for that.” She caught herself and gave him a worried glance.
“Can you talk about what happened?” he asked.
She hugged the wolf and lowered her eyes. “My mother . . . died tonight.”
“Good God! Where?”
“Back in”—she hesitated—“where we were staying. Her boyfriend wants all her things. He was drunk. She was all broken up and there was blood everywhere. She told me to run. I didn’t think, I just ran!”
He saw a panorama that was disturbing, and this fragile little thing right in the middle of it. “You’re afraid of him. The boyfriend.”
“Terrified.” She drew in a short, sharp breath. “If they find me, they’ll make me testify. If I testify, he’ll kill me. He has friends in organized crime. He made threats to my poor mother.” She closed her eyes and shivered.
“You should go to the police,” he said.
“He has a friend in the local department,” she replied. “The mob pays him.”
“I see.” He frowned. “How did your mother die?”
“He threw her down the staircase.” She looked at her lap. “I think it broke her spine. Her throat was cut from hitting something on the way down. She only lived a few seconds . . . after . . .”
“Dear God!”
He got up and went to the sofa beside her, pulling her against him with one strong arm. He smelled of soap and aftershave. He was very strong, and warm, and she was aching for comfort. She curled close to him and cried her heart out.
He’d never felt needed in his whole life, not by anybody. And here this beautiful stranger came walking in out of the snow and made him feel ten feet tall with her fragility, her vulnerability.
She drew back after a minute. “I’m sorry, it’s just that there’s so much . . . !”
He smoothed her hair. “Don’t worry about it.” He got up. “Come on. This isn’t a five-star hotel, but it’s got two bedrooms and you’re welcome to one of them. The door even locks,” he added with a grin.
She smiled. She trusted him implicitly, without even knowing him. “Tomorrow, I’ll find someplace to go and see about getting a job.”
“What sort of job?” he asked.
She flushed. She’d never worked a day in her young life. But she was strong and she could learn. “Whatever there is,” she said finally, and smiled at him.
He admired her spirit. “I’ll see if I can help,” he said. “But you can stay here for the time being. I’m out a lot. I work for the wildlife service. In my spare time, I’m a rehabilitator.”
“Oh, I see! Two-Toes,” she began.
“Yes. Two-Toes and other assorted mammals, including a fox. The others live in the outbuilding. It’s heated, sort of, and at least sheltered. Two-Toes, though, he’s company.” He stopped suddenly, close to admitting how lonely he was. He’d been engaged, but when she found out he’d lost his arm, she’d broken the engagement. His parents were long dead. He had nobody, unless you counted his friend, Parker.
“I like animals,” she said.
“We noticed,” he chuckled, indicating Two-Toes, who was following her.
“He’s sweet,” she said softly, rubbing her hand over his thick fur.
“Yes, he is. Now if you’d had a big bologna sandwich for lunch . . .” His voice trailed off with amusement.
She just laughed. “You wouldn’t eat me, even then, would you, sweet boy?”
The wolf sat down and his tongue lolled out while she petted him.
Butch just shook his head.
* * *
The bedroom had a bed, a chest of drawers, and assorted guns.
He made a face. “I guess you hate guns . . .”
“I don’t mind them,” she said, smiling.
Both eyebrows went up.
“My dad used to take me to the gun range with him, when he was alive. He was a Class A skeet shooter.”
He was fascinated. “Can you shoot a shotgun?”
“Just the lightest gauge, the 28,” she replied.
“Just,” he said, shaking his head. He’d never met a woman who’d even pick up a shotgun, much less risk the noise and recoil of shooting one.
She was looking around the room.
“It’s just a spare room,” he said. “I had the bed put in because once in a while, somebody comes from one of the agencies and needs a place to stay. But it’s not often. It’s messy in here,” he added.
“I don’t mind clutter,” she said softly.
“You don’t even have a change of clothes,” he mused.
“I left in a hurry.” Tears stung her eyes.
“Do you want to call anybody?”
“There’s nobody to call,” she said miserably. “It was just Mama and me.