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muttered.
    “What?” she asked.
    “Last time he acted like that, a storm was about to hit in the middle of calving season.”
    “But this was just one calf.” She wasn’t sure who she was trying to calm, maybe both of them. “He can’t be thinking the rest of the herd’s in danger.”
    Instead of agreeing with her, Beale started toward Matt. Although she wanted to see what had captured Matt’s attention, she couldn’t make her legs move. Reaching out, she patted Misty’s side.
    At length, Beale reached his foreman. She didn’t think they said anything before Beale knelt as Matt had done. A few seconds later, Beale stood. His hand hovered over his sidearm. Even at this distance, she knew the man inside Beale had been replaced by the child he’d been not long ago.
    They started back toward her, walking side by side, looking all around instead of where their boots landed. Shadows caused by their hats hid their expressions, yet their body language said a lot of things she wished they didn’t.
    “You know what did this, don’t you?” She glanced at the calf.
    “Yeah.” Matt fingered his rifle.
    “Are you going to tell me?”
    The two men exchanged a look. “Wolf,” Matt said.
    “Wolf.” She took a calming breath. “Then the rumors . . . They’re here, aren’t they?”
    “Yeah.”
    Years ago, wolves had been reintroduced to Yellowstone as an experiment in restoring the balance of nature that had existed before man declared wolves a menace and all but wiped them out in the United States. She loved the idea of having the predators back in the wild.
    The original pack had grown, divided, moved. The first wolf had appeared in eastern Oregon a few years ago, but because wolves were territorial, they’d continued to head west. Once a pack became established in an area, the alpha pair chased off the juveniles, forcing them to claim new turf.
    Central Oregon’s ranchers had known that time was coming. Why, then, did Matt and Beale appear so shocked?
    “All the scat’s a day old. There’s no reason for me to stay here,” Matt announced.
    Surprised, she opened her mouth, but he knew his world better than she possibly could.
    “What do you want me to do with the carcass?” Beale asked.
    As Matt explained that it needed to be buried to discourage wolves from returning, she noted how few words had been exchanged between the two men. Instead they seemed to be communicating via locked gazes.
    “That’s that, then?” she asked. “You don’t have any concerns for the rest of the cattle?”
    “Of course I do. That’s why Beale’s staying here, with my rifle. And why I’ll get one of my men to get my dogs up here.”
    That made sense, especially since Matt had trained his two Australian shepherds to protect and herd livestock.
    “I want to upload the pictures tonight,” Matt said. “I’ll get your camera back to you after that.”
    “That’s fine.”
    Squaring himself, Matt looked from Beale to her and then back again. “I don’t want either of you saying anything about this until I give the word.”
    Nodding soberly, Beale stared at what was left of the calf.
    “You can’t be thinking about keeping this to yourself,” Cat blurted. “The other ranchers have a right to know—”
    “I know what I’m doing, Cat. Believe me, I have damn good reasons for it.” Grabbing her upper arm, he propelled her toward her truck. “Time for us to go.”

4
     
    D riving took up only a small part of Matt’s attention. Mindful of Cat sitting beside him, he occasionally took in his surroundings. Although he’d known how the calf had died the moment he spotted the carcass, seeing that first wolf print had sent a chill through him.
    Things had changed.
    Maybe the life he’d fought so hard for had been upended.
    Damn, he didn’t want to feel like this. From early childhood, the predators had fascinated him. Unlike him, wolves were strong, resourceful, independent. On the few occasions when he had access to