a vehicle?"
Rick nodded. "I have a truck, but it's not running at the moment. I haven't had time to work on it. I thought I should speak to the sheriff about what we discussed."
"I planned on shopping. I need more film and a few other items."
The pretty wildlife photographer felt uncomfortable with him. That was obvious. Rick couldn't blame her. He shouldn't have made that crack. But it had been the truth. He would savor her. Every inch of her. "I'll go another time."
Stephanie started to turn away, stopped, and sighed. "You should speak to the sheriff as soon as possible. I would do it myself, but he'd probably listen to you before he would a stranger. I'll get my Jeep and come back for you." She looked him up and down, then grinned. "You are going to change that shirt, right? In case you haven't noticed, the buttons are missing."
He grinned back. "Any other instructions?"
She cocked her head to the side and studied him. "A haircut wouldn't hurt," she said, then turned and walked away.
He watched her walk down the steps and toward the trees, still smiling to himself over her instructions. They sounded so ordinary. Like something a woman would say to a normal flesh-and-blood man. Like something a wife might say to her husband.
His smile faded. He was not ordinary. And she should never become too comfortable in his company. Wild animals couldn't be trusted. They turned on people.
Part 3 Chapter Five
Stephanie had wondered what type of reception she'd get from the townspeople. It was a chilly one at best. The cafe looked like something out of a black-and-white movie. Even the people inside appeared as if they'd stepped from the screen of an oldTwilight Zone episode. The waitress still wore her hair in beehive fashion. Her name was Betty, and she nearly melted on the spot when she caught sight of Rick, but frosted up when she realized he wasn't alone.
"So what will you have, miss?" she asked, without looking at Stephanie and drooling over Rick.
"What's good?" Stephanie asked.
"The lamb chops are always fresh."
With a shudder, Stephanie studied the menu again. "I'll have a salad."
Betty's gaze finally swung toward her. She snorted. "Figures." She turned a stunning smile on Rick. "No wonder she doesn't have any meat on her bones."
He smiled back. "Miss Shane doesn't eat meat. She's a vegetarian."
The waitress lifted a brow, snorted again, then asked, "Will you have your usual?"
"Burger and fries. You know me. I'm a meat and potatoes man."
"Rare?" Betty asked.
"The redder the better," he answered.
Stephanie's stomach rolled. She didn't know if it was due to the bloody meat reference or a result of the way Betty kept eyeballing Rick. It shouldn't have surprised her. He was a handsome single man in a town where probably few could be found. She imagined he could have his pick of the single women. Maybe even the married ones. The waitress took their menus and sashayed off, her ample hips swinging.
"Why is everyone staring at me?" Stephanie asked through tight lips.
Rick glanced around. "They're just curious. We don't get many strangers here." His gaze swung back to her. "I'm curious, too. Tell me about yourself."
Stephanie wasn't comfortable discussing her past with anyone, much less a man she didn't know. She shrugged. "Not much to tell."
"Why aren't you married?"
"Why aren't you?" she countered.
He smiled, and she tried not to melt. "Never got around to it. I used to travel a lot."
"You said used to. Don't you enjoy traveling?"
Rick tugged at his shirt collar and shifted against his seat. "No. I've become a homebody of sorts."
"I love to travel," Stephanie admitted. "It's one of the things I like most about my job. That and being outdoors."
"And the animals," he added. "You do like animals, don't you?"
She laughed. "Of course I like animals. I'm naturally suspicious of anyone who doesn't."
"And you like wolves in particular?"
His line of questioning seemed strange to her. "Yes," she answered. "Wolves in particular."
Lifting a salt shaker to examine, he continued, "Why wolves in particular?"
Stephanie had never given her attraction to the species much thought. "I suppose because they're beautiful. And they have values. The pack is like a family. They love and protect one another."
"What about your family?"
He'd hit upon a sore subject. It had been three years since her father's death, and she still felt an empty place inside. "My parents were in a car accident. My mother was killed instantly. Dad held on for another year, but he was in