SECRET OF THE WOLF By Susan Krinard

His past might still haunt him for a time, the memories Fenris had restored to him. He had become neither perfect nor incapable of guilt and regret. But now he would be able to deal with that past and accept it, just as he’d accepted Fenris.

Did he still need her? Was it too much to ask, that he should wish to remain with someone who reminded him so much of the obstacles he’d overcome?

Quentin had his own life to seek, a family waiting to embrace him, a nonhuman heritage to explore. She would not keep him from the future he chose.

But within her heart was a kernel of hope. They had shared so much. If only they could share the rest of their lives…

“It has been a long time,” Mrs. Ingram said. “Isn’t it strange, how things have come full circle, and yet that circle has led us to a better place.” She smiled at her daughter. “A wonderful place.”

“Indeed,” Johanna said. “It has been a long two days. Shall we go inside?”

Mrs. Daugherty hurried down the steps, Oscar trailing along beside her like an overgrown pup. “I was so worried, wonderin’ what you was all up to in the city!” She clucked her tongue. “You all look fit enough, but I hope you never do it again!”

“Believe me,” Quentin said, grabbing her work-roughened hand for a kiss, “I hope the same.”

“Oh, you.” She blushed and gave him a mock frown. “Doc Jo, your papa’s fine. He asked for you, and I said you’d be back soon.”

“Thank you,” Johanna said. “Thank you, Bridget. I don’t know what I would have done without your loyalty.”

“Go on.” She turned back to Quentin. “There’s a feller here to see you—been here since morning. I told him I didn’t rightly know when any of you’d be back, but he said he had to wait.” She smiled knowingly. “Said he’d come all the way from New Mexico Territory, tracking you down for your sister.”

“Rowena?” Quentin said, his face reflecting startled joy.

“That’s the name. He’s waitin’ in the parlor. Just about eaten us out of house and home, too. So the rest of you better come on in and get your supper!”

“Yes,” Johanna said, stepping aside. “Go in. Mrs. Ingram, please make yourself at home. I’ll join you directly.”

The others dutifully followed Oscar and Mrs. Daugherty up the stairs, leaving Quentin and Johanna alone.

“Rowena,” Quentin said. “I can’t believe it. Rowena found me here?”

“Your sister? I thought your family was in England.”

“She came to America shortly before I did, for reasons I’ll explain when I can. We kept in touch for a while, but then I—” He bowed his head. “She’s probably been sick with worry.”

“Then you must talk to this man immediately.” She pressed his hands. “And I must go to my father.”

“Yes.” He hardly seemed to see her, his thoughts centered on those he had known long before Johanna. “Yes.”

She went up the stairs ahead of him, her heart bursting with happiness for Quentin and a sorrow she couldn’t acknowledge.

Her father sat in his wheelchair in the parlor, gazing at the wall with a slight smile on his face. He blinked and turned his head to look at her as she entered the room.

“Johanna,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you, Papa.” She knelt before him and took his hands. “I missed you.”

“That’s my Valkyrie,” he said vaguely, touching her hair. “How is the new doctor working out?”

He meant Quentin, of course. He probably hadn’t even noticed that so many of the Haven’s residents had been gone. Johanna was grateful for that small favor.

“He may not be able to remain, Papa,” she said gently, playing along with his assumptions. “He’s been called to see to his own affairs in another part of the country.”

“A pity. I liked him very much. A personable, intelligent young man.”

So much like the old Wilhelm Schell. She rested her head on his knees. “Yes, Papa. I… liked him very much, also.”

“You are sure that you cannot persuade him to remain? Our work is so very important here.”