“I understand. Any animal can be dangerous, though, even a house cat.”
“So true.”
He smoothed his hand over the wolf ’s head. “Poor old man,” he said gently. “I’m sorry to belong to a species that could do something so terrible to an animal.”
The wolf opened one eye and looked at him, almost as if it understood him.
“I’ll get you well and you can go home,” he added. “Just rest now. The vet’s coming over soon to see about you,” he added, having called the vet as they walked into the shed room.
“He’s so beautiful,” Esther said as Butch closed the cage. “They’re losing habitat so fast. Animals have no place to go. Civilization is making them extinct.”
“Pretty much,” Butch had to agree.
“What else do you have in here?” she wondered.
“Come and see.”
She paused by the injured fox and winced. She was wearing a fox coat, although it was blue and this beautiful animal was red and white.
Butch bent down to her ear. “It’s a dead fox. What you’re wearing,” he pointed out.
“Oh.” She smiled shyly. “How did you know I was thinking that?”
“I’m taking a mail-order course in how to read minds,” he teased.
She chuckled. “Okay.” She moved with him to the other cages. One of them held a strange animal. She’d never seen one like it. “What is this one?” she asked.
“A badger,” he replied. “Don’t get too close. They can be aggressive.”
“So can wolves,” she returned.
“Yes.”
She turned to Butch. “What you do, it’s awesome,” she said. “All these poor creatures would be dead if it wasn’t for you.”
He felt warm all over. She made him feel different. Useful. Better than he thought he was. “If I hadn’t done it, somebody else would have,” he began.
“Yes. But nobody else did. You did.” She smiled.
He drew in a breath. “You really are a boost for my ego,” he mused. “I won’t be able to get my head through the door.”
She laughed.
“We should go,” he added. He adjusted the thermostat in the building, which controlled the gas heat, and shepherded her out the door and back into the cabin.
* * *
They had mashed potatoes and a small piece of cube steak for supper, with fruit for dessert. Butch had cooked. Esther peeled the potatoes.
“I peeled them too much,” she said sadly.
“You did fine,” he replied. “Especially for somebody who’s never set foot in a kitchen before,” he added with a grin.
“Thanks. I’ll get better. I just need a cookbook and some practice.”
“The cook at the Gray Dove is awesome,” he pointed out. “I’ll bet she’d be happy to give you some pointers if you just ask her.”
“What a great idea! I’ll do that.”
“You might also mention that we’re engaged,” he added, because he knew the cook, and she was very conservative.
He was very protective already. She liked that. She smiled to herself.
He saw the smile. “What?” he asked.
She looked up, eyebrows arching.
“You smiled when I said that,” he told her.
“Oh.” She flushed. “It sounded, well, protective.” She shifted. “I’ve never had anybody who tried to protect me. Mama was always looking for the right man. I know she loved me, but I was sort of an afterthought. And she didn’t like having a grown daughter. She went to spas, had face-lifts, all those things really beautiful women do to try and look younger than they are.” Her face was bland. She looked up at him. “What use is it?” she asked solemnly. “I mean, you may look younger, but it won’t change how old you are, will it? And if you have to do so much work on yourself to deny how old you are, who’s going to know or want the person you really are?” She made a face. “I’m making it all muddled . . .”
“You aren’t,” he replied, and he was serious as well. “I know exactly what you mean. My former fiancée was like that,” he added bitterly. “She was always using creams and lotions and dyeing her hair, wearing clothes that were too young for her. She couldn’t stand the thought of a new gray hair or a wrinkle in her face.”
“That’s just sad.”
“It is.” He studied her. He smiled. “You really are a knockout.”
She flushed. “That’s all on the outside,” she said.
“I like what’s on the inside even better,” he returned softly.
The flush deepened.
His eyes were probing. “Haven’t you ever had a boyfriend?”
She laughed softly. “They couldn’t get past Mama,” she said. “She was so beautiful . . .” She