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Instead, I approached the entry. The young volunteer in the booth recognized me from my many entrances over the past few days, and waved me in.
    I spotted Jon Doe walking along the path from the storage area, arms full of bags of creatures’ food.
    “Hi,” I called. “Can I help?”
    And have you seen any sign of mama wolf ? But I didn’t ask what was so obviously on my mind.
    “Nope. I’m good.” He aimed his shrewd gaze at me. “And, no, though I’ve looked everywhere, checked with anyone I know who’s visited this place over the past few weeks, I’m still damned frustrated. I haven’t found a clue about where that poor wolf went to. In case you wanted to know.”
    I smiled. “How did you guess? More important, are the babies still okay?”
    “Sure are, and they’ll continue that way as long as they’re in my care.” His goatee underscored his mouth’s straight line of determination. “Not that I’m neglecting my other responsibilities. I want to make sure everyone’s aware of that.”
    “That’s great,” I said. I believed him. He certainly seemed earnest. And if he thought it important that people around here understood his attitude, I’d do what I could to spread the word. “And . . . well, when’s the next feeding time?”
    He grinned. “I take it you want to participate?”
    “You take it right.” I smiled right back.
    “You’re my kind of people,” he said.
     
     
     
    OKAY, SO MAYBE I have some unsatisfied maternal genes somewhere inside. Once again, I took great pleasure in holding a small bottle for a hungry little wolflet.
    Beside me, also sitting on not-so-comfortable seats in the enclosure off the infirmary’s kitchen, were that same diligent Jon Doe and young Krissy, each also feeding a pup.
    Too bad my hands were otherwise occupied. I’d have taken my cell phone from the bottom of my large purse and snapped a photo of our amazingly sweet activity.
    “How often do you have to take care of newborn wild animals here?” I asked Jon, to make conversation.
    “Not very,” he said softly, hugging the pup in his lap. “Fortunately, even while in captivity, most wild mothers take good care of their offspring. And we’ve been really lucky that our animals after giving birth generally remain in good health.”
    “I helped with a baby bird not long ago,” Krissy chimed in. “A little hawk, whose mother was shot by some miserable hunter.” She, too, held her small charge close and looked at home here.
    “HotWildlife is lucky to have devoted folks like you to help out,” I said as Dante came in. Gloriously handsome as always, he looked windblown despite the stillness of the air. I again assumed he’d been busy scoping out the sanctuary for further clues on the apparent wolf abduction. At this point, after no sightings, we no longer imagined mama wolf had left her babies voluntarily to head out for a hunt.
    Dante and I were on the same wavelength in other ways, too. He whipped his cell phone out of his pocket and took a couple of photos. “This is one great scene. Maybe we can use it to help publicize HotWildlife and get even more volunteers.”
    “Great idea!” exclaimed Krissy. She beamed an awe-struck smile in his direction.
    “I agree,” I said. “Adding volunteers, I mean. Poor Jon, here, is making sure everything else he needs to do gets done, in addition to his care of the wolf pups. Extra assistance would be good.”
    Jon nodded and gave a modest smile while checking the bottle in his wolf baby’s mouth.
    But Dante didn’t appear especially impressed. In fact, he seemed somewhat dour. I figured he was as worried about mama wolf as the rest of us, and hadn’t fully taken in my approbation of the busy HotWildlife employee in our midst.
    “There’s other help on the way, too,” Dante said. “A good friend of mine, Brody Avilla, really likes animals. He’s coming to help look for our missing wolf.”
    “ The Brody Avilla?” Krissy seemed extra impressed.