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look like a plump Persian cat, but underneath, she was all panther: cold, calculating, and ruthless. She reminded Luis of his mother.

He nodded toward the labs. “And what about all the equipment? The government paid for it—they’re bound to want it back.”

“We’ll tell the staff we’re moving to larger quarters. We’ll give everyone the summer off and put the equipment in storage. Henri and I will . . . take a holiday. Someplace no one expects. How do they call it? ‘Off the grid’?” She twitched a feline smile. “If the army is determined to close us down and recover the equipment, they’ll have to find us first.”

Luis raised a brow. “How long do you think you can keep out of sight? As soon as either of you uses a charge card or a cellphone, you’re traceable.” The idea of Anjou forgoing restaurants and comfortable hotels was laughable.

“We’ll manage. It won’t take long for a ‘save the mammoths’ movement to begin. But the first step is to move the mammoths to the wild.”

“All right.” Luis drummed his fingers on the desk, thinking of the logistics of moving the herd six weeks earlier than he’d planned. “I’ll call the trucking company. Brandon can round up the camping gear . . .”

“About Brandon . . .” Ginger cocked her head like a chubby sparrow. “I know he’s your friend, but we’d like to keep the mammoths’ location secret.”

“Sorry, I need Brandon.” As her eyebrows rose, he added, “Not just for personal reasons, but for safety. I’m not experienced in wilderness camping. He is. It wouldn’t be smart for me to go charging off, hundreds of miles from the nearest town or doctor, without some backup.”

Ginger nodded. “Very well. But you must keep our funding difficulties confidential, even from him.”

Luis waved away the concern. “Don’t worry. I can handle Brandon.” Their relationship had about run its course anyway.

“I’m sure you can,” Ginger said sweetly. “One more thing—Silver and Gold will not go with the rest of the herd.”

Luis’s head jerked up. “Why?” All the females had been impregnated with Anjou’s specially engineered embryos. Most were only a few weeks along, but Silver and Gold were both halfway through a year-long pregnancy.

“It’s always wise to have a backup plan,” Ginger said. “We’ll move Silver and Gold to someplace out of the way. Should there be difficulties with deploying the main herd for any reason, we’ll have two mammoths and the calves they are carrying as the core of a new herd.”

“Not ideal,” Luis mused. “But I suppose it’s a reasonable precaution.”

It occurred to Luis that with the project’s funding in jeopardy, he needed a backup plan, too.

He fixed Ginger with a steely stare. “So, the mammoths go into the wild while you and Anjou hide out until the government sees the light and reinstates the project. In the meantime, what am I supposed to do?”

Ginger blinked, eyes wide. “My dear friend, this will be only a temporary setback, I’m sure. As soon as the funding is restored, we’ll be in touch.”

Luis wasn’t quite that naive. Ginger’s loyalty was to Anjou, and Anjou’s only loyalty was to making himself rich and famous.

“I want six months’ pay,” Luis said, “in advance, for both me and Brandon.” Their relationship wouldn’t last six months, but if Brandon had a financial cushion, he’d be less resistant to the coming breakup.

Ginger’s smile wavered. “We can give you three months, through the end of the summer.”

“Not enough. Six months, and in the bank by tomorrow—or your mammoths stay here.”

After a pause, Ginger nodded. “Very well. How soon can you leave?”

Luis ran through his mental to-do list: hiring livestock carriers for transporting the mammoths; stocking the trucks with food and water for the overnight journey to a carefully selected drop-off point; and packing everything he and Brandon would need to spend up to three weeks in the bush guiding the herd to the target location.

Releasing the mammoths to the wild was the goal Luis had worked toward for years, but the moment would be bittersweet—saying goodbye to the family Luis loved better than his own.

Luis sighed. “Give me five days. We’ll be ready.”

CHAPTER 3

The uselessness of being sorry

On the patio of a scenic lodge nestled among Alaska’s Wrangell Mountains, Estelle Dupris glared at her niece, ignoring both their cooling coffee and the majestic vista of snow-capped peaks. Like a mirror from twenty years ago, Serafina reflected Estelle’s own bronze Creole coloring, upturned eyes, and delicate chin—and the stubborn set to her jaw.

Estelle banged her mug onto the table. “You planned this all along, didn’t you? ‘Go visit Aunt Estelle, do some sightseeing’—and all the time you were planning not to go back to New Orleans?”

Blast the girl. When Sera had arrived in Fairbanks with three huge suitcases for a two-week visit, Estelle had just assumed she’d overpacked like a typical teenager, imagining Alaska would be freezing even in June.

Sera ducked her chin and sucked her lower lip. Estelle felt a pang of pain—Marie used to look just the same when Estelle caught her little sister trying on her clothes or sneaking a peek at her diary.

“I didn’t exactly lie,” Sera said. “I did want to see Alaska. I didn’t say anything earlier because I wanted to see if we’d get along—and we do! Please. I won’t be any trouble.”

No trouble? Just when Estelle had been congratulating herself on being a good auntie. She’d played tour guide, showing the seventeen-year-old the high points of Fairbanks. They’d visited the Museum of the North and admired the huge blossoms and giant vegetables at the University of Alaska’s botanical garden. They’d stood in line at Hot Licks for the city’s best ice cream. They’d strolled through Pioneer Park till midnight to watch the sun go down, leaving a dusk barely dark enough

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