TO CATCH A WOLF By Susan Krinard

He pushed her away. “I warned you before, Caitlin. Don’t… try to stop me.”

She thought of the pistol at the end of the bed, and of how far she’d be willing to go to protect him and the others she loved. Uly hadn’t been able to shoot Tamar. Could she so much as threaten Niall? Would he believe such a threat?

Simple persuasion, even of the sexual variety, would not work on him now. And that left but one option.

“If I don’t try to stop you,” she said, “then I am coming with you.”

“No.” The word was instant, sharp, and lucid. “I don’t want you involved in what I must do.”

“But I am involved. And there is nothing you can do to change that.” She gripped his arm, compelling him to look at her. “You have suffered a blow to the head. What if you fall unconscious again? What if you cannot drive or ride? You would be foolish to go alone.” She smiled grimly. “And even if you keep me from accompanying you, I will follow.”

He stared at her, weighing her words. Would he dismiss her, as he would most anyone who made a similar promise… or would he realize she meant exactly what she said?

“You damned, stubborn wench. You would get yourself killed.” He gathered his weight onto his feet and tried to stand. His body tilted dangerously. “I can’t stop you… now. But you will do as I say and not interfere. Do you hear me?” He grabbed her shoulders, pressing a little too heavily. “Do you, Caitlin Hughes?”

“I hear you.” But do not ask me to promise anything. Do not ask me to choose between you and my dearest friends.

“Then—” He gritted his teeth. “Help me dress. We must go.”

How he hated asking for her help. Meekly she collected his clothing and assisted him with the lightest touch possible, as if she were a servant and not a lover who had seen his every vulnerability. When they were both bundled up and Niall had collected two saddlebags’ worth of provisions, he led her out to the barn and met one of the ranch hands walking hurriedly toward the house.

“Mr. Munroe,” the man said, taken aback. He shot a glance at Caitlin. “I was just comin’ to find you. Them circus folk—they stole one of the buggies. Chuck says they must a’ left a few hours before sunset last night.”

Niall swore. “No one stopped them?”

“Some of their friends played a trick to get us away. Said they’d seen a wolf after the cattle, so we all went out…” He ducked his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munroe.”

Niall swung on Caitlin. “Did you know about this?”

“Yes. Harry and Ulysses were worried about Morgan, as I was.”

“The old man and the midget? Even with the night’s travel, they can’t be that far ahead.” Niall turned back to the ranch hand. “Saddle two of the fastest horses, and do it quickly.”

The man hastened to obey. Soon he was leading out two horses, both fine mounts to Caitlin’s experienced eye. Before Niall or the hand could offer help, she leaped onto the smaller horse’s back and caught up the reins. Niall followed, gingerly, wincing at the pain in his skull.

He would not want her solicitude now. All she could hope was that she had some small influence upon him when the time came to face the battle that lay ahead.

Chapter 22

Dawn crept into the cave on velvet feet, so soft that neither human eyes nor ears could detect it.

Athena heard. She kept her eyes squeezed shut and begged the light to retreat, to let night come again. Endless night, untroubled by future or past. A night made only for loving and being loved.

Morgan’s chest rose and fell beneath her cheek, and his arm held its protective curve about her waist, loose but undeniably possessive.

As merciless as the passing of time, the light teased its way beneath her lids. She opened them slowly. Her first sight was of Morgan’s broad chest, the fine, dark mantle of hair, the slope of his hard belly. She checked herself before her gazed strayed lower.