Free A McCree Christmas (Chasing McCree) by J.C. Isabella

his misery anyway. “I can’t risk him coming back near the house. Please, go inside and let me take care of this.”
    “But you’re going to kill him,” she cried. “I’ve seen him before. He didn’t hurt me, and he could have.”
    I couldn’t believe I was about to do this, but I kept the rifle trained on the animals as I edged closer. The black wolf was lying in the snow, and as his head came up, ice blue eyes met mine. “This is crazy.”
    “He’s not a bad wolf, Chase. I know it, and I think you know it too.”
    I was five feet from him, when he barked. Like a regular, happy-to-see-you bark, and his tail thumped against the snow. He was wagging it.
    “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
    I felt Briar come up beside me, and put a hand out to stop her. “Not so fast.”
    “He doesn’t look exactly like a wolf, does he?” she asked.
    I took a closer look at him, and wondered if he wasn’t mixed with some domestic dog. Like a shepherd, or maybe a husky.
    I took my eyes off the wolf to make sure the mountain lion was dead. There was no chance of him rearing up and attacking, so I crouched in the snow by the wolf and pulled off one of my gloves. I held it out, instead of my hand. He nuzzled it, sniffed it, and scooted closer.
    Briar slipped right around me before I could stop her and stretched out her bare hand for the animal to sniff. I held up my dad’s rifle, thinking I’d be quick enough if he snapped at her. But he licked her hand, and lifted his head for a pet.
    “I’ll be damned.” I sat in the snow, watching Briar fuss over the wolf. “I’m not sure he’s full blooded.”
    “What are we going to do with him?” Briar’s green eyes met mine and I knew that was a rhetorical question.
    I handed her the rifle, and carried the wolf into the last stall of the warm barn. We cleaned him up and gave him some dog food and water. I put in a call to the vet, and we went back to the house to find Millie proudly sitting on the front porch.
    “Either of you want a new rug?” Millie asked, eyeing the mountain lion in the yard.
    I shook my head. “Why don’t we let one of the hands take it, or maybe Grant?”
    Briar agreed, “Yeah, I’d rather not have him lying around the house.”
    “Millie,” I said, trying to figure out the best way to break the news to my aunt, “there’s a wolf in the barn.”
    She choked. “A what?”
    “A good wolf,” Briar said quickly. “He’s domestic, you know, like a pet. He attacked the mountain lion to save me.”
    “Yeah, so if you could not shoot him, we’d really appreciate it.” I said. She wasn’t the first person of whom I’d had to ask that.
    “You’re both chickens,” Briar said when we brought the hands into the barn to meet the wolf. “He’s not going to hurt you.”
    Grant frowned at our new friend, and Mac kept his distance, staring at me as though I’d lost my mind.
    “How do we know he’s not going to kill our livestock?” Grant asked.
    Briar demonstrated that not only did the wolf listen; he also knew how to sit, and other commands. She’d spent most of the afternoon getting to know him, much to Grant and Mac’s dismay. They were shocked I’d leave her alone with the wolf, but I knew he wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
    I met Mac’s eyes, then Grant’s. “I want to make sure you guys don’t shoot him.”
    “Is that why he’s wearing a sissy pink bandanna?” Mac asked.
    “Yes.” It was neon pink. Highly visible against his black fur. “I’m just asking you guys to give him a chance. Get to know him.”
    I made a few calls, checking to see if anyone was missing a dog that looked like a wolf, but no one came forward to claim him.
    Briar decided to call him Shadow; the new half-wolf addition to our family had been accepted by the other dogs, mostly. They weren’t too sure about Shadow yet. Stinker loved him. It took a lot of convincing for Millie to let him in the main house.
    And as it turned out, he was really good at being a