Free Heart of the wolf by Lindsay McKenna

should I? I'm not your keeper. Everyone's responsible for themselves."
    "You mean that?" Sarah's gaze probed his laughter-filled gray eyes.
    "Sometimes. The Cherokee part of me believes it thoroughly. My white side doesn't."
    "I hate men who treat me like a half-wit," Sarah agreed. "Just because I have blond hair doesn't mean I'm dumb or helpless."
    "I'd never make the mistake of thinking that," Wolf said wryly. "Hungry?"
    "Starved." Sarah was suddenly eager to share the evening with Wolf. There was so much she didn't know about him., and so much she wanted to know. She'd had time alone to feel her way through her reactions to Wolf. All her life she'd been wearing male clothes, and she worked in a male occupation. No one had ever really looked at her as a woman until she'd seen that awareness in Wolf's eyes. He seemed to delve beyond the clothes she wore and the way she made a living to truly see the woman she was. That realization aroused something in Sarah, and she wanted to explore Wolf further, curiosity driving her as never before.
    "How about a steak, a baked potato and a salad?" Wolf asked over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen.
    Sarah grabbed her crutches. "Fine with me. I'll eat anything.”
    Wolf tamed. "Why don't you sit and rest?" He noticed at the entrance to the kitchen that not only had Sarah done his three days' worth of dishes, but the counter was shining, and the table was neat and clean.
    "I don't sit or rest very well." Sarah placed the crutches beneath her arms and followed him out to the kitchen. Wolf's bulk seemed to fill the room. She sat down at the table, resting the crutches against the wall. There was something pleasant in just watching him move about the kitchen. Despite his size, he had a catlike grace, never bumping into things the way she did.
    "I called over to the nursing home and checked in with the supervisor," Sarah told him. "They know I'm going to be laid up and won't expect me to visit Mom this week.”
    Wolf glanced over his shoulder as he placed two huge potatoes in the microwave. "Did they tell your mother what happened to you?"
    "No," Sarah whispered. "She won't even miss me not being there."
    The pain, her pain, stabbed at him. Wolf closed the microwave door and took two steaks from the refrigerator. "Doesn't she recognize you even a little bit?"
    "No. Usually when I visit her she reacts to me as if I'm a stranger,"
    "That must be hard on you." Wolf turned, seeing the hurt in her huge blue eyes.
    " Yes. . . it is. . . ."
    Placing the steaks in an iron skillet, Wolf turned up the gas flame on the stove. "My mother died of a heart attack. I guess in some ways we were lucky. She died instantly." Wolf caught himself. He never spoke about his past or his family. Perplexed, fighting an inner battle to remain detached from Sarah, Wolf castigated himself.
    Just one look at her and all his intentions melted like ice beneath sunlight.
    "How old were you?" she asked softly.
    Uncomfortable, he muttered, "Twelve."
    "Oh, dear." Her heart twinged with pain—his pain. Wolf knew loss. That was why he could understand her. Her determination never to trust anyone softened even more as she watched him working over the stove.
    Wolf turned when he heard the tone of her voice. Sarah looked so unhappy that the urge to sweep her into his arms and hold her tightly against him was nearly overwhelming. "That was a long time ago," he told her gruffly. "Save your feelings for someone who counts."
    Sarah scowled as he quickly turned away again, busying himself with kitchen duties. "As if you don't count," she muttered. "Who rescued me from under that tree? And took me in for a week because I couldn't afford the hospital? You count a lot in my book."
    The fervency in her voice broke through another painful barrier in Wolf. He turned and mercilessly met her soft blue gaze. "Honey," he growled, anger vibrating in his voice, anger aimed at himself, "I'm not worth caring about. I'm no one's ideal."
    Sarah