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.
“Down, Snowflake!” yelled Kieran’s voice.
The dog moved back, allowing her to stand.
“I see you’ve met Snowflake, our Pyrenean Mountain mastiff,” he said, grinning ear to ear.
Brushing her clothes, Emily retorted:
“I can’t believe the name you gave to this monster. How much does she weigh?”
“A hundred and thirty pounds, give or take. These dogs can take on a wolf or a bear, she protects our livestock with her brother.”
Emily stared at the snow: new marks had appeared, identical to the others. She sighed, defeated; giant dog’s print, that’s all it was.
“You didn’t hear any howling last night?”
“Not that I remember, but I sleep like a log. Did you?”
“I thought I did, but now I’m doubting it. Anyway, I’d better start working. Care to give me a tour of the place?”
“As soon as I’ll have had my coffee. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with me today, I’m assigned to be your guardian angel. Owen and the others will be busy elsewhere.”
“Go ahead then, I’ll meet you.”
Emily waited until Kieran was out of sight, and then retrieved what she needed from the car.
The rest of the morning was spent visiting the village, walking around the lake to see the small water-powered power plant, fed by a cascade, and admiring a silver nugget from the mine.
“The site is not of industrial proportion, but we produce enough to make a living. We carry the ore away for processing. ” Kieran informed her. She nodded in understanding. Extracting silver from the ore required a chemical process. They wanted to keep the valley intact.
At lunchtime they sat in his cabin again, savoring a trout filled with grilled hazelnuts and fresh fruits. The fish was delicious, and she complimented him.
“I fished it yesterday evening in the lake, nothing like local products.”
Coffee mug in hand, she stood in the living room while he pulled out the maps, reading the titles of the books on the shelves. He had all her favorites; she took one, “Behavioral issues in wolf packs”, a luxury edition.
“Got them!” he said, placing the rolls on the table.
She turned around, still holding the heavy volume.
“Do you like these?” she asked, curious.
“Let’s say I quite agree with them. Don’t you?”
“They are my bible, I’ve read them a thousand times. That guy is my god. But how did you get these ones, they are limited edition.”
“Well, I might know your god…”
“Then why are they not signed? Ooh…”
Her eyes had just caught the author’s name: K.M.L. Wulver. Could it be?
“Is Kieran McLean your full name?”
He lifted his hands in surrender.
“Actually, it’s Kieran MacLean-Wulver. I don’t use my full last name too often, I like my privacy.”
Emily felt stupid. She had made a fool of herself in front of one of the world’s best wolf expert.
“Did Bob know?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“I’m afraid so, why do you think he called me. I guess he just wanted to surprise you.”
“If he did, that’s a success. I must have sounded like a preposterous idiot yesterday.”
“No you didn’t. You know your job, and you stand up for yourself, that’s fine by me. And I quite liked carrying you…” he added with a wink.
She blushed.
“Oh, I completely forgot, I have to call Bob, he is going to freak out. My phone didn’t work, could I borrow yours?”
“You could, but Bob isn’t worried, I sent him an email yesterday.”
“You have internet?”
She had assumed they hadn’t, seeing no televisions and very few electrical appliances.
“We do, in the school. You can use it whenever you want.”
“Thanks. Shall we start working then?”
Kieran showed her the location of the packs on the detailed maps of the surrounding mountains, and they spent the remaining of the afternoon talking, comfortably installed in the sofa.