TWENTY-SIX
LANIE
Waterfalls, Vales, and Dire Wolf Tails
“Shift. You’re heading for that top corner of the rock. There.” Cord points out the route he wants me to take. “Nice and slow, but at a steady speed. The truck is going to walk over it one wheel at a time.”
I eyeball the granite boulder, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth. The events of the morning still swirl in my brain, obliterating his instructions. Cord leans across to press a tender kiss on my cheek, wiping my mind of any lingering remnants.
“Okay, so what do I do?” I ask, dazed.
Cord laughs, talking me through the whole process again. Thankfully he has endless patience, despite this being his idea. I put the truck into gear and go. Our progress is based on technology, his prodding, and no small degree of faith.
The six-wheeler wanders over the rock just like he says and drops gently onto the other side.
Cord grunts, gripping the door handle fiercely. I find flat ground and pull up.
“Oh, God. Cord, did I hurt you? I am so sorry. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
He holds up a hand, wheezing, though he still grips his side. “You did amazing, babe. I’m not sure I could have done that well.”
“But I still hurt you,” I worry, tugging at his wrist.
“Stop,” he murmurs, using my distraction to kiss me again until Idostop and kiss him back. “Now, out.”
Cord grabs the drones from the back of the truck. I had an inkling of what he was up to when we left, but I’m still not sure of his end goal as he sets up the picnic blanket and collection of bags, refusing my help.
“Send it out that way,” he directs, flapping out our reliable, if slightly tattered, cardboard landing pad. “And over, one more ridge…”
“Is that—” I stare at the screen, my mouth hanging open.
Wolf-shaped heat signatures mill around a hollow. Several more sit at the top of a ridge. I count them. Correction: I try to count them, but they keep moving. And there’s a lot. More than I ever hoped to find in one location.
“My pack,” Cord says, his voice filled with pride. “Twenty-three, all accounted for. And I think they might have selected a site for a den.”
I gape at him. “How did you know they were there?”
“West came out on his own. He took this remote and I had a second screen on my lap while you were asleep. I made him scour the mountains for my wolves. I believe Winnie even came out to check he didn’t screw up.” Cord smirks, apparently impressed with his covert, nighttime matchmaking activities.
“I owe West so much.” I try to count the favors I owe Cord’s foreman and best friend, and I run out of fingers.
“Don’t let him hear you say that. And what about me?” He nudges my shoulder.
“Thank you,” I whisper, studying the wolves a little longer. The older wolves circle the site, nudging at last year’s juveniles. One elder even attempts to pick a juvenile up by the scruff of its neck to relocate it toward the rendezvous site where some of the others gather. I nearly drop the binoculars in a dual shot ofpanic/excitement. “They’re mirroring the behaviors of the Alexander Archipelago wolves,” I breathe.
“Really?” Cord doesn’t so much as move beside me.
I raise my head after studying the new pack for a long moment as a thought hits me. A Cordell Rand–level thought. “Cord, did you um,relocatemy wolves for me, by any chance? Because, as handy as that would be, it would kind of, you know, um?—”
“Ruin your research?” Cord raises an eyebrow and reaches out to stroke my cheek with knuckles that are more scarred now than ever after his most recent accident. “I get that, Lanie. And sure, I thought about it. Because I’d do anything to bring you back here, to Coyote land. To me,” he says simply, while my heart pauses in my chest, torn between loving him too hard and delving deep into panic. “But I won’t mess with your research. West found real Coyote Falls wolves for you. If these ones do anything wacky, then they just happen to match the rancher who sleeps out here on occasion. And his foreman,” he adds.
“All right,” I whisper, choosing to believe him. The wolves will keep. I let out a shuddering breath, knowing there is more. “What else is bugging you?”
“I can’t keep secrets from you,” he grumbles, scraping a hand over his hair that’s started to grow out a little longer on the top since his last operation.
He’s more handsome than ever with everything slightly out of place, a little extra out of his control. And Cord relaxes a fraction more each day.
“Probably not,” I agree.
