Holiday Homecoming. Pamela Tracy

knees buckled.

      For the last two nights, he’d wrestled with memories of Meredith and had decided to avoid her except when it came to the wolf dog search. The decision hadn’t helped him sleep.

      This morning as he’d done an on-line search about wolf dogs again, her name popped up over and over. She really was considered an authority. There was a YouTube video of her working with Yoda, as well as a presentation she’d given on wolf dogs at the university, and more than one journal article.

      She was the last person in the world that he should be cozying up to, but she was the one he needed most.

      For the story.

      “I think I’ll join her,” Jimmy told the waitress as she gave him a glass of water and a menu.

      He pulled out a chair at Meredith’s table, and set down his laptop, instantly feeling the sting of her glare. She had a way of cocking her head to the left, her expression part perplexed and part annoyed, all the while sending a strong message with those piercing green eyes. Pretending he didn’t notice that she was annoyed with him, he leaned over and looked at her laptop screen. A large photo of a wolf dog, glaring much the same way Meredith was, looked back at him.

      “That’s not our dog,” Jimmy commented.

      “Our dog?”

      “The one we saw day before yesterday.”

      “You’re right. It’s not.” Her tone suggested he had the intelligence of a gnat.

      “That animal,” Jimmy pointed out, “belongs to a wolf dog rescue called Aqui Lobos well past Tucson. I called them early this morning. They’re not very chatty, but I did manage to find out that they’re not missing any dogs.”

      For a moment, Meredith stared at him, looking as if she was contemplating swatting him away. He couldn’t remember the last time a member of the female species had not only implied he had the intelligence of a gnat but had acted quite so willing to treat him like one, too. Then she let out a sigh before asking, “Have they turned away anyone wanting to give them a dog?”

      “I didn’t ask that.”

      “Who else have you talked to?”

      He scooted his chair closer so he could see her laptop better, but also because he loved the way she smelled, like strawberry shampoo. “I’ve talked to the county sheriff department and the wolf dog rescue organization,” he said. “I’ve stopped at a few stores and one rest area checking for missing-animal posters.”

      “Agatha said you came to see her, too, to ask about wolf dogs. Why?”

      “Same as you, I’m following a story.”

      “I’m not following a story,” she protested. “I’m following y—” She stopped, regrouped and asked, “What makes this a good story, that we have an animal that should be left in the wild or that we have an animal that should be a pet?”

      “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “This is a new area for me. Usually my documentaries cover the latest hot topic, animals that are either unusual or endangered. Animals that have or could have public sympathy.” He paused. “I noticed you didn’t give me the option wolf dogs shouldn’t exist at all.”

      “Wolf dogs have been around for thousands of years and are somewhat endangered,” Meredith emphasized. “They hunted dinosaur, and they lived with the Aztecs. They’re not going away, especially since many people think it’s cool to own a dog that is part wolf. But they are endangered because most people haven’t a clue how to take care of them. They’re gorgeous animals and owning one comes with a certain prestige. Certain breeders know this and cater to it, no matter what happens after the pup is sold.”