previous spring.

As she walked me to my car, the wolfdogs swarmed around me again, but this time there was no mistaking their mood. Wagging their tails like excited puppies, Romulus and the husky mix jockeyed each other for the right to sniff, while the usually timid Loki kept worming his way between the other dogs’ bodies so he could sidle up and lick my hand.

Jackie scratched her head as I tried, for the third time, to get my hand to the handle of the car door. “You put something extra in those injections of yours?”

“I guess I just have the magic touch.”

“Guess you do.” Jackie pushed the dogs off, allowing me to get into the car. “Leave her alone, boys, leave her alone! What are you trying to do, ride on home with her? I can’t have all my boys leaving me for Abra, now.”

Wincing a little, I lowered my window so I could say good-bye to Jackie. “We should meet up at Moondoggie’s for dinner this week. I know Red would love to see you.”

“Storm might be coming, but we’ll see. Thanks for coming all the way out here,” said Jackie, fishing a cigarette out of her pack and lighting it. As I drove slowly away down the icy drive, I caught her reflection in the rearview mirror, dragging on the Marlboro as if she’d been postponing this smoke for a long time. She looked off into the shadowy woods, searching for Pia. Who seemed to think I was standing in the way of her winning Malachy’s affection.

I sighed, suddenly bone-tired. Somehow, Jackie must have inadvertently convinced her daughter that I was some kind of man-eater. And in a way, I supposed I was to her what Magda was to me. But I hadn’t actually broken Red and Jackie up, and Magda was a crazy bitch. Still, I wished Jackie could find another man’s photograph for her trailer wall.

As I backed into my parking space outside the animal clinic, I wondered if I should convince Jackie to come with me to a day spa one of these days. She couldn’t be much more than thirty-eight, and there was really no reason for her to live alone with the dogs. She just needed a little fashion advice, a lot of moisturizer, and a good haircut, none of which were available in Northside.

As for Pia, it suddenly struck me that the other dogs hadn’t greeted her as a submissive, and that she hadn’t spoken to them as one. She was shy around Malachy and me, but maybe there was another side to Pia.

People thought wolves and dogs could be categorized as alphas, betas, or omegas, as leaders or followers. Some people even thought that was the way the human world worked. But the truth was more complex. Just as a woman could be a powerful manager at work and then a meek wife at home, or a man could be a tyrant at home and a milquetoast in the office, a wolf could be dominant in one pack, and submissive in another. Status was fairly fluid, and every wolf encounter was filled with nuance and negotiation.

I had just removed my key from the ignition when I heard a screech of tires as someone burned rubber pulling in beside me. I stepped out of my car, bracing for an animal emergency, and found myself face-to-face with Marlene. She was in acute distress, her face pale and wide-eyed, her coarse black hair still in curlers, and her pink chenille sweater stained with blood.

“You have to help Queenie! She’s bleeding!”

I raced to the back of Marlene’s cherry red pickup truck where I saw exactly what I’d been dreading: Queenie, staining a white towel scarlet.

I didn’t worry about losing control of my temper; with a patient bleeding out in front of me, I snapped into professional mode. “Take the other end of the towel,” I ordered Marlene, who had come up beside me and was staring, horrified, at Queenie. “On my count: one, two, three, now.” As we lifted her I had a moment to think, I wish to hell Pia hadn’t gone home. Then we were at the clinic steps, and I snapped, “Door, somebody get the door,” but Malachy was already there, holding it open.

“Christ, let’s get her into the operating room,” he said, and I bit back a retort—where did he think I was going, anyway? Marlene’s stringy arms were shaking as we lifted Queenie onto the table.

“I’ll prepare the surgical tray,” Mal said, brushing Marlene aside as he examined Queenie. “Scrub up, Abra.” I was about to ask him why he didn’t want to operate himself, but then I glanced over and saw my boss palm a pill from his pocket.

Marlene walked over to the sink as I put on an operating gown, her face old and oddly masculine without makeup. Her eyes did not meet mine. “Is she going to be all right?”

“I don’t know,” I said, scrubbing my nails, then shutting the faucet with my forearm. “But if she dies, we know who’s to blame, don’t we?”

“I asked you to take care of it! This is your fault! You think you were being responsible? Those weren’t puppies, they were little monsters waiting to come out!”

I was dimly aware of my boss pushing Marlene out, murmuring something about waiting out in the other room, and I could feel Malachy watching me, but it didn’t matter. All my attention was on Queenie now, and making sure she didn’t lose her life along with her puppies.