Part 4
Deputy Benton found Wade repairing a fence less than an hour later.
He denied nothing once she showed him the photograph. He set down his pliers, removed his gloves, and sat on the tailgate of his truck as if his knees had given way.
Wade said the prospecting trench had existed since his grandfather’s time. After losing six lambs in three weeks, he had covered it and placed bait nearby, hoping to catch whichever predator had been coming through his pasture.
Eli’s jaw tightened. “You turned it into a trap.”
“I was protecting my animals.”
“You used a cable at the bottom.”
“I thought I’d catch one. I didn’t think—”
“No,” Eli said. “You didn’t.”
Wade had heard the howling two days later. He had driven partway up the logging road, seen wolf tracks, and turned around.
“I didn’t know she had a pup,” he said.
“You knew something was trapped,” Deputy Benton replied.
Wade stared at the dirt between his boots. “I knew there were wolves up there.”
“And you left.”
Charges would take time. The sheriff’s office collected the remaining cable, the blue rope, and photographs of the site. Wade was ordered to stay away from June’s property and warned that any attempt to shoot toward an occupied residence would bring immediate consequences.
He left the interview angry at the state, at the wolves, and perhaps at himself. No one could tell which anger was strongest.
Word spread through Alder Creek before sunset.
Some residents brought groceries to June’s porch and left before the wolves returned. Others called to say their children were frightened or their livestock were at risk. Two trucks slowed on the county road so their drivers could stare toward the cabin.
By the fifth night, the story had divided the town into people who called Ash an innocent animal and people who called him bait.
Avery disliked both descriptions.
Ash was not innocent in the human sense. He was not guilty either. He was hungry, frightened, and becoming stronger. He tore apart a rolled towel, growled at Dr. Brooks, and lunged at a moth that landed inside his enclosure.
Each sign of recovery brought his departure closer.
The family remained indoors after dusk. Eli slept on the living-room couch, and Deputy Benton drove by several times each night. The wolves no longer approached the porch, but their eyes appeared beyond the meadow whenever light swept across the trees.
On the fifth evening, Rachel found Avery sitting beside the mudroom barrier.
“You should be in bed.”
“I’m not tired.”
“You haven’t been tired since we got here.”
Avery watched Ash circle before lying down. “Are you going to make me go home?”
Rachel sat beside her. “Is that what you think?”
“You and Grandma keep arguing.”
“We argued before this.”
“About me.”
“Sometimes.”
Avery picked at a loose thread on her pajama cuff. “Dad left because you argued.”
Rachel’s breath caught. “Your father didn’t leave because of you.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Avery did not answer.
June had entered the kitchen without either of them noticing. She leaned against the counter, her face tired.
“When I told you not to take the north trail, I should have explained why,” she said. “I treated fear like a rule. That was my mistake.”
Rachel looked toward her mother. “And I treated independence like proof I was raising her differently than you raised me.”
“You were raising her differently.”
“I wasn’t always raising her safely.”
The words sat between them without becoming another argument.
Avery pressed her palms together. “I thought if I told you about the crying, you’d say no. And then if he died, it would be because I asked permission.”
Rachel reached for her but stopped before touching her arm. “You don’t have to earn your place by solving things alone.”
“I wasn’t trying to earn anything.”
“You were trying not to be a problem.”
That was close enough to the truth that Avery looked away.
Rachel waited until Avery leaned toward her, then wrapped both arms around her. June crouched beside them and rested one hand on Avery’s back.
In the mudroom, Ash woke and began to whine.
The scarred female answered from the meadow.
On the sixth morning, Dr. Brooks examined Ash’s leg and watched him walk the length of the enclosure. His limp was still visible, but he could bear his weight and had gone twenty-four hours without a fever.
“He’s ready for a controlled reunion,” she said.
Avery felt Rachel’s hand close over her shoulder.
“What if the pack rejects him?” Avery asked.
“Then we close the crate and take him to the center.”
“What if he can’t keep up?”
“We’ll watch. If he’s in distress, we intervene.”
“And if he goes?”
Dr. Brooks met her eyes. “Then the rescue worked.”
Avery wished adults would stop using true sentences as if truth made them painless.
Eli spread a map of June’s property across the kitchen table. The meadow offered the clearest line of sight, and the porch provided a secure place for the family to retreat. He wanted the crate placed twenty feet beyond the steps at first light, when the pack was calmest.
No one would approach a wolf. No one would stand between Ash and the tree line. The crate would be opened, and the humans would move back inside.
Avery listened without interrupting.
At the end, Eli folded the map.
“Tomorrow morning, he goes to his family or he goes to the rehabilitation center,” he said. “He cannot stay here another night…”
To read the rest of the story – CLICK the NEXT button 👇👇👇