Silver, Montana

Chapter 4: Dogs or wolves?

As soon as she got up, Emily went to check the trapdoor. It was unlocked. The lock was simple, opening with a key on both sides. She smiled; her father had insisted on teaching her numerous strange things, and lock picking was one of them. She remembered him saying:

“If I hadn’t known how to do that, with your mother’s talent for locking herself out of the house, we would be ruined by now!”

All she had to do was to take her picks out of the toolbox of the car, and she could have a peek at the wolves the following night.

It was already eight A.M. and she decided it was time for breakfast. She dressed quickly and stepped out of her room. The house was silent, nothing seemed out of place.

Getting off the ladder, she went to the range and added some wood, then took a small pot that she filled with milk and porridge flakes. She was a disastrous cook, the one skill she could never master, to her mother’s despair, but porridge was within her reach. She felt a bit embarrassed to help herself in other people’s house, but she was famished. They seemed quite laid back, so she hoped they wouldn’t mind.

She was transferring the thick paste into a bowl when Sophie emerged from a door at the back of the living room, in a lovely pink nightgown.

“Good morning Emily, already up?” she said, holding back a yawn.

“Sorry Sophie, did I wake you up? The wolves were quite noisy last night, you must be tired. I hope you don’t mind me making my breakfast, I just wanted to let you sleep.”

“Please make yourself at home dear. But what are you talking about? There were no wolves last night, you must have been dreaming.”

Emily frowned, confused.

“I could swear I heard Owen get up and go out though. And I heard the howling, it was loud and close.”

“I can assure you that my husband didn’t leave my side until this morning. You must have had a nightmare. Or maybe you heard a bear, they sometimes wander close to the houses looking for easy food, which is why we avoid being out after nightfall.”

Emily stared at Sophie, wondering whether she was lying to her. Could she have actually dreamt the whole thing? She was very tired and had spent the day chasing after wolves; it was well possible that her brain had turned it into a dream. There was only one way to know: she had to go outside and look for footprints.

Suddenly, Sophie’s knees seemed to buckle under her, and Emily rushed to her help.

She was so pale!

“Are you all right? You look sick!”

“I’ll be fine in a minute, I’m just feeling faint at the moment, but that’s to be expected,” Sophie muttered, dropping on a chair.

“What do you mean? Are you pregnant?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure yet…”

“Well, congratulations!”

“It might be premature, but thanks anyway,” Sophie smiled, “don’t worry for me, just go, I’ll be ok. I’ll call for Owen if I’m not.”

“Don’t hesitate if you need me, I’ll be around.”

Emily grabbed her coat and left, closing the door carefully behind her. Outside, the sky was still heavily clouded, annunciating of more snowfalls for the day. No trip to the mountain to find more packs then, she would have to keep busy locally, starting with exploring the community, locating the wolves on maps and gathering more information about them.

Between the cabins, the snow had been swept. No matter how hard she watched, she couldn’t find any incriminating prints.

She walked slowly to her car, still hoping to see even one track that would prove the wolves’ presence at night, but ended up empty handed. Until she reached her Jeep: around the car was a line of paw-prints, wolf-size. Emily crouched down, triumphant, at least until she got hit and thrown down by a gigantic white hairball. The animal barked joyously and licked her face.