“Here. You eat the food in your dish,” she told Ping, setting her down on the porch. “I have to go for a little walk, but I’ll be back by lunchtime. I’ll give you some canned food then, if you promise me no more hunting today.”

Ping blinked up at her, then lifted one of her paws and began cleaning herself. Sadie turned and faced the forest.

She had to go back in there this morning. Her father’s camera was still in those woods, now soaking wet from the morning’s storm, and nothing, not even yesterday’s fright, would stop her from getting it back.

Chapter Five

For the entire three-mile walkto where her pack and camera were—which took longer than normal because of her tender feet—Sadie knew she was being followed. And now, as she stood and scanned the empty ground where her pack and camera should be, she still felt silent eyes watching her from the dense undergrowth.

She wasn’t afraid. She knew it wasn’t the stranger from yesterday, not unless the man had crawled on his hands and knees for the last three miles.

No. The presence out there just beyond her sight was four-legged, probably a bobcat or a fox, a black bear, or even a coyote. Although bears and coyotes usually shied away from humans, young ones were directed more often by curiosity than by their own good sense.

While growing up, Sadie and her dad had been followed like this on several occasions.

Sometimes they caught a glimpse of their stalker but usually not. The animals hadn’t been looking for a meal, they’d just wanted to see what was intruding on their turf.

Which was why Sadie ignored the eyes watching her now. She was too busy trying to decide what had happened to her stuff.

She couldn’t find any signs anywhere—no pack, no GPS, no cell phone, no camera.

Nothing. Not even the duct tape that had bound her hands and legs.

Sadie wanted to weep. She’d lost her father’s camera, the one she had carried since his death three years ago. How could she have been so careless as to walk away from it yesterday?

But, more important, where was it now?

The stranger must have returned and taken it. He may have been merciful by letting her go, but that was probably the extent of his good will. She would never see her camera again.

A tree branch snapped in the woods behind her, and Sadie turned at the sound. Had she unnerved the animal by stopping here? Was it growing impatient for her to move on?

Sadie looked around the small clearing one last time, but when her things did not magically appear, she gave a sigh of regret and headed for home.

She walked for a good half hour before the bandages on her feet wrinkled enough that walking became impossible. She sat down on a fallen log and was just leaning over to untie her boots when she saw it.

The animal stepped silently out of the forest less than thirty feet from where she sat.

He was absolutely the largest, most magnificent, most regal-looking coyote she had ever seen. His eyes were two calm liquid pools of iridescent green. The fur around his face was full and fluffed out at the jowls, swept back against two large, alert ears. His shoulder blades would come to her waist if she were standing, and his long legs were placed solidly over huge, broad-toed feet. His dense, unruffled fur was the color of cedar sawdust sprinkled with hues of variegated grays.

He was truly the most beautiful animal she had ever seen.

Sadie didn’t dare move a muscle. In fact, she nearly stopped breathing. What was he doing, showing himself to her? No coyote with even an ounce of instinct would dare approach a human this close. They were hunted animals, killed for the simple reason that they competed for the deer that humans prized so highly.

But coyotes simply weren’t this large. Or this bold. A thought came to her then, that she was staring into the eyes of a wolf.

Sadie immediately dismissed that notion. It simply wasn’t possible. Wolves hadn’t been seen in Maine in more than a century. They’d been hunted to extinction and smart enough to never return. Until now?

Sadie didn’t know if she should keep such direct eye contact with the animal, for fear that he might consider it an aggressive action on her part. Then again, she wasn’t quite brave enough to look away, either.

The animal yawned, nicely showing off every one of his lethal teeth, and leaned back on his haunches, flexing his shoulders into a stretch. But instead of straightening up, he lay down right there in the middle of the path and began licking his paws.

Just as Ping did when she was bored with human company.

Sadie could only stare. He was acting as if he had stopped in for a friendly visit.

She didn’t know what to do.

Could she just get up and quietly walk away?

Nope. He might consider that rude.

Unless he wasn’t a coyote or a wolf at all but a domestic hybrid. There were often classified ads in the paper that offered half-wolf pups for sale. God, she hoped that was the case. If he were half domestic, he might not mind that she didn’t return his desire to spend some quality time together.

Her sore feet forgotten, Sadie slowly stood up, careful not to make any sudden movements. The animal lifted his head from his chore and looked at her.

“Nice fella,” she said in a calm and soothing voice. “I’m just going to continue my walk home now. You can keep cleaning your feet if you want. I can find my own way from here.”

As she spoke, Sadie took small, guarded steps away from the animal, keeping her back to the trail and her eyes on him.

“That’s a nice boy,” she whispered, slowly turning around and widening her stride. She took at least ten steps before looking over her shoulder to see if she was being followed.

He was gone.

Sadie picked up her pace, not knowing if his disappearance was a good thing or not. A branch broke in the woods off to her left, and Sadie let out a shaky breath. It seemed they were back to the same routine as before, her walking the path and the wolf following in the shadows.

The final mile was the longest she had ever traveled before her cabin finally came into sight. Sadie decided that her career as a woodswoman was being sorely tried. The forest was suddenly crowded with all manner of beasts she wanted nothing to do with.

As if to prove her point that the valley had turned into Grand Central Station, Sadie spotted a strange-looking man, a hundred years old at least, sitting on her porch and scratching an ecstatic Ping under the chin.

“Aye, there you are, girl,” he said, standing up and walking toward her.

He had a thin, delicate cane he used for support—probably to catch himself when his feet got tangled in his long black robe—and a wild mane of white hair and a perfectly trimmed beard. A crisp white collar peeked out above the top button of his robe.

A priest?

Wasn’t this a bit remote for a parish call?

Sadie took the hand he offered and shook it, surprised by the strength of his grip, which was nothing compared with the direct stare of his crystal-clear, bright blue eyes.

“Are you lost?” she asked, taking a quick scan of the cabin grounds, looking for either a vehicle or a traveling companion.

“Nay. I’m right where I want to be, girl. And I apologize for showing up on your doorstep without notice,” he said, not releasing her hand. “I’m Father Daar. And you would be?”

“Ah… Sadie. Mercedes Quill.”

He cocked his head at her, his wrinkled face forming a smile. “I’d be knowing that name, Quill. Is your mother Charlotte, by any chance?”

He still hadn’t released her hand. Sadie didn’t really mind, though. She liked old people. She liked their old-fashioned manners, their straightforward talk, and their spit-in-the-eye attitude toward life.

“Yes. Charlotte’s my mom. How do you know her?”

Tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, he began to lead her toward her own cabin.