Free Secret of the Wolf by Susan Krinard

unsettled her, and nothing was nearly so dangerous
    to a woman of science .

    It would not do, not if she was to be his doctor. That would have to be made very clear .

    "I could not charge you so much," she said, "nor promise a cure without further
    consultation.”

    "You haven't dealt with my particular brand of insanity.”

    She glanced over her shoulder. "Inebriety is not always equivalent to insanity," she said.
    "Do you claim another affliction?”

    His face closed up, all the easy poise vanished. She'd seen that look before: Panic.
    Denial. Fear. The sudden realization that he did not wish to uncover the secrets in his
    own mind and heart—secrets he was not even aware existed .

    But no one was forcing him to stay. He was not, like the other residents, incapable of
    living in the world. He might be at considerable risk to his health—even of death—but if
    he chose to leave, she could not stop him .

    "I have treated many forms of insanity," she said. "Very seldom have we failed to see
    some improvement. But the rules of conduct here are strict. No alcohol. You must get
    along with the others. And you must also contribute to the daily work of the farm.”

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    You make it easy on yourself, Johanna, she thought. He's not the sort to remain
    steadfast in the face of a challenge. Frighten him enough, and he will leave. He will not
    be able to unsettle you any longer .

    Repulsed by her own cowardice, she faced him again. "Do you understand, Mr.
    Forster? I will do my best to help you, but I can make no guarantees. I must retain the
    right to decide if the treatment is not working. But I will not demand an unreasonable
    fee—no matter how much I may be in need of funds. I do not ask for charity.”

    The pinched look on his face cleared, and the tension of his mouth eased into a wry
    smile. "You wouldn't. But you nearly have me fleeing in terror, Dr. Johanna. I wonder if
    I'd rather face a herd of charging elephants.”

    She found herself relaxing as well. "Have you ever faced a herd of elephants, Mr.
    Forster?”

    "Quentin," he corrected. "I've seen my share of elephants. Some were even real." He
    stood up straight. "Are you afraid of me, Johanna?”

    The question was startlingly direct and perfectly sober. He'd sensed her unease. Or
    perhaps it was another warning

    "Aside from the fact that you are a stranger, which in itself calls for caution, I've seen
    nothing to fear in you.”

    She didn't think she'd ever seen eyes so compelling. Beneath their veneer of laughter
    was layer upon layer of ambiguity, a guardedness that might conceal any number of
    darker emotions, just as he hid his fear .

    Finding and healing the source of that fear would be further proof of the Schell
    technique's validity—possibly even substantiation of her own theory, if the opportunity to
    test it presented itself in the course of his treatment. She could finally complete the
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    paper she and Papa had begun
    and the payment she received from Quentin would
    keep the Haven going for another few months, at least .

    "Well?" he asked. "Will you take on my case, Johanna?”

    She folded her hands at the level of her waist and nodded briskly, as much to convince
    herself as to answer him. "We shall begin work as soon as you've been introduced to
    the others and it's been established that you will—”

    "Fit in?" He grinned. "You'd be surprised just how adaptable I am.”

    Somehow she wasn't in the least surprised. He seemed so at ease, in spite of his
    obvious problems and the way he'd raved in the throes of his delirium tremens. It was
    sometimes difficult to remember how very ill he'd been .

    He was a mystery, and like all scientists she could not resist such a paradox .

    "I would introduce you to my father, but as you see he is sleeping. He will not be very
    communicative; it is a result of his