scratches. Even a scratch or two couldn't have healed this quickly. It isn't possible. Could I have a cup of coffee now?"
For a moment, he looked as if he wouldn't drop the matter. He finally turned his attention to pouring the coffee, but she noticed that his hands shook.
"Are you feeling better?" she asked, noting that his eyes looked clear. Still, she was concerned about the shaking.
He shoved a coffee cup toward her. "I bounce back quickly."
Lifting the cup, Stephanie breathed in the scent before she took a sip. "What was wrong with you yesterday?"
Rick shrugged. "Twenty-four-hour bug, or maybe too many beers with the guys the night before."
"You should learn to dodge those silver bullets," she said, giving her eggs another stir.
His head turned toward her. "What?"
"Isn't there a brand of beer called a silver bullet?"
He ran a hand through his thick dark hair. "Oh, yeah,those silver bullets."
Something he'd said yesterday still bothered her. The words he'd spoken and the suffering she'd seen in his eyes. Stephanie moved the eggs from the fire and turned to him. "When you were ill, you asked me to kill you."
The cup he held stopped halfway to his mouth. His face flushed slightly. "You know how hangovers are. Sometimes you just want to be put out of your misery."
She couldn't so easily dismiss his plea, whether he was out of his head with fever or not. "I've never seen anyone react that way to alcohol. Food poisoning has been known to bring on fever and chills, but?"
"That was probably the culprit," he interrupted. "I tend to eat my meat too raw."
Stephanie shuddered. "You shouldn't eat meat at all. I'm a vegetarian."
For some reason, he found her declaration funny. When he laughed, she noticed how straight and white his teeth were.
"You find that amusing?" she asked.
Still smiling, he said, "A vegetarian veterinarian. Try saying that three times fast."
She laughed, too, breaking a little of the tension. The smell of cooked eggs made her stomach rumble. She felt starved but didn't want to eat in front of him. That left only one alternative. "Would you care for breakfast?"
His smile faded. "I don't think that would be a good idea. You know what they say? Feed a stray and it'll just keep hanging around."
Stephanie thought it would be best if he didn't hang around. She had trouble keeping her eyes off him. Although he claimed to feel better, she thought he looked tired. Which reminded her of why she felt exhausted.
"I had a late night visitor," she said.
A dark brow rose.
"A wolf," she continued. "It was very strange. I woke up and he was inside my tent, staring at me."
The cup in his hand shook again. He set it down. "Are you sure you weren't dreaming? Wolves don't usually?"
"I know," she interrupted. "They usually avoid people. But I wasn't dreaming, and I could have sworn it was the same wolf the hunters had wounded. But when I followed him outside, I noticed he wasn't limping, showed no sign of injury at all, so it couldn't have been the same animal."
"You should leave," he said. "It could be dangerous here for you."
She dug in her pack and removed a tin plate. "For me, or for the hunters if I decide to turn them in to the authorities?"
Rising, he stretched his long legs. "Don't get between the farmers and the wolves. Mostly, they're just good old boys looking out for their own interests."
While scooping eggs onto her plate, she muttered, "What are they going to do? Shoot me?"
"Not on purpose, but these men are farmers, not expert marksmen. You don't want to get caught in the middle."
Stephanie glanced up at him, suspicion causing her gaze to narrow. "That's what this visit is about, isn't it? You came to scare me off?"
"I came to talk some sense into you," he corrected. "What's going on here isn't any of your business."
She set her plate aside and rose, meeting him on his level. "Wolves are being illegally hunted and that's none of my business? I'm making it my business, and I'm also calling the Fish and Wildlife Service on your crooked sheriff and his hillbilly friends. What do you think of that?"
"I think you're poking your nose into something dangerous," he shot back. "The farmers are good men, and the sheriff is a good man, too. He's protecting the community. Today the wolves are only killing sheep. Tomorrow it may be a child who's wandered too far into the woods, or