Chapter One

The night was heavy on the mountain. The winter cold was silent, but strong. The young wolf could feel the strength of the cold night air against his shoulder and down his side. He laid curled up with his face towards the fire only a few feet from him. The warm glow felt good against his nose and ears. It had been a long and hard day of travel. All was quiet. Everyone asleep except the old man and his young attendant.

The old man sat on a large log with a blanket wrapped around him. He had it pulled up against the back of his neck and head. He sat staring into the fire and talking to the young man who sat directly across from him on the ground. The wolf listened to the chatter of the old man but could not understand what he was saying. The wolf felt secure at the feet of the master. He would look up and see the man's hands moving in expression and his face changing as he talked. The younger man would nod, and then speak back. The wolf discerned that the younger man was asking questions and the old man was explaining things to the young man.

The wind blew the cold air against the back of the wolf. His fur was thick and protected him, but he could still feel the chill pressing against him. He curled a little tighter to have less exposed to the elements. As the wind died, he lifted his head and looked around the camp. He could see the light dancing against the top of the brown teepees on the other side of the two men. As he looked over behind the old man, he could see the others from his pack. He was the only one to sit with the old man, the others must stay behind him.

As a snake sheds its skin, the old man slowly pulled the blanket from around him leaving it on the log. He stood and stretched, then leaned to the ground on one knee, standing directly over the wolf. He placed his hands on the head of the wolf and spoke. The wolf froze as the man told him, "you are to be called Grey Wolfe, wise leader of my pack. You will lead the pack to protect my people and to guide us thru this wilderness. Your strength will be my strength, my wisdom will be your wisdom. You will go where I go, sleep where I sleep, eat when I eat. Your speed will be my servant, my position will be your dignity." The wolf felt the subtle strength of the old man. His hands were calm and kind but they contained the strength that could kill with its grip.

"From this day you will know me as Master, and you will follow all of my commands. I will need and use you as much as you will need and serve me. Sleep now, magnificent beast," he said rubbing the wolf s head and ears, "for tomorrow is a journey yet to be taken. We both will need our greatest strength and awareness."

With one motion, the Master was to his feet. Grey Wolfe's eyes had become heavy from the Master's strokes. He looked and could make out the many feathers and turquoise stones around the Master's neck. His white hair fell like a waterfall from underneath his head band. He was an impressive leader and Grey Wolfe was proud to serve him. The old man turned and walked away, eventually leaving the light of the fire. Grey Wolfe stood and walked to where the Master had been sitting and laid against the log to protect his back from the cold. He laid his head inches from the blanket that the Master had left on the log. His scent was still in the blanket. The young man looked at Grey Wolfe and spoke, "you must serve him well as I do, for it is our duty. For past our duty, it is also our honor. You must lead the pack and I must lead the people. We must do the best that our spirits can do or we may perish in this land. The duty is your call."

Grey Wolfe closed his eyes from fatigue. He found it strange that he could understand the Master or the young attendant when they spoke to him, but when they spoke to other people the voices made an undistinguishable chatter. He knew that it wasn't the words as much as he pictured and sensed what they were saying. He laid out full with his back against the log that had been heated by the fire and stretched his legs out straight in the direction of the fire. His laid his head on the ground and quickly fell into the peaceful darkness of sleep.

After what seem to be only a few moments that had passed, he felt the ruffling of the blanket next to him. He looked up to see one of the women shaking out the blanket and then quickly folding it. "Better get up, young wolf," she said poking him lightly with her moccasined foot, "the Master will be looking for you soon enough."

Knowing she was right, Grey Wolfe sat up. He saw that the teepees had been taken down and were attached to the horses. He could see the people as they were gathering things and loading them onto the pack horses. The others of his pack were moving about, the younger pups were biting and playing. He knew that they did not have long before the tribe would be leaving. He looked about into the wonderland of white. Snow everywhere. Snow for as far as he could see. The tree limbs sagged from the weight of the thick piles of white that covered their tops. Grey Wolfe observed some higher ground on the hill side under the trees that was not as heavy with snow as the open flat lands before him. Hunting would be possible in the thickets under the trees.

Grey Wolfe took off in a slow stride. Two others of the pack noticed him and followed after him. As he entered the shallower snow of the hill side thicket, he heard a rustling to his right. He turned and stopped dead still. Scurrying up the hill was a large jack rabbit. Its brown and white fur contrasted the white glazed hills. With a flash Grey Wolfe took to full stride, the others attempting to run with him. He is the strongest and fastest of the pack which is why he is the head. The others could not keep up.

With only a few quick turns, Grey Wolfe was upon the rabbit. He pounced upon it with his front paws and without hesitation bit into its furry neck. Instantly he could feel the warmth of the blood fill his mouth. The sweet taste filled his senses as he took the victor's spoils of the fresh kill. He would only need a small amount of the blood since the tribe had fed the pack full just after dark the night before. As he swallowed, he felt a rush of energy go to his head. He knew he could share the rest with the pack. He held the rabbit in his jaws and broke into a half stride back to the pack. The other two followed closely behind, eagerly awaiting a chance at breakfast. Grey Wolfe strode to the pack and dropped the now still rabbit into their midst. As the pack shared in the feast, Grey Wolfe walked up to the area where the Master had sat the night before.

He spotted the Master on a high spot about thirty yards away. He trotted over to him and stood silently on his left side. The Master stood talking to his young attendant who stood a few feet behind him to the right. Again, Grey Wolfe could not understand the chatterings of the Master to his attendant, but he stood quietly by. The Master had on white skins with no feathers or stones. The white contrasted to his dark hands and neck. His hair covered the back of his neck and shoulders and was almost the color of the skins. Grey Wolfe admired the authority of his master. Every move, every expression, his eyes, all were full of authority. Grey Wolfe felt ten times stronger when he was at the Master's side.

Suddenly, the Master turned and began to stroke the side of Grey Wolfe's neck with his left hand. It was kind but firm. He moved it around his neck until his fingers were on Grey Wolfe's main veins in his throat. He stopped still and drooped his head. The Master's fingers were exactly on the kill spot. Grey Wolfe knew that the Master was very experienced and skilled at war and killing. Grey Wolfe knew that the Master could clinch his fingers and hold them tight until his life was gone. No one else had ever been so quick to firmly place his fingers on his kill spot. Grey Wolfe sensed the Master's show of authority.

"The trees have no openings," the Master said to him, lightly pressing his veins, "we must search until we find the way through to the valley. You must work hard this day, young wolf, it is your call." The Master slowly and gently moved his hand to the side of Grey Wolfe's neck and gently stroked him. "It is for you and I to lead a way thru the trees," he said, lightly patting Grey Wolfe's ribs, "if we choose the wrong path, one of us will end up being consumed by the other as a means to survive. The one that survives will then end up being devoured by the bear and by the lion in their quest to survive. We must be wise in our choice so that we may walk thru and eat of the deer and the fish and drink from the clear streams of the valley. Use all of your senses and all of your skills. You must lead the pack and protect. I must lead the people and provide. Be open for the spirits to guide you, my friend."

The Master turned and began to talk to the young attendant. Grey Wolfe could not understand the chatter. He glared off into the distance and surveyed the trees at the edge of the flat lands. On the other side of the trees was a long hill down to the valley. Each winter, the tribe moves to the valley to be safe from the cold. Two years ago as a young pup, the snow was only a couple of inches on the ground and the path thru the woods was easily seen and followed. Last year, the snows were long delayed, so there was no snow on the ground when they came thru. This year, storm after storm had brought much snow long before it was due. The snow had drifted to higher than a man's chest. No paths could be seen, only the white wonderland that stretched the edge of the flat land as far as the eye could see.

Grey Wolfe was very confident. He knew that it was his call to serve the Master and that they would lead the pack and the people to the safety of the valley. He stood tall with his face to the wind. He was ready for the challenge. Grey Wolfe closed his eyes and let the sun shine upon his face and the cool morning wind blow thru the hair on his face. He suddenly felt a small hand on the back of his neck. A small hand with a very soft touch. It gently patted his neck.

"Sir," he heard from behind him, "it is morning, a wonderful morning." He opened his eyes, straining to look directly into the bright whiteness of the winter morning sun. He could make out the silhouette of a woman. A young woman. She was standing above him over his left shoulder. He looked back to the right. The old man and the teepees had disappeared.

"Sir," the voice said again, "wake up. It's almost eight o'clock. It's a lovely day." He felt her touch on his shoulder. Her small hand seemed light as a feather. He could smell a wonderful aroma coming from the young woman. It was like spring flowers, only more aromatic than the flowers had ever been.

'Mr. Jake," the sweet voice said, "it's me, Angela."

His vision cleared as he stared at her hand on his shoulder. Under her hand, he did not see the wonderful grey fur that had been so powerful against the winter wind, but rather he saw the blue fleece of his sweater. He blinked a couple of times and looked into the young woman's eyes.

"Angela," he said, his throat raspy, "I'm sorry, I was dreaming again."

"Nothing wrong with dreams," she said happily, "they are our lives while we sleep."

"Yeah ... yeah, I guess so," he said, looking down his body to his legs. He had on baggy blue jeans and his feet were covered in a blanket. "This dream was so real, though," he said, looking out across the valley to the mountains in the near distant. "So real," he said with a sigh.

"I hope it's not that wolf dream again," she said, pushing his sleeve up gently, then placing two of her small fingers over the inside of his wrist. "I like to dream about pleasant things," she said, looking at her watch, "not wild and scary things like wolves."

"Well, my child," he said, closing his eyes again, "there's nothing unpleasant about feeling the strength of a young wolf. To run that fast ... to feel that much power ... to be that strong. No, there's nothing unpleasant about that."

"Seems like your wolf dream has your pulse up a little," she said, gently pushing his sleeve back down. "Lord have mercy, Mr. Jake," she said looking at the blanket around his feet, "have you been out here all night again?!"

"Right now I'm not sure how long I've been out here," Jake said, rubbing his eyes with his hands. "It doesn't really matter, though. As old as I am, this porch is a wonderful place to be."

'Maybe," Angela said standing in front of him, leaning forward with a stethoscope around her neck, "but it's too cold out here to undo your shirt and check your heart and take your blood pressure. Gonna have to go inside," she said, leaning over him, her nose almost touching his.

Angela has been the delight of his life for the time he has been on the mountain. She brings life to an otherwise dull existence for Jake. He looked at the mixture of flowers, green, blue and yellow, that made the mixed pattern on the young woman's medical scrubs. Her top buttons were undone and as she leaned her hands on her knees and bent over to be eye level with him, her front fell away from her body. Jake could see her full breasts, covered only by a very sheer white bra. He remembered that his mother always told him that a gentlemen would not look when a lady was in a compromised situation. Jake immediately looked up into her eyes and away from her chest.

"Are you ready to come in and get down to business," she said smiling, "or do you want to spend a few more minutes out here while I fix us some coffee?"

"I can't believe the colorful clothing you nurses wear now," Jake said, glancing down at her light blue medical scrub pants drooping over her soft athletic shoes. "In my day, nurses wore white starched uniforms with cardboard looking hats, white patten shoes and white stockings. At the Mercy Hospital in our town, it was sometimes hard to tell the nurses from the nuns."

"Yes, sir, I've seen pictures of those old uniforms," Angela said, walking around him on the porch, "I don't know how those women could stand to have that stuff on for a full shift. Especially on the floor duty that we nurses have now. We have to dress like this to make it through a shift. Don't you like this better?" Angela said, prancing like a runway model.

"Yes, much better," Jake said, smiling at Angela's antics.

"I'll be inside whenever you are ready," she said, going to the door.

"What we got today?" he said over his shoulder to her.

"Ah, let's see," Angela said, pulling a card from her coat pocket, "same old same old on most of it. Heart, pulse, pressure, temp, dah ... dah ... dah," she said, scanning the card, "plus a drip. Maybe an hour, a little less."

"Okay, little Miss Joan of Arc," Jake said looking back again at the mountains, "brew up the stump water, I'll join you shortly."

Angela went inside the cabin and Jake stayed on the porch. He looked around at the beautiful scenery that stretched out before him. After his second heart attack three years ago, Jake had to give up working. He was a very successful business man, but the stress of it was ruining his health. He liquidated his extensive holdings and executed a living trust for his children, even though most of Jake's family contend that his children did not deserve what Jake had given them. His first marriage ended hard and his children were never close to him again. Jake told his close family members and friends that he did what he felt was right. They must accept his decision.

Jake always loved the mountains, so he bought this modern cabin in the Cascade Mountains to spend the last years of his life. He still has a large sum of money in certificates of deposit and other investments, more than enough money to last the six months the doctors estimate that he has left to live. The last year has been a long health slide for Jake. Circulation problems complicated by respiratory problems. The mountains made him forget his health. He feels alive and vital every day in the crisp clean mountain air. He knows he is very fortunate to spend his twilight time like this rather than in a small room in a convalescent home. He has been able to afford to have the necessary people come to him, like Angela.

Every other day, Angela, or some other nurse, comes to his cabin and checks his condition, administering anything the doctors prescribe. Two physicians from the valley care for Jake. They visit once a month and his brother Peter comes and takes him in for a full check up at least once a month. Jake also employs a part time housekeeper named Leona and a part time maintenance jack of all trades named Sammy. Everyone is very fond of Jake. They really appreciate his wisdom about life and the great generosity that he shows them as they care for him. Angela, Leona and Sammy have actually grown to love Jake. They take extra good care of him.

"Seventy six years and I'm flat worn out," Jake said to himself, looking at his bent fingers and the fading thin skin that covers them, "but that damned old pine tree is over a hundred and still going strong. Maybe the Lord will explain all of this to me soon," Jake mumbled. He leaned his head back against the headrest of the chair. 'Maybe sooner than old Doc Welbourne thinks," he said, closing his eyes, "sooner than anyone expects."