Born To Be Wild Read online

  Josie rolled her eyes, but she obediently made her way out the rear exit of the clinic and up the outdoor back stair to her apartment on the house’s top floor.

  Stripping off her worn scrubs made an instantaneous difference in her attitude, but it wasn’t until she stepped under the steaming spray of her shower that she really began to feel something resembling normal again. She raised her face to the stream of water and slicked back her hair while her mind turned toward the next item on her agenda. Oddly enough, that item turned out to be not coffee, but the rather unexpected figure of Stone Creek’s newest sheriff.

  Newest, of course, was a relative term. From what Josie knew, Eli Pace had moved to town a little more than three years ago in order to take up his current position in law enforcement. If the small-town gossip mill was correct, he’d previously lived and worked in Seattle, having served as a detective on that city’s police force. More than one resident of Stone Creek had wondered what would make a man in his thirties with a successful career in the big city move to their remote little corner of the Northwest, away from all the culture, nightlife, and eligible women a more metropolitan setting had to offer. A small betting pool had quickly been established, and word down at the tavern said the current odds favored a woman at the root of it, either divorce, death, or nasty breakup.

  Personally, after last night, Josie felt she needed to lay her money on death, because she couldn’t possibly imagine what kind of lunatic would deliberately end a relationship with the man who’d carried an injured wolf into her clinic in the dead of night. Had she been blind not to realize how hot that man was?

  Josie blinked hard, sending drops of water flying back toward their source.

  Wow, that thought had certainly snuck up on her. Had she honestly developed a case of the hots for a man she’d never spoken to before last night?

  Rinsing the last of the conditioner from her hair, Josie reached for the faucet and shut off the water. A few twists of cloth and she had both hair and body wrapped in terry toweling and a frown still on her face as she padded back into her bedroom to dress.

  Admittedly, there was nothing odd about her finding the sheriff attractive. She, after all, was not blind, and she would have to be not to notice the very fine physical attributes of a well-built, six-foot-tall man when one stood right in front of her. Josie had definitely noticed, everything from a pair of ridiculously broad shoulders and a correspondingly wide chest to callused, long-fingered hands to long legs and slim hips that somehow looked even sexier when slung with a heavy utility belt and holster.

  And then there had been those eyes, green and glittering and fringed with surprisingly black, thick lashes for a man with sun-streaked, toffee-colored hair. The memory of those eyes stayed with her. She could picture them now, intent and unreadable, seeming to follow her every move without revealing a single thought of his own. How in the world had she missed noticing those eyes before last night?

  Josie snorted and yanked up the zipper on her jeans. It had probably been quite easy, she acknowledged, scuffing her feet into a pair of battered loafers and heading back to the bath to dry her hair. She had never seen him in his animal form, and Josie had never been the kind of girl to notice much that wasn’t covered in fur.

  Whether it came from growing up in a rural community known for a population made up two-thirds of Others, or from growing up as the daughter of the only veterinarian for twenty miles, Josie couldn’t be sure. Either way, according to her mother her first word had been kitty and the first birthday or Christmas present she’d ever asked for had been her own puppy. And a stethoscope. No one had ever doubted what the youngest Barrett girl was going to be when she grew up, least of all Josie. Unfortunately, at the age of five, she hadn’t considered what a single-minded focus on her future career path would mean for her social life.

  Or the lack thereof.

  Bundling her mostly dry brown hair into its usual ponytail, Josie grabbed her keys and her wallet and left her apartment, thumping down the stairs to the small parking area at the back of the clinic. On the small patch of grass between the blacktop and the building, a familiar figure waited for her with inexhaustible patience.

  “Morning, Bruce,” Josie greeted cautiously. “Does this mean that you’ve forgiven me for the pizza thing?”

  Chocolatey brown eyes blinked at her from beneath grizzled gray eyebrows, but Bruce’s expression remained impassive.

  “Oh, I get it. You’ve decided the only way I can atone for last night is to spring for breakfast this morning, is that it?”

  Bruce’s plumy tail wagged in response.

  “All right, then. Come on. I’m headed to the bakery anyway. We’ll see what Mark has on offer.”

  With a satisfied grunt, Bruce pushed up from his sitting position and fell into step at his mistress’s side.

  Josie rounded the corner of the clinic building and set off down the quiet, tree-lined side street toward the center of town. The walk would take less than five minutes, given the fact that Stone Creek didn’t consist of much town, but with her thoughts still jumbled, likely the exercise would do her good. And at the end of it, there would be coffee.

  The center of Stone Creek remained quiet at not-quite-eight on a Sunday morning, and Josie and Bruce made their way down Main Street without running into more than two or three acquaintances. None of them, thankfully, stopped Josie to ask a question about their pets.

  She couldn’t help casting a glance toward the historic brick building that housed both the town hall offices and the police station as she passed, but the nineteenth-century facade offered no clues as to what might be happening inside. Still, it took a concentrated effort to pull her gaze away and focus it back on the clapboard front of the Sweet Spot Bakery & Café. As soon as she opened the door, though, the small shop received all of her attention. The seductive scent of coffee, yeast, and cinnamon lured her inside like a magic spell.

  A quick command had Bruce settling with disgruntled grace in front of the plate-glass window while Josie made her way inside.

  “Mark Hennessey, I swear to God, if I didn’t love you with all my stomach, I’d report you to the Inquisition for practicing witchcraft.”

  A shaggy, sandy-haired figure stepped through an open doorway behind the tall glass counters, wiping his hands on an already smeared white apron.

  “If you’re referring to the Spanish Inquisition, it was formally disbanded in 1834. And the Roman one changed its name in 1908. But since I’m not Catholic, I don’t think either one really has any jurisdiction over my baked goods.”

  Her eyes fixed on the trays full of gooey, doughy, sugar-laden treats already on display, Josie didn’t even bother to look up to catch the local baker’s smirk. She didn’t need to. Their morning routine had been established years ago. “So you don’t deny that you use unnatural means to create your confections.”

  “Josephine, baby, if you knew how I created my confections, you’d never look at another man again.”

  “What makes you think I look at any of them now?”

  “You know, I had always assumed that you just performed de-sexing operations, not underwent them yourself. Then again, I could be wrong.”

  “You can be the queen of England if you want, as long as you give me three of everything and an extra-large coffee with cream before you leave to take up your royal duties.”

  Mark was already reaching for a stack of tall paper cups. “Nah. I mean, don’t get me wrong; it’s not like I haven’t considered it as a career change, but I’d look funny in those little veiled hats.”

  “Not to mention the pantyhose.” Josie handed her old high school buddy a packet of raw sugar off the counter, then leaned her elbows on the polished wooden surface while he diluted her beverage with enough dairy product for any five people. “So what’s good this morning?”

  He threw her a dirty look as he dumped in the sugar. “Have I ever made anything that wasn’t good?”

  Josie thought for a moment. “T
here was that first loaf of rye bread you attempted. The thing could have served as a boat anchor.”

  “I was thirteen. It was more than fifteen years ago. I think you need to move on. My breads have.”

  “Yes, but your breads are more evolved than I am.”

  The first sip Josie took had her eyes closing and her throat humming. No one made coffee like Mark. If she hadn’t remembered the way he’d looked in his Peter Pan costume during their sixth-grade play, she’d have proposed to him the minute she turned eighteen. And that would have really pissed off his wife.

  When she managed to pry her lids back up, she tried again. “Okay, let me put it this way. What do you have today that will meet Sir Bruce’s exacting culinary standards?”

  “And not get your license revoked by the state veterinary board? I’ve got naturally sweetened organic carrot muffins. He liked those last time.”

  “Hm, give me two. He’s pretty pissed at me.”

  Mark snapped open a folded sheet of parchment and reached for the tray of muffins. “What did you do this time?”

  Josie made a face. “I reneged on pizza night. But it wasn’t my fault. I had an emergency.”

  “As if that’s any kind of excuse. A woman’s word should be her bond.”

  “So he’s made clear. I’m hoping this will at least get him to speak to me again.” Accepting the tray he handed her, Josie headed toward the door and her grudge-holding pet. “How about you warm me up a cinnamon roll while I go beg for forgiveness?”

  A moment later she left Bruce on the sidewalk under the bakery window, happily feasting on the warm muffins and bowl of bottled springwater that Mark had provided. When she stepped back into the shop, her friend was busy transferring huge chocolate chip cookies from a sheet pan to a bright red plate in the glass display case.

  A huge, frosted cinnamon roll sat on a smaller blue saucer on the counter beside her coffee.

  “You are a saint,” she breathed, reaching for the roll with one hand and a stack of napkins with the other.

  “Sarah tells me that all the time,” he agreed. “ ‘A saint among husbands’ is how she likes to put it.”

  “I won’t go there, but I’ll totally vouch for a saint among bakers.”

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full. Especially not when you’re eating the very thing you swore last week that you were going to give up for Lent.”

  Josie swallowed a gulp of coffee and grinned. “I’m not Catholic, either. Besides, I deserve a cinnamon roll, darn it. I had to sleep in the clinic last night, and I swear you can feel how cold and hard that floor is even through the air mattress.”

  “Busy night?”

  She shrugged. “Just one emergency, but it was pretty serious. Had to go into surgery.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  Josie started to shake her head, then hesitated. In a town with fewer than three thousand residents, most everyone in Stone Creek knew most everyone else, including their pets, but a wolf wasn’t a pet so her initial reaction was to deny that Mark might know her patient. Then again, her patient wasn’t actually a wolf, was she? And since Josie still had no idea of the Lupine’s human identity, how did she really know if Mark knew her or not?

  “We’re still waiting to contact the . . . owners,” she finally said, looking away and busying herself carrying her breakfast over to one of the three small tables in the corner of the shop. “I probably shouldn’t say anything until I’ve talked to them.”

  Mark shrugged his agreement, but his brow quirked up as he repeated, “We? I thought you played the saint and gave your entire staff Sundays off so you could martyr yourself on the altar of overwork.”

  “Funny. As it happens, Ben came in to help me out today, but I wasn’t talking about my staff. I meant me and the sheriff. He’s the one who found my patient and brought her in.”

  “Eli brought you an injured animal?”

  “Why not? Sheriffs are supposed to be like grown-up Boy Scouts, right?” Josie pulled off another chunk of soft, sticky dough and eyed her friend. “But when did you get to be on a first-name basis with the local fuzz?”

  “This is the closest thing to a doughnut shop in thirty miles,” a new voice answered, and Mark and Josie both looked toward the door to where the man in question stood, wearing a crisp blue uniform and an amused expression. “Mark was the first local resident I introduced myself to.”

  Gasping with a mouthful of cinnamon roll nearly caused Josie to choke. She grabbed quickly for her coffee and took a healthy swig to wash down the bite and used a napkin to wipe her eyes when they started to water.

  “Dr. Barrett, are you all right?” the sheriff asked, focusing his bright green gaze on her. “Do you need some help?”

  Josie waved a hand at him and shook her head. “No. Sorry.” She gasped for air. “You just startled me. I’m fine.”

  “Oh, good,” Mark said mildly. “Deaths on the premises are really bad for business. For some reason, they seem to upset the customers.”

  “Speaking of customers,” Eli broke in, “I was wondering if one of yours might belong to the fellow loitering out front.”

  Josie wiped her fingers on a stack of napkins as she struggled to regain her composure. Why did she always seem to be at her least cool and collected in front of a good-looking man?

  “Bruce is my dog, Sheriff,” she said, striving for a mild tone. “Is there a problem with him?”

  Eli shook his head. “Not at all, Doctor. I was actually just going to compliment whoever had trained him to sit and wait like that without even tying him to anything. I’ve never seen a more well-behaved dog. You should be proud.”

  Mark snorted. “It’s Bruce who should be proud. Josie had very little to do with it.”

  Josie shot her friend a glare, but she shrugged when she turned back to the sheriff. “Mark is unfortunately right. I really haven’t done much training with Bruce at all. I think the reason he doesn’t wander has more to do with the fact that he’s one of the laziest animals on the face of the earth than that it’s what I told him to do.”

  “Last year I watched him sleep through the entire July Fourth fireworks display,” Mark agreed. “And we were only sitting like fifty feet from where they were setting them off. Most people had to lock their dogs inside their houses. Bruce lay down on our blanket in Kirkland Field and snored through the whole thing.”

  “And, trust me, his snores were almost louder than the explosions.”

  Eli grinned. “That’s some dog. Where did you get him?”

  “He got me,” Josie corrected, her fingers pulling idly on the rim of her coffee cup. “I was working late one night, running labs, and I heard a noise coming from the parking lot behind the clinic. When I opened to door to look out and see what it was, Bruce strolled in and made himself at home. He was only about four months old at that point, but he already had paws the size of dinner plates.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that. What is he, do you think? Part Great Dane?”

  Josie shrugged. “I usually go with mostly Irish wolfhound and mastiff, with maybe some Saint Bernard thrown in, but that’s purely a guess.”

  “He does like brandy,” Mark agreed, “so it’s a good guess.” He dropped the sheet pan onto the counter behind him and smiled at the sheriff. “So what can I do for you, Eli? I don’t do doughnuts on Sundays, but I’ve got the cinnamon rolls, and I think the scones came out pretty well today.”

  “I’ll take a bribery box to go,” Eli said. “And coffee for three. If I go back to the station empty-handed, I’ll end up locked in one of my own cells. But believe it or not, I didn’t actually come in here for pastries. I was just walking by when I looked through the window and saw Dr. Barrett. She’s the one I’ve been looking for.”

  Exp. 10-1017.03

  Log 03-00122

  Unable to locate TS-0024. May be required to adjust staffing if performance does not improve.

  New dosages to be administered immediately to new subjects. Goal includes TS-0025
through TS-0029. At least three new subjects required for sufficient data.

  The early methodology will be adjusted. Clearly more than one subject will be required in order for sufficient levels of transmission to be achieved.

  Looking into radio tracking equipment for Stage 4. Remain optimistic as to ultimate project success.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The one I’ve been looking for.

  Something inside Josie sprang to life at the sound of those words, but that something wasn’t entirely comfortable. Exciting, but not comfortable. The sheriff made it sound more like a sacred prophesy or a statement of personal intent than the matter of business she assured herself it had to be.

  It had to be.

  Josie ignored the surge of fluttery butterfly wings in her stomach and took a casual sip of her coffee. “You were looking for me? I hope I’m not wanted for questioning in anything.”

  “Not at all. I just wanted to ask you about your latest patient. How is she doing this morning?”

  “About the same as she was when you left, unfortunately. I had hoped she’d be a bit more alert this morning.”

  Mark passed a fat white pastry box tied with white butcher’s twine into the sheriff’s hand, along with a tray containing three enormous take-away cups of coffee. While he made change, Eli kept his attention on Josie. She fought momentarily against the urge to fidget, then gave up and stood to drop the remains of her cinnamon roll into the trash.

  “She hasn’t changed then?”

  Josie shook her head. “Not as of about ninety minutes ago, but I should be getting back to check on her again.” She turned toward the counter, even while her body began inching toward the door. “Mark, delicious as always. I left a ridiculous yet appropriate fee on my table. Tell Sarah hello for me and I’ll see her tomorrow morning.”

  “Hold on and I’ll walk with you,” Eli said, pocketing his change and picking the coffee tray up again. He gestured toward the door.

  Josie wasn’t sure if the surge of adrenaline in her veins signified excitement or panic. Either way, she figured it meant danger.