Morning Light by Catherine Anderson Page B

the glow of the yard light her big blue eyes glistened. “Yes. If you’re going to leave a vehicle for more than thirty seconds, you waste less fuel if you turn off the engine and restart it when you return.”
    Clint bit down hard on his back teeth. He was tired, both mentally and physically. It was no easy task to prepare for a wilderness ride, and he hated doing it in a rush. If he forgot something important, it could result in disaster—not only for him and Loni, but also for his horses.
    â€œI need the truck to be running right now,” he said slowly, making a concentrated effort not to raise his voice.
    â€œOh.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”
    Over the course of the evening Clint had come to understand that there was a host of things this lady didn’t realize. She seemed to be frightened of the horses, yet she took stupid risks, stepping too close behind them and compounding the offense by speaking without first letting the horse know she was there. That was a very good way to get kicked. He was going to have his hands full making sure she didn’t get hurt. Fortunately the eight horses he’d chosen for the journey were used every year for trail riding and were pretty much bulletproof.
    â€œI’m trying to air up a trailer tire.” He’d long since lost track of how many things he’d had to explain to her. She understood none of the terms that came second nature to him. “The compressor runs off DC power. The engine needs to be running in order for it to work.”
    A few minutes later, when Clint got in the truck, Loni was huddled against her door and didn’t look over at him. He wondered what she was pissed about but decided not to ask. The silence was a relief, allowing him to think without interruption.
    As he drove out to the main road, he mentally went back over his packing list. Had he remembered the Banamine, in case a horse got colic? Check. Penicillin for possible infections? Check. Pack saw? Check. Small ax? Check. Space blankets? Check. Gel pads for Loni’s saddle? Check. Hooter’s miracle salve, in case she got saddle sores anyway? Check. Cowbells? Check. A first-aid kit for the horses? Check. A first-aid kit for humans? Check. The portable cell phone charger, adaptors, and double-A batteries? Check.
    â€œThe wolves are back.”
    Clint lost his thought and scowled at her. “What?”
    â€œThe wolves,” she said thinly. “They’re back, and they sound closer tonight. Nana didn’t growl the last time, but she’s growling now.”
    A prickle of unease crawled up the back of Clint’s neck. She stared straight ahead, a distant look in her eyes. It was eerie.
    â€œAre you there with them right now?” Clint could almost hear the theme song for Twilight Zone playing in his head.
    â€œNo. I wouldn’t be talking to you if I were.”
    â€œI see.”
    â€œI was with them while you were airing up the tire, though.”
    Now he understood her silent withdrawal when he’d climbed into the cab. “You okay?” It was all he could think to say.
    â€œYes,” she said softly. “But Trevor is afraid to close his eyes.”
    Clint thought he saw tears in hers, and an odd tightness moved into his throat. She was totally serious. A part of him still wanted to believe it was all a sham, that he’d catch her in a lie sooner or later. He wasn’t sure why it was so difficult for him to simply buy her story, but it was.
    She fixed him with a frightened gaze. “Will they hurt him, do you think?”
    â€œThe wolves?” The tightness in his throat grew more pronounced. “I don’t think you should worry about that. We’re not even sure there are wolves out there.”
    â€œI’m sure,” she countered with unshakable conviction. “Is there a possibility that they’ll hurt