Part 6
Will did not take the open path.
He turned away from the trees and stepped in front of the old shepherd again.
The notched-ear wolf stiffened. Will raised his head and released a deep, carrying growl. It held no uncertainty now. The leader answered with a snarl and charged.
They met hard enough to throw snow across Eli’s boots. The older wolf went high for Will’s shoulder; Will twisted, caught fur, lost it, and rolled beneath him. Teeth flashed close to his throat. He kicked free and came up with blood streaking one foreleg.
The leader pressed before Will could reset his feet. He had survived winters the younger animal had not, and he used the broken rails to narrow the fight, driving Will into a place where speed mattered less. Will struck for an ear and caught only fur. The older wolf bit into Will’s right shoulder and forced him down again.
The rest of the pack began to close. Ranger hauled himself in front of Eli and barked into their faces. His injured leg shook, but each time one wolf edged forward, the shepherd lunged just far enough to make it reconsider. He could not win another fight. He could still make the price uncertain.
Eli found his footing against the base of a fence post, the recovered rifle braced uselessly across his body. Will and the leader moved too quickly and too close to Ranger for a safe shot. He could only watch the younger wolf give ground in short, controlled steps while the older animal pressed him toward the broken rails.
Will yielded one step too easily. When the older wolf lunged to finish the advantage, Will slipped sideways. His jaws closed over the thick fur and loose skin beneath the leader’s throat. Momentum carried both of them down.
Will pinned him to the snow.
The notched-ear wolf thrashed once, then went still except for the rapid movement of his ribs. Will held without shaking or tearing. A low warning rolled through him as the other wolves watched from the edge of the yard.
Ranger barked again and staggered forward. Eli hauled himself upright against the fence post and lifted the rifle across his chest, away from the two wolves locked together. The nearest wolf tested one step toward Will, heard the click of the rifle’s action, and backed through the breach.
The others followed. They had come for sheep behind a failing gate; now the gate still held, their leader lay trapped, the dog still challenged them, and a man with a gun stood between them and the barn. They crossed the clearing at a trot, gathered once beneath the trees, and slipped into the dark.
Only when the last gray shape had vanished did Will release the leader. The old wolf lay for a moment drawing breath. Then he rose, head low, and limped after the pack. Soon there was nothing beyond the fence but moonlit snow and five trails leading north.
Will remained motionless until the woods were silent. Then he turned from them.
He went first to Ranger. The shepherd had sunk onto his chest, exhausted, and Will touched his nose to the dog’s muzzle with the same cautious pressure he had offered on the porch weeks before. Ranger gave one weak sweep of his tail.
“Easy,” Eli said, though he was not sure which of them he meant.
He unloaded the rifle and pushed it aside. Standing took both hands on the fence post and a breath through clenched teeth. His knee would bear weight only if he kept it straight, so he half walked and half slid the few yards to the animals.
Ranger had punctures along one shoulder and a cut above his eye. Will’s right shoulder was bleeding where the leader had bitten him, but he remained alert. Eli ran his hands over them as carefully as he could, checking for the kind of damage he could not manage alone. Both animals protested, which he took as a better sign than silence.
The sheep were alive. The inner gate had held even after the outer rails failed. Inside the barn, the ewes crowded the far wall, their eyes bright in the dim light, but their bleating began to soften when no predator entered.
Eli pulled the broken gate across the opening and wedged it with a rail. It would not stop a determined pack, but the fresh tracks led away and the yard had gone still. He spread his parka over Ranger’s back while he worked. Will followed every movement, favoring his cut foreleg but refusing the open house door.
Eli sank to his good knee in the snow. He put one arm around Ranger’s neck. When he reached toward Will, he stopped short, giving the wolf room to refuse.
Will stepped into him.
The young wolf’s neck was hot beneath Eli’s bare hand. He smelled of snow, blood, and woodsmoke from the house. Eli pressed his forehead briefly into the rough gray coat.
“You came back,” he said. “You saved us. You’re our brother, Will.”
Ranger leaned against Eli’s other side, nearly knocking him off balance. A laugh escaped him, unsteady and small in the wrecked yard. He stayed where he was until his breathing matched theirs.
The cold had not eased. His knee needed attention, both animals needed their wounds cleaned, and the sheep fence would have to be rebuilt before another night. None of that disappeared because they had survived.
Above the barn, the winter moon shone through torn clouds. Will touched noses with Ranger once more and settled close enough that his shoulder rested against Eli’s chest. The three of them remained together in the splintered yard while the sheep quieted behind them and new snow began to soften every track that had come out of the woods.