Free Howl of the Wolf by N.J. Walters Page B

Jules’ grandson prompted, and she forced her gaze away from the magnificent creature that now belonged to her.
    “Over there.” The corner of the living room next to her bookshelf was about the only place he would fit. “Let me move the chair.” She hurried forward and dragged the chair to one side and watched with satisfaction as Marcel and Jules carried her new purchase inside.
    It was all she could do to keep from jumping up and down and clapping her hands like a kid at Christmas. “Perfect.”
    Jules removed a snow-white handkerchief from his back pocket and mopped his forehead. “Wasn’t sure I’d be able to get him up the stairs. He’s heavier than he looks.” He stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket and then stroked a hand over the flank of the wolf. “No, sir, they don’t make ’em like this anymore. Hand carved from a chunk of wood, not made out of plastic or some other fake material.”
    Marcel stood by the door, waiting not quite patiently. “Come on, Grandpa. I got a date tonight.”
    Jules grinned. “Never let it be said I stood in the way of true love.” He stopped in front of her long enough to drop a kiss on her cheek. “Drop by on the weekend. I’m expecting a new shipment Friday night from an estate sale I sent Marcel to last week. We’ll see just what kind of an eye the boy has.”
    The boy was a twenty-two-year-old college student who went to school full-time, worked a part-time job and also helped his grandpa out when he needed it.
    “I got a great eye and you know it. If I don’t, it’s all your fault since you taught me everything you know.”
    The old man tipped back his head and laughed. “He’s right, you know.” He kissed her again. “See you on the weekend.”
    “See you then. Take care. Thanks, Marcel,” she called as the tall, lanky man practically bolted down the stairs. He raised a hand and waved goodbye over his shoulder. Jules followed at a slightly slower pace.
    Sabrina closed the door and locked it before resting against the wood panel. Her wolf was finally here. Didn’t matter that she’d only set eyes on him in the dim back room of Jules’ shop, the wolf was hers. Her hand rested on her chest and she rubbed at the slight ache in the region of her heart. “Must be hunger.”
    She really should rummage up something to eat before cleaning up her latest purchase. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t eat until she’d wiped the layer of dust from her wolf and checked him out.
    She pushed away from the door and went to the kitchen, digging beneath the sink for some wood cleaner and a few old rags. Carrying her supplies under her arm, she went back into the living room.
    The wolf watched her from the corner of the room, his gaze even more penetrating than it had been in the low light of Jules’ store. “Magnificent.” She grabbed one cloth and wiped away the dust and grime that covered most of his body. With each stroke, she revealed vibrant paint and exquisite details.
    “Oh, you’re even better than I thought. Even better than Jules must have realized.” She tossed the filthy rag aside, grabbed the can of wood cleaner and a clean cloth and went back to work. She polished his broad paws, each tipped with long, sharp claws. She stroked his muscular legs and flanks, marveling at the intricate detail of the black and gray paint. Each individual hair was painted, giving it a very realistic quality.
    The fur on his back was smooth and sleek. “If you were part of a carousel, why don’t you have a seat or a saddle for riding?” It did give her pause. Maybe that was a separate piece that had been lost over time. “No reins either.” She rubbed his large ears and the top of his head, bringing out a shine in the wood. There was no dry rot or wear anywhere on the piece.
    She stood in front of him, staring at his snarling mouth and the very sharp teeth that protruded from his gums. “You’re one angry beast, aren’t you?” One of the quirks Sabrina