Christmas Kisses with My Cowboy. Kate Pearce

assured her.

      “Okay. Don’t be long.”

      “I won’t!” she called back over her shoulder as she ran to the front door.

      A few minutes later, there was a scream and a wail.

      Katy, horrified, went running out the door onto the front porch, flicking on the porch light on the way. “Teddie! What happened?!”

      Teddie was frozen in her tracks. She couldn’t speak. She just pointed.

      There, standing a few feet away, was a wolf. Even in the dim light, Katy could see that it was huge, much larger than the biggest dog she’d ever seen. It had an odd ruff around its head with black stripes running through it. As she looked closer, she noticed that the wolf had three legs.

      “Teddie, come here. It’s all right. Walk slowly. Don’t run, okay?”

      Teddie did as she was told. She was afraid, but she followed her mother’s instructions. “He’s so big,” she said in a ghostly tone.

      “Yes.” Katy let a held breath out as Teddie made it to the porch. The wolf still hadn’t moved.

      Teddie would have run into her mother’s arms, but they were folded over her chest. She never had understood why her mother didn’t hug her. Her friends’ mothers did it all the time.

      As Katy stood there with her daughter, wondering what in the world to do, she heard a pickup truck coming down the road. It paused at the end of her driveway and suddenly turned in, going slow.

      “It’s Parker!” Teddie said. “That’s his truck.”

      Katy wondered why he’d be here after dark, but she was so worried for her daughter that she didn’t really question it.

      He pulled up at the steps and got out. “Oh, thank goodness. You horror!” he said, approaching the wolf. “Your papa’s worried sick!”

      The wolf howled softly as Parker approached it.

      “It’s okay, old man, you’re safe. Come on, now.” As the women watched, Parker picked up the wolf as if he weighed nothing at all and put him in the passenger seat of the truck. He closed the door and only then noticed how upset Katy and Teddie were.

      “It’s all right,” he said in a soft tone, the one he used with frightened horses. “He’s old and crippled and almost blind. Sarge said he left the screen door open accidentally and Two Toes wandered off. Poor old thing probably couldn’t find his way home again. He’s got a lousy sense of smell.”

      “Oh, thank goodness,” Katy said. “I thought he was going to eat Teddie. She screamed. . . .”

      Parker chuckled. “That’s what most people do when they come face-to-face with wolves. Some are aggressive predators. Old Two Toes, there, he’s a sweetheart.” He indicated the wolf, which was sitting up in the passenger seat without making a fuss.

      “He’s somebody’s pet?” Teddie asked.

      “My sarge. He’s a wildlife rehabilitator. Two Toes lives with him, though, because the old wolf can’t be released into the wild. He’d die.”

      “I remember now,” Katy said. “You told me about him.”

      “I did,” he agreed.

      “That’s so sad,” Teddie said. “I’m sorry I screamed. I was really scared. He came out of nowhere.”

      “Everybody gets scared sometimes. It’s not a big deal,” he said softly, and smiled at her.

      “Okay. I’m going inside. It’s cold!” Teddie said.

      “It is. You don’t even have a jacket on,” he chided.

      Teddie just laughed.

      He looked up at Katy. “You’re not wearing one, either.”

      “She screamed and I came running,” she said. “I didn’t think about how cold it was.” She looked frightened and sad and almost defeated.

      He came up onto the porch, towering over her. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

      She drew in an unsteady breath. “Life,” she said simply, fighting tears.

      He pulled her gently into his arms, wrapped her up like treasure, and just rocked her. “Let it out. It’s hard being the strongest person in your whole family. We all need a moment’s weakness to remind us that life is like a prism, with many facets.”

      “Or like Schrodinger’s cat?” she mumbled into his denim jacket.

      He chuckled. “Who’s been talking?”

      “Teddie. She heard you talking to somebody about a cat in a box and an Einstein-Rosen bridge.”

      “Heavy stuff.”

      “Very heavy. Way over my head.”

      “Mine, too, at first. But I loved the concept of invisible numbers and tangents and cosine and stuff like that. Ate it like candy.”

      She drew back and looked up at him. He seemed different and she couldn’t decide why until she realized that his hair, his thick, soft, black hair was loose. It flowed over his shoulders and down his back like silk.

      “Your hair’s down,” she murmured.

      He shrugged. “I was getting ready for bed when Sarge called. He’s missing an arm and sometimes it bothers him at night. He asked if I’d go hunt for Two Toes, so I left supper hanging and came running. Driving. Whatever.”

      “Supper at this hour?”

      “I don’t live a conventional life,” he said. “Supper’s whenever I feel like fixing it. But tonight it was oatmeal.” He made a face. “I think I’ll pass on reheating it.”

      “If you’ll come in, I can make you a nice ham and cheese sandwich. I even have lettuce and mayo.”

      His eyebrows arched. “All that on one sandwich?” he asked with a smile.

      “All that.”

      “Okay. Thanks. But I have to take sweetums home to Sarge first.”

      “I’ll be making the sandwich while you’re driving. Want coffee?”

      He nodded. “Strong and black, if it’s not too much trouble.”

      “I’m grading papers,” she replied. “Strong and black is how I take it, too.”

      He smiled. “Okay. I’ll be back in a few.”

      “Sounds good.”

      “Is Parker coming back?” Teddie asked excitedly when her mother came inside.

      “Yes, he is. He doesn’t really want to reheat the oatmeal he left to go find his sergeant’s wolf.” She laughed.

      “He’s so nice.”

      Katy nodded. “And smart,” she added with a wink.

      Teddie smiled back.

      * * *

      Later, Parker knocked at the door and Teddie let him in.

      “Your hair’s down,” Teddie said. “I didn’t notice before. Gosh, it’s long!”

      “Warrior hair,” he teased. “It’s my ‘medicine.’ I’ve never cut it, except once.”

      Teddie’s eyes asked the question.

      “When my mother died,” he said softly. “It’s an old way of expressing grief.”

      “Gosh,” she said, fascinated. “Well, I’m glad it grew back. It’s beautiful!”

      He chuckled and ruffled her hair. “You’re good for my ego.”

      She made a face at