Breaking Free: A Colorado High Country Crossover Novel, Pamela Clare [i can read book club .TXT] 📗

He and Nate followed Deputy Marcs into the camp, the sound of the four-wheeler’s engine fading in the distance. But as they grew closer, they heard something else. Yapping. Whining. Whimpers.

Deputy Marcs stopped. “Jesus fried chicken! I think I know why this son of a bitch was poaching beef.”

There, locked in a large, covered dog kennel, was another wolf, but this one was a female. Close beside her were four good-sized pups.

The mother growled and bared her teeth at them, her tail up, her pups alert and clearly unsure what to make of the intruders. There, in one corner, was a sizeable bone.

Nate swore under his breath. “That’s a cow femur for sure.”

Deputy Marcs called in to dispatch to let them know they would need a team of wildlife specialists. “Yes, I said ‘wolf.’ Five, actually—a mother and four pups.”

Jason turned to Nate. “I’m going to look around.”

Jason snapped a photo of the animals with his smartphone, thinking he’d show it to Winona when they got back to the ranch. Then he and Nate moved through the camp.

Nate nudged open the large canvas tent with the barrel of his rifle. “He’s been here a while. He’s been cutting trees for firewood. He even built himself a floor out of split logs. Isn’t that cozy?”

There was also a makeshift wood stove made from an old steel barrel, wood piled high beside it. The man’s sleeping bag was raised off the floor by a frame of rough-hewn timber. Beneath the bedframe were tools and cans of .30-06 ammo.

Nate pointed at the ammo with his rifle. “There’s evidence.”

On the bed was a stack of porn mags, one of them open.

“Looks like we interrupted something.” Jason saw trap sets piled in the back and what looked like a bobcat fur stretched on a frame. “He’s been trapping, too.”

“We’d better warn people. He might still have traplines out there.” Nate shared this information with Deputy Marcs, who relayed a warning to others via radio.

Next to the tent was a large doghouse and, beside it, a heavy steel stake that had been driven deep into the ground. A thick steel chain was attached to the stake, the forest floor beneath it reduced to mud and covered with wolf tracks.

“I bet this is where he kept the other wolf.”

“I think you’re right.” Jason moved toward another structure and realized at a glance what this must be. “He’s been smoking your beef.”

The suspect had built himself a small smokehouse using rough-cut lumber, river stones, and clay. There was no fire burning at the moment, but hanging inside were strips of smoked beef, ribs, and a couple of briskets.

Nate took a strip of beef, sniffed it. “He’s resourceful. I’ll give him that.”

Deputy Marcs trudged over to them, an exasperated look on her face. “Wildlife says they can’t get anyone up here today. Sheriff Pella is putting in a call to your father, Nate. He’s requesting Winona’s help.”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t want her up here. We don’t know for certain that this son of a bitch won’t circle back or return with friends.”

“I’m just telling you what Pella said.”

“Damn it.” In the end, of course, it wasn’t Jason’s decision to make.

It was up to Winona.

And Jason knew what she would say.

“Yes!” Winona dismounted and scratched Buckwheat’s withers. “Yes, I’ll help. I need to get to my clinic. I’ll need to tranq the mother, and I’ll have to get Shota’s kennel out of my garage and onto a truck. Tell them not to go near the female. A mama wolf with pups will be very protective.”

Jack conveyed that information to Sheriff Pella, who would relay it via radio to Deputy Marcs. He ended the call. “Let’s get Buckwheat back in his stall, and I’ll drive you to Scarlet. The poacher took off on his four-wheeler and is now in the wind. Deputy Marcs was ordered not to pursue until backup arrived. Every on-duty law officer in the county is en route.”

The poacher took off. He’s in the wind.

Winona pushed aside her fear. The Wests and Sheriff Pella needed her help. That wolf mama and her pups needed her help. Besides, Jack would be with her. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

While Jack made arrangements for some of his men to keep a close watch on the house, Winona changed into warmer clothes and put on her hiking boots, a million thoughts running through her head at once.

Where had this poacher acquired two wolves? Had he been poaching steers to feed them? Were they healthy? Was the female wild, or had he hand-reared her as he’d obviously done with the male? How big were the pups?

Not sure whether it would be convenient for them to return to the ranch, she packed her bags and Jason’s, loaded them into Jack’s truck, and sent him a text message to let him know she had his stuff. Then she made a quick call to Wind River Wolf Sanctuary. Heather, the woman who ran the shelter, had taken Shota. Maybe she could take these wolves as well. “Hey, Heather, it’s Winona Belcourt.”

Winona explained the situation, including the fact that these wolves had been in the possession of a criminal. “I don’t know what kind of shape they’re in. If they need care, I can treat them at the clinic, but I can’t keep six wolves.”

“Of course, I’ll take them. I’ll get a pen ready for mama and babies. If they find the male, I’ll put him next door.”

Winona shared the news with Jack. “This is the same sanctuary that took Shota. Once we have them, they’ll send a truck.”

“They sound like good people.”

It took the better part of an hour to reach Scarlet. Winona entered the clinic through the back, leaving her bag and Jason’s duffel in the hallway. She enlisted Jack’s help gathering everything she’d need—protective gloves; drugs; her tranquilizer gun and darts; bolt cutters in case the kennel was locked; and several hoods and pairs of restraints. Then