Protector Wolf. Linda O. Johnston

closed the trunk. “I’ll be interested in how things go at the bar this afternoon. And I enjoyed your talk before. But I wanted to say something before we’re with the crowd.” He stood in front of her, Rocky still at his side, and frowned, which removed some of the allure from his good looks.

      “What’s that?” She felt sure she wouldn’t like whatever he had to say.

      She was right.

      “I know about your organization, and I like what WHaM stands for. I’ve heard about how you go talk to groups like this while you confirm and count sightings of endangered animals. But—do all the talks wind up with results similar to yours? I mean, not only did you get people there who are excited about the prospect of a new influx of wildlife, but those who are against it. Outspokenly against it. Doesn’t that harm your position and your organization?”

      “No,” she said flatly. She turned away, starting to walk toward the bar, and Ryan and Rocky joined her. “Well...maybe.” She didn’t look at them. “Controversy sometimes stirs up people who didn’t even know they had an opinion. So far I think that’s been helpful.”

      “Maybe,” Ryan said. “But it can also cause problems both for your group and for the animals—potentially risky for both of you. I’d suggest you back off a bit, though I’d like to know more about your intentions. Let’s talk about it another time.”

      They’d reached the crowded sidewalk in front of Berry’s Bar. “Sure,” Maya said, realizing that the idea of getting together with the gorgeous, sexy man to talk appealed more than a little. But...could it be risky? She hoped not. Should she back off? That wasn’t her.

      What they would talk about might only rev up the controversy she knew was there.

      * * *

      Ryan saw Piers as soon as he entered behind Maya, with Rocky at his side. He’d told his aide to get here ahead of him and save some seats.

      Were dogs allowed in here? If questioned, he would just claim that Rocky was his service dog. He even had paperwork in his pocket that would confirm that—if the person asking didn’t dig too deeply.

      Inhaling the strong, predictable scent of alcohol, he waved, and Piers waved back, gesturing for him to join the group sitting on stools at the bar. Ryan therefore maneuvered through the crowd—and away from Maya.

      Which in some ways he hated to do.

      The woman was beautiful and sassy and loved wild animals. What wasn’t there to like about her?

      The fact that she might be putting herself—and his role here—in danger?

      Could be. That was why he had asked her to back off.

      Sure, there was likely to be attention regarding each new wolf sighting around here, especially if they continued and grew in numbers. But he needed a bit of quiet in his own search regarding the inherent nature of those incoming wolves, not people talking and arguing, or worse.

      And he didn’t get the sense Maya would pay any attention to him.

      “What’s wrong?” Piers asked quietly as he reached the bar.

      “Nothing, I hope.” But his aide knew him well. “We’ll talk later,” he amended.

      “Fine.”

      Ryan ordered a dark beer, which was also what Piers had in front of him. He decided to confront the situation of Rocky right off and requested that the bartender, a sizable fellow with a full head of hair and a beard, bring a bowl of water.

      “Sure thing,” the bartender said. “Nice-looking dog. Is he yours?”

      More or less, Ryan thought. He certainly treated his cover dog as his own. “Yep,” he said. “Rocky is one really good boy.”

      “I bet.” When the bartender brought a metal bowl half-filled with water to the customer side of the bar and laid it at Ryan’s feet—next to several pairs of feet belonging to other patrons—the guy asked, “Have you ever been to Fritts Corner before?”

      “No, though I really like this place.” He was laying it on a bit thick, but what the heck? “I’m here because of the latest wolf sightings. I work for US Fish and Wildlife.”

      “Really?” The bartender’s whole, round face lit up. “Were you at the talk at the park before? I was here working, but I heard about it.”

      “I sure was.” Why not go for broke—maybe lay into some of Maya’s contentious ground? “There were some arguments. Not everyone is glad there are wolf sightings around here. How about you?”

      “I’m definitely for them,” the guy said with no hesitation. He held out his hand to Ryan to shake. “I’m Buck Lesterman. My family recently bought Berry’s Bar, and I’m happy with everything to do with wildlife.”

      Which was what Ryan had been looking for. Was this guy a shifter? Were any members of his family?

      Or was Ryan just hoping too hard to find some evidence of shifters in this area?

      Could be that all the recent wolf sightings were just that—sightings of actual wolves. Well, he would know more tonight.

      “Glad to meet you, Buck. I’m Ryan, and this is my friend Piers.” They shook hands, too, then Ryan continued, “Not sure how long I’ll be in town, but I’m glad I’ve found this place.”

      “Hey, bartender!” called a guy nearby.

      “’Scuse me,” Buck said. “Got to get back to work.”

      That was when Ryan heard voices raised behind him, and he turned.

      Maya sat at a table, hands on her hips. Across from her were the three people who’d come onstage to give her a hard time, and they didn’t appear any friendlier.

      Time for Piers and him—and Rocky, too—to join her.

      As they moved in her direction, so did a few other people Ryan believed he recognized as having been at her talk.

      Were they for, or against, her position?

      * * *

      This discussion was getting out of control. Too bad Maya couldn’t have just invited the people from her talk that she wanted to come here.

      Fortunately, some of the people who’d been on her side were in the crowd, too. In fact, the tall, skinny fellow who’d been at the front and called out something favorable had made his way through the people who were giving her a hard time. Now, standing beside her table, he waved at her and asked, “Can I buy you a snack to go with your drink?” His brown eyes were open wide beneath shaggy blond brows, and his huge smile looked hopeful.

      “Thanks,” she said, facing him and using the opportunity to look away from the others, “but I’m good.” She appreciated that he’d been on her side, yet she felt a bit uncomfortable under his happy stare—even though it was way preferable to the potential argument that had just started.

      “You certainly are,” he said. He held out his hand. “I’m Trevor Garlona. Trev. And I want to know all about you and WHaM.”

      “Thanks,” she said. “But—”

      “Hey, I’m talking to you.” The voice across from her sounded familiar—the woman who’d just challenged her. “Don’t you ignore me. And why are you even still in town?”

      Maya turned again in her seat just a little. She had already recognized the woman who had confronted her after her talk. That woman now stood at the opposite end of the table from where Maya sat with a glass of wine in front of her. Some other people who’d been at her presentation had just gone up to the bar to order their drinks.

      That guy who’d introduced himself as Trev moved in the direction she now faced, although other people, including that woman, didn’t get out of his way. He squeezed in and looked at her, though, from behind them and raised his glass