To Catch a Wolf (28 page)

to admit a visitor when she was absent. "Who might that be?”

"Mr. Munroe. He arrived only a moment ago, and is waiting in the parlor.”

Fear and excitement swallowed up Cecily's irritation. Niall had returned early, and might

already know that

Athena was gone—but Cecily was prepared for that very contingency.

"Very well, Parton. Please inform him that I will be with him directly." She hastened up

the stairs to her room and made the necessary adjustments to hair and clothing,

rehearsing her story as she did so.

She was quite clear-headed when she entered the parlor. Niall was on his feet, but he

did not look particularly upset. Cecily released her breath and put on a look of grave

concern.

"Mr. Munroe! I am so glad you have returned.”

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He swung about to face her, and his neutral expression changed into a frown. "Miss

Hockensmith? What is the matter?”

So. He could not have been home, or he would know. The servants would have told him

at once. "Have you come directly from the station?" she asked, urging him to sit.

"Yes. I will not be in Denver long. I came only to ask—" His frown deepened. "Why? Is it

Athena?”

"Oh, dear. I had so hoped to reach your hotel before you left Chicago, but the telegraph

must not have been delivered. Naturally, as soon as I learned—”

"Learned what? Where is Athena?”

"She has gone to the ranch." There. If he admired directness, he would appreciate hers

more than ever now. "It is all my fault. Things had been going so well—Athena seemed

quite settled and I was helping her with the ball. Then, three days ago, she made some

remark about wishing to visit her friends from the circus, in spite of your instructions to

the contrary.”

"She has gone to the ranch?" Niall repeated, as if he did not quite believe it. "How?”

Cecily composed her face into a mask of contrition and embarrassment. "I

I fear that

she has hired some conveyance to take her there. She did not notify me or the

servants—I only learned of this yesterday when your butler sent a message to inform

me of her absence and the note she had left." That, at least, was very close to the truth.

She had played ignorant with the servants as well.

"I was so very sure I had talked her out of such an intemperate scheme," she continued.

"I used every method of persuasion, you can be sure. It simply did not occur to me that I

should mistrust her when she said she felt overtired and preferred to spend the next few

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days in seclusion. She seems so fragile, and she has been working so hard that I feared

for her health. I even offered to send the doctor, but she refused. Apparently she lied to

her maid about where she was going." She lifted her gaze in earnest appeal. "Oh, Mr.

Munroe. I pray you can forgive me my terrible mistake.”

Her gamble paid off. If Niall had been prepared to blame her for dereliction, her stream

of explanations and apologies had taken the first edge off his anger.

"No," he said. "It is not your fault, Miss Hockensmith. I should not have expected you to

succeed where I have failed." He strode to the window and twitched back the curtains. "I

should have anticipated this all along. My sister has changed greatly in the past few

months, and I have refused to see it. She has become adept at deceit and

manipulation.”

"But surely you are being too harsh—”

"There is no need for you to lessen the blow," he said. He turned back to her, all traces

of anger hidden by a mask as expert as hers. "We were both taken in by her apparent

innocence.”

Cecily rose. It was time to give him a few pushes in the right direction, and let him think

the solution was his all along. "Perhaps she has simply gone to look after the injured

girl.”

"You know that is not the reason. I may have been blind to the attraction before, but you

were right. She has developed an inappropriate liking for Holt, and that is the true

reason she has disobeyed me.”

Cecily dared to touch his arm in sympathy. "Whatever you may fear, Mr. Munroe, I am

certain that Athena is not lost to all common sense. She may be driven by feelings she

does not understand—so many young girls are—and her judgment is flawed. She has

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lived too sheltered a life in Denver, and at the same time she has a child's confidence in

her own invulnerability. When you bring her back, you will have a chance to set things

right again.”

"Set things right." A muscle in his jaw flexed. "I have not always listened to your advice

in the past, Miss Hockensmith, but now I see that I must take direct action. Athena has

grown to consider her position in Denver as unassailable. Her chair makes her safe

from all censure. She does not believe that anything can change her world, even a

flirtation with a scoundrel like Holt, and that is a conceit she cannot afford." He bent his

head. "I have let her have her own way too often, and yet I have tried to protect her by

keeping her close. Sending her away may be precisely what she requires.”

Cecily gave a silent crow of triumph. "Indeed. I cannot disagree with you, Mr. Munroe."

She hesitated for a calculated moment. "You did say that you have cousins in New

York. If I may be so bold—perhaps it might be best if you send her directly there rather

than bring her back to Denver. Any rumors will be extinguished quickly, and she will be

well out of reach of temptation. I will be able to complete preparations for the ball, so

Athena's efforts need not be undermined. I realize that it is very sudden—"

"No. Not at all." He met her gaze with grim approval. "I will leave for Long Park as soon

as possible—if the weather holds, on a good horse I can reach it by tomorrow morning. I

will begin making arrangements immediately for Athena's departure for New York." He

took her hand. "I know that I may continue to count on your help, Miss Hockensmith.”

"Always." She poured her heart into her eyes. "I will make inquiries of my own and be

ready when you call upon me.”

He lifted her hand as if he might kiss it. "You have been invaluable

Cecily. I will not

forget.”

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His use of her name was the crowning touch on her victory. "We understand each other

so well

Niall.”

He smiled, but his thoughts were clearly focused on his imminent journey. "I will take my

leave of you, for the time being." He strode into the hall and took his hat and coat from

the butler. "Good afternoon, Miss Hockensmith. I will send word when I have Athena in

my care.”

After he was gone, Cecily sank onto a chair and caught her breath. Her good fortune

had not only held, but doubled. Niall had already been prepared to think the worst of

Athena. No matter what his sister might say now, he wasn't likely to believe her.

And Athena wouldn't be coming back to Denver. One major obstacle removed with little

effort on Cecily's part—and the remaining impediments in her climb to the top of society

would fall, one by one, when the Winter Ball proved a grand success. All the snobbish,

insular doyennes of Denver would flock to her door once they realized just what Cecily

was capable of.

Especially after she became Mrs. Niall Munroe.

Cecily stretched out her legs, licked her lips, and began to count her wedding presents.

It had been a day like this one—crisp, cold, and ready with a gentle gift of new snow—

when Morgan had gone to the wolves and left the bitterness of his old life behind.

Once more he stood on such a threshold. Once more he considered casting off his

previous existence just as he shook the snowflakes from his fur. But this change was

not so easy.

This change was terrifying.

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He crossed the open meadow at a fast lope, paws striking the ground noiselessly as he

pursued the hare. Sharp air pierced the insides of his nostrils and whistled past his ears.

Scents were always more acute at this time of year, and he knew, as he passed, where

the bear had chosen her den, the bobcat had made his most recent kill, and the squirrel

had stored her winter provisions.

Windswept leaves and moist earth, the dry stalks of tender plants, and brittle twigs

brushed his pads and the short fur that fringed his feet. Most of the last week's snow

had melted, for the days were not yet cold enough to maintain it. But soon, the wind

promised. Soon, the pines whispered. Soon it will be winter again, and you must

choose.

The hare dodged abruptly to the left, hoping to evade its deadly pursuer. But Morgan

was more than wolf, just as he was more than man. He spun in midair and cut directly

across the hare's path. It skidded to a stop no more than a foot from his lowered head.

He could hear its stuttering heartbeat as it flattened to the ground and waited in silent,

terrified resignation.

Morgan touched the trembling body with the tips of his toes. Years ago, he would not

have paused as he did now. A wolf did not contemplate the feelings of his victims. He

thought of his empty belly and the hard winter ahead.

Sentimental fool. Morgan backed away, shaking his head in disgust. The hare remained

still. Morgan bared his teeth and snapped at the air. The hare leaped straight up and

was off before the mist of Morgan's breath ebbed away.

Was this inexplicable urge for mercy not proof? Proof that, even if he wished, he could

not go back to the wolves?

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He heard them often, singing in the mountains. They stayed away from the ranch, but

they were there. A new pack, one that would accept his presence just like the first. Until,

one by one, they were killed by men or driven deeper into the wilderness.

Driven. Instinct and need drove the wolf. The thing that drove Morgan was a far more

brutal master. It collared him with new memories and hopes, yanked and tugged him

again and again toward those who had claimed his loyalty. Toward the ranch, and to the

east and the city where

Athena Munroe lived out her life of rules, rank, and restrictions.

She would not come here. She would be a fool to do so, and Athena was no fool. Yet

each time Morgan ranged a little farther to the edge of the long park, gazed up at the

hills and dreamed of escape, he turned and went back.

Just as he did today.

The slow-witted cattle that browsed on the brittle grass blinked at him as he gave them

wide berth. Munroe's ranch hands, who answered to the foreman and seldom saw their

employer, were not even aware that a wolf roamed the park. Morgan was careful to

choose paths that concealed his tracks. The last thing he wanted was a pack of men up

in arms over the presence of a lone wolf among their precious livestock.

The afternoon sky had taken on the flat gray patina of imminent snowfall, darkened with

vertical drifts of smoke from the ranch's many chimneys. Morgan circled the outbuildings

and the two bunkhouses, one reserved for the ranch hands and one for the troupers. He

trotted out to the barn where the troupe's horses were stabled, nudged open the door,

and jumped up into the hayloft where he kept his clothing.

He dressed and walked among the horses, making note of their condition. They were

growing lazy and complacent here, just as he was.

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Still, he walked a little faster as he approached the main house with its imposing stone

exterior and sprawling, baronial magnificence. Long Park might run cattle, but at its

center was a mansion a foreign prince might envy. Niall Munroe was not one to accept

less than the best for himself or his sister. Athena would be as comfortable here as in

her own home on Fourteenth Street.

And there was always the chance, however small, that she had come.

He entered the house by a side door reserved for the servants and followed the narrow

hall to the ground floor guest rooms that had been reserved for Harry, Caitlin,

Ulysses, and a few of the others. Since Morgan slept in the barn, Harry and Ulysses

shared a room, while Caitlin had one to herself.

The door to Harry's room was open, releasing the smell of pipe smoke into the hall.

Caitlin's door also stood ajar.

"

can think of no reason why Harry writes so incessantly unless he hopes to effect a

particular response from Miss Munroe," Ulysses's voice said. "I know he is fond of the

young lady, but he has never been an admirable correspondent. I am bound to