Wolf Haven. Lindsay McKenna

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СКАЧАТЬ part of Wyoming. To the east rose the jagged, tooth-shaped Teton Mountains, their slopes glazed with white snow.

      Because he’d been a SEAL for seven years, he was alert and watchful. Iris, the owner of the Elk Horn Ranch, had been excited about a woman named Skylar Pascal, who was coming to interview for a job. It wasn’t just any job, either. Gray wasn’t sure he wanted to work with a woman at the wildlife center. He’d been hired a year ago because his mother, Isabel McCoy, was a noted wolf biologist and wildlife expert. Iris had wanted to create a one-hundred-acre wildlife preserve on the Elk Horn for their dude-ranch families who came every year for a vacation.

      Further, Iris, who always had an eye on saving the planet, wanted part of the refuge for timber wolves and to bring them back to the States. His mother had told him about this job, and Iris had hired him on the spot.

      The green grass beneath his cowboy boots was thick with dew as he slowed. Across the dirt road stood the log cabin. He watched with a little more interest as a woman dressed in a tasteful, coffee-brown pantsuit with a white blouse emerged from the SUV. His eyes narrowed speculatively as he absorbed her.

      Being a SEAL, he had the ability to see all the details, which was always important. She was young, mid-twenties, with long, beautiful, ginger-brown hair that swung gently around her shoulders. The way she squared them, the way she walked, made Gray think she had a military background. Military people walked a certain way: shoulders back and proud, a straight spine, the chin slightly tilted upward. This woman was probably around five foot ten or so. Long, lean and damned graceful. She had a white leather purse she pulled over her left shoulder. Another sign of being in the military. Gray smiled to himself. It left the right arm free to salute with, and women in the military always carried their purses on their left shoulder as a result.

      He didn’t want to be swayed, but when she lifted her chin and looked around—looked at him—his heart unexpectedly thumped once. It was a crazy reaction and surprising to Gray. He had been emotionally numbed out for a long time...ever since Julia’s murder.

      Frowning, Gray slammed the door shut on his aching past. Instead, he zeroed in on the woman’s square face, her high cheekbones and wide-spaced blue eyes. Damn, she was good-looking as hell. A ten in his book. Yet his SEAL senses warned him that something wasn’t right about her. Nothing appeared out of place, but his finely honed intuition was never wrong. It had saved his life way too many times to count over in Afghanistan when he was with SEAL Team 3.

      Not close enough to really dig into her eyes to ferret out what he sensed, Gray saw her mouth was full. Even lush. Brushed with pink lipstick. Her cheekbones were high. He wondered if she had Native American blood in her. There was keen intelligence in Skylar’s eyes, and Gray applauded that. Iris wouldn’t hire someone for the wildlife center who didn’t have a lot on the ball. His heart stirred for the first time in two years. What was it about this woman that was making him feel once again?

      Gray rubbed his recently shaved chin. Skylar Pascal dressed conservatively. Even her footwear showed that. She wore no heels, just commonsense white leather shoes. Sunlight glinted off her plain gold earrings and a practical watch wrapped around her slender right wrist. He liked the way her hair glinted with red, brown and blond highlights as the early-morning sunlight slanted across the narrow valley. His fingers positively itched to tunnel through that shining, thick mass.

      Gray turned away, snorting to himself. He headed down the path toward the one-story redbrick building not far away. The sign above the two main double glass doors read: Elk Horn Wildlife Center. He’d helped lay those bricks to create the building as well as the sidewalk he traversed. Glad to have his black nylon goose-down jacket on, he saw his breath turn white in the freezing air. The sky was a light blue, cloudless, and he loved this quiet time of the day.

      His heart turned back to Skylar Pascal. Who was she? Iris had her résumé on her desk, but hadn’t offered it to him. She’d interviewed ten people so far, and none had met her criteria. Iris was in her seventies and knew what she wanted.

      She’d single-handedly built the Elk Horn into one of the most economically successful ranches in the valley. Iris was like a sweet, silver-haired grandmother to him. That nurturing exuded from her. Iris and her second husband, Timothy, along with her son, Rudd, and the rest of her family, ran the ranch.

      Halting, Gray partly turned to see Skylar Pascal disappearing inside the office door. He wondered obliquely how her interview would fare with Iris Mason.

      Iris had the skill of a SEAL when it came to ferreting out a person and looking behind their game face. That was one of the many things Gray liked about the woman. She saw far and deep into a person. She’d seen him, and he hadn’t tried to hide who and what he was. He’d been a wounded military contractor who had lost his wife to Russian mafia drug runners in Peru two years ago. He’d been flown home physically wounded and emotionally devastated by the experience. And when he’d interviewed with Iris, she’d seen him, warts and all. Every question she’d asked, Gray answered truthfully and without hesitation. Iris liked his honesty. And she’d hired him on the spot.

      Gray wondered what Iris would think of Skylar Pascal. She appeared elegant, beautiful and confident to him. But he knew from his twenty-nine years of living that looks were deceiving. Iris had a hunting-dog nose for people, for their foibles, their weaknesses and their strengths. She’d certainly dismantled him in a hurry during his interview. But Gray hadn’t been threatened by Iris or her questions. And he had been a SEAL where one’s honor, never telling a lie, worked in his favor during that two-hour interview with Iris.

      As he wandered toward the center, Gray found himself wishing that Skylar Pascal would pass the test. He didn’t know why. He really had wanted a male assistant, not a woman. But his desire was based upon a very brutal experience that would live with him until the day he died.

      Iris had been rather upbeat about this woman coming in for the interview. She was an R.N., and Iris wanted someone with that degree here at the ranch. He found it synchronistic Julia had been an R.N., too. Shrugging, he put it all out of his mind. He had no say in who Iris hired or fired. He was just grateful she’d hired him because in doing so, Iris had given him his life back whether she knew it or not.

      * * *

      “THANKS FOR COMING,” Iris said, gesturing for Skylar to sit down in front of her desk after shaking her hand. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

      Sky sat down, placing the purse in her lap. Her heart was beating so hard she wondered if the older woman could hear it. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

      “Just ate?” Iris asked, smiling briefly as she sat down.

      “Yes, ma’am, I did.” Well, it wasn’t a lie. Sky had had coffee and some toast. It was all her tense, tight stomach would hold. When she got nervous like this, if she ate too much, she’d get sick. Not what she wanted to happen this morning.

      Iris tilted her head and studied the woman. “Ma’am?” She tapped the résumé beneath her hand. “Must be your Navy training coming out?”

      “Yes, ma’am,” Sky murmured. She liked the maternal energy she felt around Iris Mason. The elder was about five feet five inches tall, with merry-looking blue eyes that missed nothing. Her silver hair was up in an askew knot on the top of her head. On the corner of the desk was a beat-up straw hat that she probably wore when outside.

      “You don’t need to call me ‘ma’am.’ Do you like to be called Skylar?”

      “Actually, if you don’t mind, most people call me Sky.”

      Iris nodded. “Pretty СКАЧАТЬ