gently straightened, but he didn’t make a sound or even offer to bite either of them. Cody silently thanked the Fates that it wasn’t a compound fracture; there was no break in the flesh that he could find, and the broken bones seemed to set themselves when he straightened the leg. As quickly and gently as possible, he put the splint in place and fastened it securely.
The moment he finished, the wolf struggled awkwardly to his feet, holding the splinted leg out in front of him. He stood there, swaying a bit, and looked toward the lodge as if he could feel the warmth waiting there.
Cody got up and then bent, sliding one arm cautiously around the powerful chest and the other around the hindquarters.
“Your ankle—”
“It’ll hold.” Keeping as much of the weight as possible on his good ankle, Cody lifted the wolf very cautiously; he knew that most wild creatures panicked when lifted from their feet. But the wolf remained still and quiet. Cody grimaced as his ankle complained of the additional weight, but as he’d hoped, it held.
“Get a blanket or something to put in front of the fire,” he told Brooke. “In the kitchen would be best, I think.”
Nodding, she headed quickly toward the house.
Moving slowly, Cody followed her.
FOUR
T HE BIG WOLF was placed on a thick pile of blankets before the blazing kitchen fire, and two willing pairs of hands went to work drying him with towels. When that had been done, Brooke and Cody consulted briefly before warming a large pan of chicken broth for their canine guest.
Watching as the wolf began slowly but hungrily to drink the broth, Brooke frowned in thought. “I remember Josh saying something once about feeding a sick dog cooked rice mixed with broth and small bits of meat. He said it was the best and most filling meal for them. D’you agree we should feed him just broth today and then start the rice and meat tomorrow?”
“It sounds right to me,” Cody replied. He had removed his jacket and eased himself down on one of the chairs. “The broth’ll warm him up and take the edge off his hunger; he probably couldn’t stand anything more today.”
Brooke looked at Cody for a moment, a new frown drawing her brows together; then she left the room. Returning a moment later, she held the small first-aid kit in her hands. She drew the step stool forward and sat down on it. “I want to have a look at your ankle,” she told him firmly.
“Brooke—”
“Hey.” She looked up at him with a faint smile. “There are certain advantages to being psychic; I know damn well that you strained that ankle by carrying the wolf. So shut up.”
Cody sighed softly. “I’m beginning to realize that there are certain
dis
advantages to your being psychic.”
“I wondered when you would.”
“Nothing I can’t live with though,” he added hastily.
Brooke smiled but said nothing. Her smile died, however, when she unwrapped the elastic bandage from his ankle; it was swollen again and looked extremely painful. She got up and left the room again, returning with a pillow from one of the couches and what looked like a wraparound hot water bottle. The pillow was placed on the step stool and Cody’s ankle raised to rest on it. Then she went outside long enough to fill a medium-size plastic bucket with snow.
She didn’t say a word to the puzzled Cody until she’d spread the rubbery device out on the counter and began filling it with snow. Then she merely said, “Cold compress.”
Cody, seeking to take her mind off her obvious concern for him, said lightly, “We can’t keep on saying ‘the wolf’ whenever we talk about our new houseguest. What should we name him?”
“You’ve already named him,” Brooke said.
“Have I? What did I name him?”
“Phantom.” Brooke carried the snow-filled rubber cuff back and carefully wrapped it around Cody’s ankle, then straightened and smiled at him. “You said that I had to go out and meet the phantom myself; can you think of
The moment he finished, the wolf struggled awkwardly to his feet, holding the splinted leg out in front of him. He stood there, swaying a bit, and looked toward the lodge as if he could feel the warmth waiting there.
Cody got up and then bent, sliding one arm cautiously around the powerful chest and the other around the hindquarters.
“Your ankle—”
“It’ll hold.” Keeping as much of the weight as possible on his good ankle, Cody lifted the wolf very cautiously; he knew that most wild creatures panicked when lifted from their feet. But the wolf remained still and quiet. Cody grimaced as his ankle complained of the additional weight, but as he’d hoped, it held.
“Get a blanket or something to put in front of the fire,” he told Brooke. “In the kitchen would be best, I think.”
Nodding, she headed quickly toward the house.
Moving slowly, Cody followed her.
FOUR
T HE BIG WOLF was placed on a thick pile of blankets before the blazing kitchen fire, and two willing pairs of hands went to work drying him with towels. When that had been done, Brooke and Cody consulted briefly before warming a large pan of chicken broth for their canine guest.
Watching as the wolf began slowly but hungrily to drink the broth, Brooke frowned in thought. “I remember Josh saying something once about feeding a sick dog cooked rice mixed with broth and small bits of meat. He said it was the best and most filling meal for them. D’you agree we should feed him just broth today and then start the rice and meat tomorrow?”
“It sounds right to me,” Cody replied. He had removed his jacket and eased himself down on one of the chairs. “The broth’ll warm him up and take the edge off his hunger; he probably couldn’t stand anything more today.”
Brooke looked at Cody for a moment, a new frown drawing her brows together; then she left the room. Returning a moment later, she held the small first-aid kit in her hands. She drew the step stool forward and sat down on it. “I want to have a look at your ankle,” she told him firmly.
“Brooke—”
“Hey.” She looked up at him with a faint smile. “There are certain advantages to being psychic; I know damn well that you strained that ankle by carrying the wolf. So shut up.”
Cody sighed softly. “I’m beginning to realize that there are certain
dis
advantages to your being psychic.”
“I wondered when you would.”
“Nothing I can’t live with though,” he added hastily.
Brooke smiled but said nothing. Her smile died, however, when she unwrapped the elastic bandage from his ankle; it was swollen again and looked extremely painful. She got up and left the room again, returning with a pillow from one of the couches and what looked like a wraparound hot water bottle. The pillow was placed on the step stool and Cody’s ankle raised to rest on it. Then she went outside long enough to fill a medium-size plastic bucket with snow.
She didn’t say a word to the puzzled Cody until she’d spread the rubbery device out on the counter and began filling it with snow. Then she merely said, “Cold compress.”
Cody, seeking to take her mind off her obvious concern for him, said lightly, “We can’t keep on saying ‘the wolf’ whenever we talk about our new houseguest. What should we name him?”
“You’ve already named him,” Brooke said.
“Have I? What did I name him?”
“Phantom.” Brooke carried the snow-filled rubber cuff back and carefully wrapped it around Cody’s ankle, then straightened and smiled at him. “You said that I had to go out and meet the phantom myself; can you think of
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