Abby froze with the snarl of the pack alpha. The wolf stood waist—no chest high. The thing was massive. Its teeth sharp. White foam coated its muzzle. And it looked very hungry.

What the hell was she going to do?

A deep voice called out from somewhere to the right. “Don't move.”

The alpha wolf shook its massive head. Its growl lifted the hairs at her nape and had her hyperventilating, moments from doing exactly the opposite of that male voice. The others in the pack supported their alpha, forming a loose semicircle behind it, moving to flank her. Their strategy was clear and terrifying. Each animal would be free to attack without getting in the others' way.

“Don’t make any sudden moves,” the man said. "Run, and you're dead.”

A wolf toward the back of the pack pricked its ears up, rotating them toward the man's voice. Its nostrils scented the air as it looked back to its leader, its head swiveling with indecision.

Her hands trembled and her breath caught in her throat. An hour ago, her biggest concern had been hitting a moose. Now, it was facing down a pack of wolves.

The urge to seek out the owner of that voice warred with his command not to move.

"What do I do?" Her voice cracked in the quiet of the evening.

“Take a slow step back."

Abby maintained eye contact with the lead wolf while she slid her right foot back. The animal lowered its head and released a warning growl. Its lips pulled into a snarl, and it stared at her, as if daring her to run. Instinct told her that would be the cue which would initiate the wolf's attack.

"That's it, darlin’,” the unidentified man said. "Now, take another step back.”

The rear wolf’s ears twitched, rotating to locate the voice. It gave a low whine and dipped its head to huff at the snow.

The alpha’s shoulders twitched and its muscles bunched as if preparing to spring.

She transferred her weight to her right foot and slid the left one back. The alpha hunkered down, nose brushing the snow. It took a step forward.

"Again," the man urged. "I need more space for my shot."

She snapped her head around. "Your shot?" Was he going to kill the poor animal?

Her sudden movement triggered the wolf. The alpha reared back on its haunches and leaped. A shot rang out. Abby screamed. A yelp sounded and then the alpha landed in a heap at her feet with a whimper. A blur of tawny gray sprung from her left. Another shot rang out, followed by a yelp, and another hard thud.

"Goddamnit! I told you not to move!”

She cast around, searching for the man, but found nothing. At her feet, the alpha whimpered. Its forepaws scrabbled at the snow until it took a final, shuddering breath and grew still. The three remaining wolves looked uncertain, their cohesion destroyed with the loss of their pack mate and alpha. She thought they would break and make a run for it. Instead, they attacked.

She stumbled back beneath the onslaught of fur, teeth, and claws. More shots split the air. Wolf cries rushed in to fill the thundering silence as wolves fell dead at her feet.

"You killed them," she screamed. "Why did you kill them?"

Where the hell was he? And why couldn’t she see him?

Crunching sounded from her left, more of a squeaking noise. She peered into the landscape of white on white.

“To save your life,” he said. “What the hell are you doing out here anyway?”

Dressed in shades of white and gray, she could barely pick the man’s form out from the background. He was massive. Tall and broad shouldered, his winter gear protected him from the cold. The tops of his gloves had been pulled back, freeing his fingers to grip the deadly rifle. Like a phantom, he stood with lethal prowess, his head swiveling to take in the carnage.

Abby tucked her hands under her armpits seeking warmth. Her fingertips tingled with cold, and what she hoped wasn't the beginning of frostbite. The thin cotton of the socks provided little protection from the plunging temperatures.

A hood covered the man’s head, casting his face in deeper darkness. While clouds covered most of the sky, the light of the moon diffused through them and reflected off the blanket of white. Without the snow, the night would be plunged into total darkness. But the snow glowed under the filtered moonlight.

Beneath the hood, a pair of thick goggles hid his eyes, and the white and gray fabric covered most of his face. His voice held a hint of maturity to it, but without the quaver of old age. She guessed him to be a few years older than her by his tone of voice alone. Heavy boots encased his feet. Mid-calf, fabric gathered halfway above and below his boots. She’d seen that before. Called gaiters, they were designed to keep out snow from boots.

"Did you have to kill them?" she demanded.

He'd wiped out the entire pack. Abby loathed guns, and hated violence of any sort, especially against animals, but if he hadn’t been there… she wasn’t going to think about what might have happened.

"That pack was tracking you. Good thing I was here. Bastards are a menace."

He climbed the last few feet up the bank and approached her with a ground devouring stride. Cocking his head, he regarded her for a long moment. The glass of his goggles glittered in the faint ambient glow of the snow.

"What the hell are you doing out here dressed like that?" He made a vague gesture, sweeping from her head to her toes.

Abby rolled her eyes. “You think I'm out here by choice? My Jeep ran into a ditch.”

He placed the butt of his rifle on the toe of his boot, and a low, throaty chuckle spread from his chest, bursting forth into a deep, belly laugh.

"I'm sorry, but I don’t see anything funny about an accident.” She stepped back from the dead wolves, eager to place distance between her and the bodies.

In death, the animals appeared majestic and peaceful. They didn’t look nearly as ferocious as they had a few minutes ago.

"Couldn't you have given a warning shot?"

"Warning shot?" he repeated. “Now why would I do that?”

She pointed at the dead animals. “To scare them away. I’m sure they would've run. You wouldn’t have had to kill them.”

His tone turned incredulous. "What part of tracking you did you not understand?" He shook his head. "Wolves are no better than vermin around here, and they're breeding like there's no tomorrow.”

She knew little about the debate surrounding wolf preservation efforts, except there were two sides to the story. Man had nearly brought timbre wolves to the edge of extinction, and reintroduction efforts had been a topic for debate ever since. Well, not any topics she'd been involved in. Wolves were a non-issue in Southern California. What she hated was the senseless carnage, and the fact he didn't seem to care he'd taken out what looked to be an entire pack.

She fisted her hands and placed them on her hips. “I don’t see how that gives you license to kill them. You could have run them off.”

He laughed. “Obviously, you know nothing about wolves.” He grabbed a wolf and dragged the body to the side of the road. “This pack has been harrying the sheep and cattle all through the winter. They’ve even taken out a few of Bert Winston’s llamas.”

Llamas?

“It still doesn’t give you the right to kill them.”

With a shake of his head, he fixed her with a penetrating stare. It didn’t look like the cold bothered him at all, whereas she worried about her core body temperature approaching dangerous levels. She tucked her hands under her armpits.

“Fish, Wildlife and Parks gives me the right,” he insisted. “I can kill up to a hundred if I want.”

“A hundred?”

“What part of menace did you not understand? And you’re welcome, by the way.”

“I’m sorry? Welcome for what?”

“For saving your life.”

She hated that he was right, but damn his arrogance. For that reason alone, she wouldn’t say thank you. Her father used to say she was too stubborn for her own good. But that stubborn streak had been the one thing which had given her the tenacity to finish medical school and complete her residency, despite everything that had happened.

She took in a deep breath and blew it out. “Can you tell me how much farther it is to Peace Springs?” Standing in one place wasn’t keeping her warm.

He pointed back the way she’d come. “About eight miles that way?”

No! She’d been walking the wrong way?

“Excuse me?”

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he said, “Eight miles.” He dragged another wolf body off the road. “Now care to tell me why you’re headed out of town, dressed like that in a snowstorm?”

Her coat wasn’t meant for winter weather. She’d bought it on a whim because she liked the color. Style had been more important than function. Besides, she had all year to build up a stash of warm clothes. Right now, seven layers of cotton shirts, jeans covered by sweats, and a lightweight coat had her wishing for something more like what the man was wearing.

“I told you, my Jeep ran off the side of the road. I thought it was this way.”

He pulled another two wolves off the highway. “Lady, you’re really mixed up.”

Tears of frustration brimmed in her eyes, and she wiped at her cheek. In the last hour or two, she’d probably covered three or four miles. There was no way she’d make it eight more. She would have almost been there by now.

“Listen, I’d really appreciate some help.”

“Looks like you need it.” He came for the last animal and pulled it over to join the others. The man towered over her, having a least a foot, maybe a foot and a half, in height over her. The top of her head barely came up to his shoulders.

“So, that’s why you’re out here at midnight?”

“Why else would anyone be out in this godforsaken weather?”

He stepped toward her, concern replacing the snide comments from earlier. “How long have you been out?”

“I don’t know. An hour, maybe two? I thought I’d be able to walk to town.”

“In this?”

“The snow had stopped falling when I had my accident.”

“You should have stayed with your car. You’re going to freeze to death out here. And I don’t know what you were thinking getting out and walking.”

It must have been the skid. She couldn’t really remember which side of the road she’d wound up on, and by the time she’d climbed the bank the skid marks had been covered by the snow. The longer she stood in one place, the colder she became, and she couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering.

He glanced at her feet and made a tsking noise. “You’re not going to last much longer out here.” With a rasp, he lowered the zipper of his coat and shrugged out of the thick material.

“Honey, put this on before you freeze to death. We have a long walk ahead of us.”

“How far is your car?” she asked with a shudder.

“Car? Don’t you pay attention? I was hunting that pack. My truck is back at Bert’s place.” He pointed across the field.

“How far is that?”

He tilted his head, looking at her feet with those weird goggles. “There’s no way you’re making it in sneakers.” Gripping his chin, he seemed deep in thought.

She took the opportunity to wrap herself in his jacket. A deep woodsy scent filled her nostrils and had her taking a deep breath. The faint aroma of male sweat, sultry and dark, smelled divine. She tugged at the collar and pulled it close and shamelessly took another inhale. His chuckle brought her head snapping up.

“It works better when you zip it, not sniff it.” He turned and headed back the way she’d come. “We need to do something about your feet and the snow.” Bending down, he unfastened the white gaiters over his boots.

“Oh, I can’t take those,” she said.

“You’re taking them. Impossible to hike cross country in sneakers, and I’m not carrying you.”

Instead of handing the gaiters to her and having her figure out how to secure them around her calves, he knelt on one knee and tapped his other thigh.

“Put your foot here, and we’ll see what we can do.”

A little hesitant, she didn’t argue. Especially when this stranger was going out of his way to not only give her the coat off his back, but his gaiters as well. He snapped the top and bottom buttons and tacked down the Velcro strip binding the whole thing together. Then he pulled an elastic tab over the back of her heel and settled it against the sole of her shoe.

“Try not to drag your feet, or the strap will slip off. These should keep most of the snow out of your shoes.”

When she put her foot down and tested the elastic strap, he stood. His size intimidated her, and she couldn’t help but take an involuntary step back. She was what she called ‘tall enough for her feet to reach the ground,’ which meant she was terribly short and more than a little self-conscious about her five-foot-three frame.

Standing so close to him, she had to crane her neck to see his face, or what little there was to see. He hadn’t removed the goggles or the fabric covering his nose, mouth, and chin. But the real reason she stepped back was because of the strange things being so close to him were doing to her insides.

Needle-thin flakes filled the air, more snow coming down. She zipped the jacket, not because he’d told her to, but because she wanted to keep the residue of his warmth, and maybe some of his scent, inside the jacket.

“Shouldn’t we call someone?”

He took off with a gruff shake of his head. The deep rumble of his voice rolled back toward her. “Cell reception sucks this far from town. Don’t worry, it’s a short hike to Bert’s.”

He headed off the road, waving for her to follow. Leaving the safety of the road went against her better instincts, but he had two things she didn’t. First off, he knew which direction they needed to travel. Left to her own devices, she would have hiked into the wilderness and froze to death or ran into another pack of wolves. But she followed for another, more unsettling reason. This man knew what he was doing. His confidence filled her with a sense that everything would be all right. Not to mention, she was no longer alone, or afraid.

“How far?”

“Two miles,” he said.

Behind them, another piercing howl filled the night sky. The man stopped in his tracks and turned around.

“Damn wolves. Come on, let’s get a move on.”