Safe At Home
Carolyn McSparren
His "big" family is getting biggerEveryone in Hollandale, Tennessee, has heard of Dr. Pete Jacobi but they don't know much about the man. Pete keeps to himself and his family–the three full-grown elephants who roam the sanctuary he built for them. Then one night Tala Newsome needs his help, and Pete finds himself falling for the courageous widow.But loving Tala means accepting a whole bunch of Newsomes–Tala's two lively kids, her bossy mother-in-law and her eccentric grandmother-in-law.Suddenly Pete and his "girls" are learning the REAL meaning of family.
She needed sleep badly
Tala Newsome knew that Dr. Pete Jacobi and his father had probably forgotten all about her. They were engrossed in their task—saving the life of the lion.
She leaned her head back against the bars and closed her eyes. She felt the gentlest caress on the top of her head. She blinked and yawned. The two men were still hard at work halfway across the big room.
There it was again. A fairy’s breath that ruffled her hair slightly. She rubbed her hand over her head and felt the bars behind her. Must be her imagination. She relaxed again, and a moment later felt a tug on her hair. She reached behind her and felt…
She stifled a scream, jumped up and spun around. An elephant’s trunk extended through the bars behind her. She froze as it slid gently over her face, down her cheek, then patted her shoulder as if to console her.
She gulped, moved back four paces and realized that she was looking into the faces of three large gray lumps clustered on the other side of the bars. Three elephants stood shoulder to shoulder, swinging their trunks gently back and forth.
“Hello, girls.” Tala heard the affection in Pete’s voice. “Just let me finish here and I’ll introduce you.”
Dear Reader,
What would you do if your truck nearly struck a wounded African lion on a country road at two in the morning? Not in deepest Africa, mind you, but in the Tennessee hills. I’d probably lock the doors and do a fast U-turn, but the heroine of Safe at Home has a stronger spirit. By morning she’s not only nursing the lion, but baby-sitting a trio of opinionated elephants, as well.
All because she needs help from a grumpy veterinarian who prefers animals to human beings.
Dr. Pete Jacobi doesn’t want Tala Newsome around his elephant sanctuary. She disturbs his mind and reawakens his heart to feelings he’s denied.
If that isn’t bad enough, widowed Tala comes complete with a son, a nearly adolescent daughter, an outrageous grandmother-in-law and a tough mother-in-law—none of whom intend to let some scruffy vet within a mile of Tala. Pete can’t cope with himself, much less an entire family.
Tala’s not coping very well, either. She’s broke, unable to understand her kids, trying to live up to her in-laws and fulfill her promise to her dead husband. Falling in love with Pete Jacobi is the last complication she needs.
But love doesn’t give a hoot about timing….
I hope you enjoy Pete and Tala’s story—and, of course, the elephants—Sophie, Sweetie Pie and Belle.
Carolyn McSparren
Safe at Home
Carolyn McSparren
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For the wonderful people at Y.E.A.R., the Yoknapatawpha
Exotic Animal Refuge, for bringing me nose to nose with
lions and tigers (pretty scary), and for The Elephant
Sanctuary who told me about the logistics of keeping
elephants. Any errors are mine, not theirs.
For Bruce Bowling, a veterinarian who puts up with
4:00 a.m. emergency calls.
Last but not least, for the nationwide large animal sanctuary
system that provides a peaceful retirement for some of
mankind’s rejects.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#uede47994-0171-5996-878b-5e0de04318c1)
CHAPTER TWO (#u98065da3-f255-5384-a88f-f52ea559df37)
CHAPTER THREE (#ub01702cf-bcf6-5599-8da0-28cd88eba1f7)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
SOMETHING TRIGGERED the alarm on the front gate. Pete Jacobi jerked awake, narrowed his eyes at the lighted alarm clock beside his bed. Two-thirteen in the morning. He’d been asleep less than three hours.
He groaned and raised his head. Icy rain still thrummed against his bedroom window. The powerful halogen motion detectors mounted under the eaves and by the front gate shattered the droplets into prisms.
If that was some local teenager trying to sneak in to test his nerve against the elephants, he’d picked the wrong weather for it. The girls were undoubtedly snoring contentedly in their enclosure. Or would have been until the noise woke them. They’d be pretty grumpy if any spotty adolescent kid from Hollendale tried to hoo-raw them tonight.
During the summer the girls often roamed the east Tennessee hills of the sanctuary most of the night, but they didn’t like really cold weather. Although when the trees started to ice up, and Pete tried to insist that they wear their earmuffs, they’d pay little attention to him. If they wanted them off, off they’d come.
He swung out of bed, jerked on the jeans he’d thrown on the floor, thrust his bare feet into the muddy rubber boots he’d dropped beside them. “Damn!” he snarled as his cold toes met the even colder rubber.
The lights and alarms should have spooked any normal intruder home to Hollendale by now. Pete shut off the alarm and heard in its place the insistent burping of the intercom he’d installed at the gate a couple of months earlier. Someone was still out there. He hit the talk switch. “Yeah?”
The voice that answered him was female and full of concern. “Please, you’ve got to help her! She’s bleeding.”
He jerked fully awake. “I’m a vet, not a doctor.”
“I need a vet. I’ve got to get her inside. She’s so cold already, I’m afraid she’ll die on the way to town. I think somebody shot her.”
He ran his hand over his hair and blinked to clear his eyes. “Okay, okay, lady. Relax. I’ll come open the gate.” He yanked his wet poncho from the hook beside the door and pulled it on over his shoulders. It felt as though he’d jumped into a vat of raw oysters. He took a deep breath, pulled open the office door and sprinted for the high-wire gates. His feet slipped and threw globs of mud onto his legs at every step.
She was hanging on to the far side of the gate with both hands. The moment she saw him, she turned and climbed into the front seat of a small pickup truck and slammed the door.
He clicked the padlock loose and began to pull the tall wire gates open. “Tomorrow I’m ordering an electric gate opener,” he snarled into the teeth of the wind. He wouldn’t, of course. Any extra money went to feed his girls, not to make his life easier.
The moment he’d shoved the left-hand gate open far enough for her to squeeze the pickup through, she floored the thing. He’d been intending to climb into the passenger seat beside her. Instead, her tires threw up a wall of icy muck that hit him square in the face. He yelped.
“Thanks a bunch!” he called after her as he closed the gate and hooked the open padlock over the hasp. He wiped his face with one hand and strode back to the office. She’d slammed on her brakes and now stood beside the bed of the truck. She was wearing a dark parka with the hood pulled forward over her face. He could tell nothing about her except that she was maybe five foot six and slim.
“Help me. I can’t move her.”
He leaned over the back of the truck expecting to see whatever dog or possum or coon she’d run over with her car. His mouth fell open. He turned to the woman. “Is she yours?”
“No. I found her on the road. She’s so still. She’s not dead, is she?”
He reached a tentative hand next to the animal’s rib cage. He felt a flutter. “She’s alive, but I don’t know for how long.” Without glancing at the woman, he said, “Go around the side of the building to the parking area and in through the small door. Inside you’ll find a button that raises the overhead door. I’ll drive her in.”
He realized as the woman started away that if she disappeared at this moment he would have no idea what she looked like or who she was.
He spun the tires getting the truck started, then moved it toward the growing oblong of light as the door lifted. He drove into the cavernous room, turned off the engine and stepped out of the truck. “Okay, close the door,” he said. “Sleet’s getting in.”
She punched the button again, and the door began to lower. He jabbed at the intercom button on the telephone mounted on the wall beside him.
“There’s no time to call anybody,” she said urgently.
He waved her away. After a moment, a sleepy voice answered.
“Dad?” he said. “Throw on some clothes and get over here fast. Bullet wound. No, the elephants are fine.” Pete glanced at the truck. “You are not going to believe this. Some crazy woman’s just dragged in a half-grown female African lion.”
“OKAY, BOY, what’s all this about a lioness?” Mace Jacobi slammed the door to the parking area behind him, shucked his parka and gloves and walked over to the pickup truck.
“Take a look,” Pete said. He’d hung his poncho beside the side door and slipped into a sweatshirt. He knelt on the lowered tailgate. “Can you believe this?”
Mace peered over his son’s shoulder. “Well, I’ll be damned!” He turned to the woman who hung over the side of the truck. Her fingers gently caressed the golden pelt of the animal. “She yours?”
“No. I almost ran over her on the road. At first I thought she was a big yellow dog, but the tail was too long, and she didn’t move like a dog. Then she turned and looked at me and her eyes went red in the headlights and…” She took a deep breath. “She just keeled over. I jammed on the brakes and slid all over the road. Almost wound up going over the side of Bryson’s Hollow.”
“Bryson’s Hollow?” Pete asked. “What’s a lone woman doing driving the Hollow road this time of night?”
“I live down there. Please, there’s no time for this. Can you help her?”
“Got to get her out of this truck and onto the examining table,” Pete said. “Can’t do it alone. Don’t know how you managed it.”
“I carry a big piece of plywood in the back of my truck. I dragged her onto it and used my trailer winch to haul her up.”
“Madam,” Mace said formally, “I take my hat off to you.”
“She could have bitten your head off,” Pete said. “Come on, Dad, she can’t weigh more than a couple of hundred pounds.”
“More or less. Madam, please be so good as to position your truck so that the rear end backs up to that steel table over there. No sense in carrying her farther than we have to.”
Five minutes later, Pete and Mace Jacobi had the unconscious cat on the steel table. She was limp, but the heavy bones and sinews of her body looked like steel cables under her fur.
“What can I do?” the woman asked.
“You’ve done your part,” Pete answered. “Dad, better get a full syringe of ACE ready in case she starts to come around. She’s going to be pretty pissed off when she does.”
“If she does,” Mace said as he slid his stethoscope onto the animal’s rib cage.
Pete gently probed the blood-matted pelt on her shoulder. “Doesn’t seemed to have nicked any major vessels, and it’s so damned hog-killing cold, the bleeding’s pretty much stopped. Somebody shot her all right. No obvious exit wound. Bullet must still be in there.”
“I’ll get the X ray.” Pete turned and nearly fell over the woman. “Why don’t you go sit down back there out of the way and let us work.”
She backed off as Pete rolled a heavy piece of steel equipment out of a cabinet in the corner by the office door.
“Listen, I can’t keep calling you lady. You got a name?”
“Newsome. Tala Newsome.”
Tala? Odd name. He wasn’t certain he’d heard her correctly. But Newsome he recognized. The Newsomes owned most of the county and half the businesses in Hollendale. Irene Newsome was on the county council Mace had dealt with when he built the sanctuary.
Tala Newsome shoved back the hood of her parka and began to unzip it. Her long black braid was soaked and hair stuck to her cheeks in pencil-thin tendrils. Her nose was red, her cheeks and lips denim blue. And her eyes…
He stopped in midstride as her eyes hit him like a cannon shot. Then his father’s voice jerked him back to the present.
“Don’t stand there, boy. She’s starting to warm up. Don’t need her jumping up and tearing our heads off.”
TALA SANK into a wooden kitchen chair propped against the metal bars that closed off the back section of the enormous room. The moment she sat down she realized how tired she was and how badly her shoulders ached.
Even without the lioness, the drive out to the farmhouse in Bryson’s Hollow was no picnic. After midnight with winter sleet pelting the road, it was downright treacherous. Nights like this she wished she still lived in town with Irene, Vertie and the kids.
But she couldn’t—not permanently. She’d tried staying in the big old Newsome mansion after Adam died, but as wonderful as Vertie and Irene were, she’d felt as if by leaving the farmhouse she’d somehow broken her last connection to her dead husband. She needed to be in Bryson’s Hollow for now. Maybe someday she could move on, but not now, not yet. Not with so much unfinished business and so many promises to keep.
Besides, if she’d stayed with the Newsomes tonight, she’d never have found the lion.
She blinked her eyes, shook her head to clear it, and watched the two men working in the circle of light over the steel table. The rest of the storeroom, or hospital, or whatever it was, lay in shadow.
The younger one, Pete, was doing the surgery. She’d known he was here, of course. The whole town knew about the elephant sanctuary, but she’d never seen him, not even at the grocery store.
He had a good face, a strong jaw and crinkles at the corners of his eyes. At the moment they looked more like frown lines than laugh lines, but he might have a nice smile if he ever bothered to use it.
Of course, who wouldn’t be grouchy being dragged out of bed at two in the morning in a sleet storm?
His father wasn’t grouchy, though. He’d been woken up as well, but he’d spoken kindly to Tala. He was almost courtly, and he’d taken time to smooth his iron-gray hair and beard. But then, Tala hadn’t given Dr. Pete Jacobi time to do much except throw on his clothes.
He looked a great deal like his father, only bigger. Much bigger. Like a professional football player. Or a big, brown grizzly. And when he’d stripped off that wet poncho, he had real muscles, and lots of chest hair. Broad shoulders…kind of a hunk…
In the semidarkness where she sat, she felt her eyelids grow heavy and jerked awake.
She ought to open the overhead door and drive back out into the night. She’d done all she could do for the cat, and she’d worked a double shift at the Food Farm tonight.
She needed sleep badly. She could simply unhook the padlock on the front gate and close it after her. The younger Dr. Jacobi hadn’t actually locked the thing, merely hooked it over the hasp. The men probably wouldn’t even notice she’d gone.
Except that the minute that door began to lift, the wind and rain would whip in again. And one of them would have to leave what he was doing to close it behind her.
Excuses. What she really wanted—needed—was to stay until they finished, until they could tell her whether or not the cat would live. She couldn’t bear the thought that it might die.
She’d been through too much death.
She leaned her head back against the bars behind her and closed her eyes. In an instant Adam’s face swam up from her subconscious. Didn’t often happen nowadays. She’d almost forgotten what having a husband was like, the sound of his laughter, the warmth of his arms around her…
She felt the gentlest caress on the top of her head as though someone had picked up a hank of hair between thumb and index finger. She blinked her eyes and yawned. The two men still worked halfway across the big room.
There it was again. A fairy’s breath that ruffled her hair slightly. She rubbed her hand over her head and felt the bars behind her. Imagination. Too little sleep. Too much excitement. She relaxed again, and a moment later felt a tug on her hair. She reached behind her and felt…
She stifled a scream, jumped up and spun around. An elephant’s trunk extended through the bars behind her. She froze. It slid gently over her face, down her cheek, then patted her shoulder, almost as though consoling her.
She gulped, moved slowly back four paces, and realized that she was looking into the faces of three large gray lumps clustered on the other side of the bars. There were six concerned eyes, not two.
The elephants stood shoulder to shoulder, swinging their trunks gently back and forth. She hadn’t heard them approach—not a single footfall or shuffle on the concrete floor of what must be their cage. Where had they come from? Dark as it was, she could swear they hadn’t been there earlier when she sat down.
She felt a sough of wind against her face. Around the corner of the enclosure in deep darkness she saw some kind of heavy plastic sway slightly. It looked like the barrier at a car wash. She fought down a giggle. She’d seen dog doors and cat doors, but never an elephant door.
The center elephant, by far the largest, with skin as heavily wrinkled as a hundred-year-old crone, reached out to her again. This time Tala put her palm up so that she could feel its soft breath on her fingertips. She reached out her other hand and stroked the long gray nose tentatively.
She felt her eyes begin to well with tears.
“Got the blasted thing!” Pete Jacobi shouted. Tala jumped, the elephants snuffled and swung away. The moment was over.
She turned to the light. Pete held up a round object in a pair of steel forceps. “Looks heavy—.357 Magnum at a guess. Came from a fair distance, otherwise there’d be more damage and one hell of an exit wound. Good thing it wasn’t a rifle. What nut would go after a lion with a handgun?”
“For that matter,” Mace answered, his head bent, his gloved hands busy with the wound, “who’d have a lion around here to go after in the first place?”
Pete turned to look at Tala and smiled. She felt her heart turn over. His eyes really did crinkle at the corners, and he had a nice, wide mouth. She started to smile back when she realized he was looking past her.
“Hello, girls,” he said. “Not real thrilled at the sleet?”
She heard an answering snuffle and stomp. “Let me get this wound closed and I’ll introduce you,” he said. Whether he planned to introduce her to the elephants or the elephants to her, she wasn’t entirely certain. She suspected his priorities were elephants first, human beings second.
Tala knew no more than anyone in Hollendale knew about the two veterinarians. She’d seen Mace buying groceries at the Food Farm, but she’d never actually met him, although Irene liked him.
Apparently the younger one seldom went outside the sanctuary, and when he did, he pointedly ignored any effort to make friends. A real sourpuss, her mother-in-law had called him.
But watching his fingers as he worked over the big cat, Tala knew she’d been right to stop here, instead of driving the lion into town to Dr. Wiskowski’s clinic. The way this vet smiled at his girls proved he wasn’t a sourpuss with animals.
“Have you thought what we’re going to do with her?” Mace asked his son. “We’re certainly not set up for big cats, and she’s got to be under constant supervision.”
“One thing at a time, Dad.” Pete’s hands made gestures over the cat’s shoulder. “While I’m closing, better give her a massive shot of antibiotics,” he said.
“Right.” Mace went to a drug cabinet along the wall, pulled a small key off a hook beside it, opened the cabinet and rooted among the bottles and jars. He held one up and squinted at it over the tops of his bifocals. “This ought to do.” Then he pulled a large syringe from a drawer under the cabinet and filled it with milky liquid from the bottle. He returned the remaining medication, carefully locked the cabinet again and hung the key beside it.
Mace held up a small piece of the lioness’s fur and slid the needle sideways into her neck. She didn’t stir.
“Shouldn’t she be waking up?” Tala asked.
“Bite your tongue,” Mace said.
“The longer she’s out of it, the safer for everybody,” Pete added. “I’d prefer not to give her anything to put her under again if I can help it. Her heartbeat’s a little weak. Big cats can lose a fair amount of blood without too much danger, but we have no way of knowing how much she bled before you found her, and it’s not as though we’ve got a handy donor to give her a transfusion.”
Mace peered down at the animal. “Neat. Couldn’t have done better myself. Okay, now what?”
“I’ve still got that old dog kennel you used for the beagles,” Pete said. “Won’t hold her if she decides to climb out over the top, but with that shoulder, I don’t think she’ll feel much like moving for a couple of days. We can hook it together in a few minutes, put down some blankets and a water dish and close up the room.”
“And pray she doesn’t wake up and destroy the place.”
Pete glanced at Tala. “You have any idea what you were getting into?”
“No. But I probably would have done it anyway,” she said. “Only I don’t know how I’ll pay you…”
“Don’t sweat it,” Mace said, smiling at her over the tops of his glasses. “Don’t often get a chance these days to work on a big cat. Kind of miss it.”
“We’ll work something out,” Pete said.
Mace turned to his son. “Come on, boy, let’s find those kennel panels.”
“Can I help?” Tala asked.
“Nope. Climb into your truck and shut the doors in case she wakes up before we get back. Leave the windows up.”
“She wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Yeah. Right,” Pete said, and looked down at the cat. “Let’s get her on the ground before we leave. Don’t want her coming to and falling off the table onto the concrete.”
“Get a blanket. We can lay her on that and then slide her onto it when we get the cage set up,” Mace said.
Thirty minutes later all three of them grabbed the blanket and slid the cat into the kennel. It was six feet high and built of sturdy steel cyclone fencing, but it had no cover, nor was it anchored to the concrete. One good bash by a large furry body could send it crashing to the floor.
At the moment, however, the cat slept. Pete filled a plastic bucket with water, set it in the corner of the pen and securely fastened the door to the enclosure behind him. “Keep your fingers crossed,” he said.
“You better get on home,” Mace told Tala kindly. “It’s nearly four in the morning. Your folks’ll be worried about you. Want to call them before you leave?”
“No one will miss me,” she said, and realized how pitiful she sounded. “I mean, I live alone at the moment.” She fought a yawn. She was suddenly desperately tired, so tired her knees started to give way.
She felt a sinewy arm around her waist, and grasped Pete’s shoulder.
“Hey! Don’t pass out now!” he snapped.
“She’s out on her feet,” Mace said. “No way can you drive home, my dear. Not along the Hollow road.” He turned to his son. “She’d better bed down here for a few hours.”
“Here?”
She pulled away from him. “I’ll be fine.”
“No, Dad’s right. You’re punchy. You’ve got no business driving as far as the gate.” Pete walked off toward the door at the front of the room. “Come on. You can have the sofa. I’d give you the bed, but I’ve messed it up already, and you fit on the sofa better than I would.”
“I couldn’t—I’ve—you’ve…”
“I won’t attack you.”
“Better take him up on it,” Mace said, and kneaded her shoulder gently. “I’ll fix you one of my special caffeine bombs in the morning. That’ll keep you awake until Christmas.”
She glanced at the lioness. “Do you think maybe she might wake up before I have to leave?”
“Maybe.”
That decided her. She nodded.
“You go on,” Mace said. “I’ll back your truck out and leave it outside by the front door with the keys in it. Don’t want claw marks on it if she gets out.”
“Right,” Pete said.
“Oh, and Pete, if you do somehow manage to sleep in, I’ll feed the girls in the morning and check on our patient. I’ll wake you if I need you,” Mace said.
Pete hunkered down a moment beside the cat, whose great pink tongue lolled between long, white teeth. “She’ll probably wake us up early. If she starts mouthing off inside these metal walls, it’s gonna sound like the hallelujah chorus.”
Mace yawned and opened the door of Tala’s truck. “Whatever happens to her now, my dear, take it from me, you did a fine job.”
Pete shepherded her through the door in the far wall that led down a short hall to his quarters.
“What a sweet man,” she said when the door closed behind them.
“Tell that to the vet students he’s terrorized over the years.”
“Vet students?”
“Yeah. He taught veterinary medicine for twenty-five years. Lived and breathed it. Now he’s retired, he’s terrorizing me.” Pete opened a closet door and pulled out blankets, bedding and a pillow. “Now, we have to get you out of those wet clothes.”
“I just want a flat place to lie down before I fall down,” she said, looking around. The small living room obviously also served both as office and kitchen.
The gray tweed couch was plenty long enough, but from the looks of it, was nearly as old as the doctor himself. At this point, however, lumpy mattresses were the least of her concerns.
“You can have one of my old sweatshirts.” Pete looked her up and down. “Probably come down to your knees. And I keep fresh toothbrushes in the guest bathroom.”
For unexpected female overnight guests, no doubt. The ones who did not sleep on the couch. Although if he was as gracious to them as he’d been to her, she doubted he’d have many takers. “You’re very kind.”
He seemed to withdraw instantly from her small compliment. He tossed the bedding onto the sofa, disappeared into his bedroom, and a moment later tossed a gray sweatshirt on top of the pile. “Here. The guest bathroom’s down the hall. You passed it on the way in. Fresh towels under the sink.”
“Thank you.”
“G’night,” he said and shut his bedroom door. Not quite a slam, but close.
She made up her bed, stripped off her wet clothes in the bathroom and slipped on the sweatshirt. It had shrunk so short it barely covered her crotch, but was so big through the chest and so long in the arms that she probably resembled one of his “girls.” She waved a gray arm at the mirror like a trunk and considered trumpeting, but thought better of it. She didn’t think he’d be amused.
She tried to wring some of the water out of her long braid, pulled off the rubber band that held it and loosened her hair with her fingers. Come morning it would look as though rats had taken up residence, but at least it would be dry.
She realized she had left her purse with her comb inside her truck. It could darned well stay there. She’d retrieve it tomorrow morning.
She crawled onto the couch, snuggled down and listened to the rain drum on the windows.
She’d get up early and drive to the Newsome mansion in time to have breakfast with Vertie, Irene and the kids. She could hardly wait to tell them her wild story. Surely even thirteen-year-old Rachel couldn’t act blasé about a real live lion. Eight-year-old Cody would probably beg to skip school and drive right back to the sanctuary to see for himself. Her children thought she was pretty boring. If this didn’t make her at least a little interesting, nothing would.
She heard something more like a cough than a roar from that big room. Tala was up and through the door before she gave a thought to what might be waiting for her on the other side.
The lioness eased herself up on her good right paw and raised her head as she let out another half roar.
Tala dropped to her knees beside the kennel and laid a tentative hand flat against the wire mesh, ready to snatch it away. Instead, the cat butted her forehead against the mesh, for all the world like a house cat. “Hello, baby,” Tala crooned as she worked her fingers through the mesh to scratch behind the lioness’s ears. The animal rewarded her with a low thrumming sound.
“Are you nuts?” Pete Jacobi said from behind her.
“Look, she’s awake,” Tala said softly.
The lioness sat up and bared her teeth at Pete.
“Get out of there!” He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet, then practically dragged her back through the door. Suddenly he seemed to realize he was holding a barefoot woman wearing nothing but a pair of lace underpants and his old sweatshirt. He dropped his hands and backed off, although she could have sworn that the look he gave her legs was appreciative.
A moment later he was his old grim self. “Woman, don’t you go through that door again under any circumstances. You hear me? The next time she could be sitting on top of the file cabinet waiting to bite your head off.”
“But—”
“Listen,” he said as though she were about three years old. “That is a lion in there. An L-I-O-N. It is not some big old pussycat. It is a carnivorous wild animal, and it’s hurt. It doesn’t know why it’s hurt or who hurt it, and it will not differentiate between the good guys and the bad. You, lady, are not its rescuer, you are breakfast. Are we clear on that?”
“But—”
“Are we clear?”
She nodded.
“Now go to bed and let me get a couple of hours’ sleep. And if she roars again, stick your head under the pillow and ignore her.”
But Tala found herself straining to hear another of those chuffing sounds.
After about five minutes of quiet, she began to drift off. The last face to swim into her consciousness was not Adam’s, but Pete Jacobi’s, his fierce amber eyes glowing out of a craggy face that seemed to morph into the face of a male lion with a heavy mane in place of his unruly hair. The face opened its mouth, but instead of that momentary smile she’d seen when he looked at the elephants, she saw only very long and very sharp teeth. The better to eat you with, my dear, she thought as sleep finally claimed her.
CHAPTER TWO
PETE JACOBI WAS HALFWAY through his morning shower before he remembered the woman asleep on the sofa. He must be in a bad way if he’d forgotten even for an instant the sight of those great legs sticking out from under his baggy old shirt. Very sexy. Much sexier than if she’d been naked.
Well, maybe not. Might be interesting to compare. He grinned at his reflection and arched an eyebrow at himself. Yeah.
Once she stopped looking like a drowned possum she’d turned into a good-looking woman. But too thin. Still, she either had gumption—or no brains at all.
He dressed as quietly at he could and opened the bedroom door. He half expected her to be up and gone. He hoped she wasn’t. It would be nice if she stayed long enough for a cup of coffee and for him to check out his perceptions about her from last night. He wanted to see whether those big dark eyes were as stunning as he remembered.
From his door he saw one very shapely leg and bare foot sticking out from under a pile of quilts on the couch, and a cloud of long, heavy black hair spread over the other end of the quilt and falling almost to the floor. Somewhere between the two, the owner of hair and leg slept on.
Her right hand lay draped over the arm of the couch. The hand was thin and almost too fine-boned. Her nails were short and unvarnished, but well kept. He realized with a pang that he hadn’t noticed whether she wore a wedding ring or not, and suddenly hoped that she didn’t.
Pete shook his head, surprised at himself for his interest in her. He tiptoed past the couch and opened the door to the back room silently, then slipped through.
The lioness lay on her right side with her bandaged shoulder up. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth gaped. Her tongue lolled from the corner of her mouth.
For a panicky moment he was afraid she wasn’t breathing, then he saw the slow rise and fall of her rib cage.
“Morning, son,” said a voice behind him. “Gave her another shot for pain. She has been sleeping the sleep of the innocent and pure of heart for some time. Where’s your lady friend?”
“Doing the same, although she might not be so pure and innocent if she’s driving country roads alone at two in the morning.”
Mace Jacobi grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “What’s that old song about preferring the sadder but wiser girl? Especially one as good-looking as that.”
“Too scrawny. I didn’t know there was a New-some daughter.”
“There isn’t. Irene Newsome lost her only child more than a year ago. He was something fairly high up in the Fish and Wildlife. Supposedly shot by a poacher. Had a wife and a couple of kids. That’s probably his widow you’ve got on your couch.” Mace slapped a couple of white-wrapped packages on the steel table, looked at them over his bifocals and began to unwrap them. “I haven’t had time to feed the girls yet.”
“No problem. I’ll do it.” Pete hooked a bale of alfalfa and carried it toward the elephant enclosure. The girls waited impatiently, trunks swinging, their beady black eyes expectant. “What are you doing, Dad?” he asked on his way by.
“I started thawing a couple of deer-neck roasts last night. Thought I’d carve ’em up for Tala’s baby over there. She’s going to be mighty hungry when she wakes up.”
“If she wakes up.”
Mace peered at him over his glasses. “Oh, she’ll wake up, all right. You did a good job. Every bit as good as I was at your age.”
Pete broke the wires on the alfalfa and tossed fat green flakes through the bars for his girls. “Good morning, girls,” he said with affection. They looked down their trunks at him. Once again he was aware of how differently they responded to Mace. They were much warmer toward his father. Pete seemed to have lost his “trunkside manner.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep so long,” came a soft voice from behind him. Amazingly, his girls raised their heads in unison and lifted their trunks toward the voice. They never greeted him like that.
He’d long since realized that elephants were a whole lot more perceptive than human beings. The girls were aware of his fondness for them, but no matter how well he fed, scrubbed, pampered and babied them, they still treated him with a kind of offhand exasperation. Maybe they sensed his unhappiness—his guilt over past mistakes. Maybe one day they’d decide he’d made the grade and grant him their complete trust and affection.
“You were exhausted, m’dear,” said Mace without looking up from the meat cleaver in his hands. “As soon as I get this done, we’ll go over to my trailer and I’ll make us all a good hot breakfast. The coffee’s already on.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. I’ve already—”
“Nonsense,” Mace rumbled. “My pancakes are legendary.” He peered over his glasses at her. “You could use some honey and maple syrup.”
Tala went to the lioness’s cage and hunkered down. “How is she?” she whispered.
“As well as can be expected,” Pete answered. “Dad doped her up again for the pain.”
She put her left hand against the wire mesh and caressed the lioness gently. “Sweet Baby,” she said. The lioness rumbled softly.
She wore no wedding ring. Pete was surprised at the relief he felt. Then as he leaned forward he saw that she wore a gold chain around her neck. Two gold bands, one larger and wider than the other, hung on the chain. Her wedding ring? Her dead husband’s? He sighed.
Not that he was looking for a relationship. Not after Val. His heart lurched at the memory of Val, and his never-ending guilt.
Her fingers toyed gently with the pelt on the lioness’s head. Pete took a deep breath at the thought of those fingers curling in the heavy mat of hair on his chest. He set his jaw, furious with himself that he’d allowed even that momentary distraction.
After a moment, Tala stood up easily and gracefully, something not many women could do from that kind of position.
Pete realized he was staring. No, glaring was more like it. She was too thin, all right, but definitely stood out in the right places. She’d plaited her dark hair into a single braid that hung down her back almost to her waist. The overhead light cut shadows under her strong cheekbones. Showed the circles under her eyes as well, unfortunately.
She smiled at him tentatively. “I folded the bed-clothes and the shirt and put them on the foot of your bed,” she said.
He rumbled something at her. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her eyes. He’d never seen eyes that dark or that wide on a human being. They tilted at the corners, and even without makeup her lashes swept her cheeks.
“Last night you said you’d introduce me,” she said and walked over to him. She moved like a dancer. Maybe she’d been a dancer at one time. Could be that was the reason she was so thin.
“Sure.” Why did he always sound so abrupt when he spoke to her? “Sophie is on the right, the one in back is Sweetiepie, and the big one is Belle.”
“She’s the one that patted my head with her trunk last night and nearly scared me witless,” Tala said, smiling over his shoulder.
He gaped at her. “She touched you?”
“Through the bars. Very gently. I knew you had elephants, of course, but I didn’t know how many, and I hadn’t seen them before. I was half-asleep in that old kitchen chair pushed right up against them. I didn’t realize it was their cage.”
He bristled. “They’re not caged. Not any longer.”
“I loved it.” She leaned against the bars. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Should have seen them when they got here,” he said. “Skin and bones.”
Mace looked up over the tops of his glasses. “The bars are to keep them from investigating—actually I mean destroying—this room. Elephants are endlessly curious. Unfortunately, they are also incredibly destructive while they’re about it.”
“But last night, Belle touched me so gently.”
“She wasn’t interested in seeing the inside of your brain,” Pete said. “But if she decided to see the inside of that cabinet over there—” he pointed toward the drug cabinet “—she would just as carefully knock it over and stomp it until the doors popped off to check out what’s inside.”
“Oh.” Tala glanced at the girls, who were keeping one eye on her while they bundled hay into their mouths. “Would you do that?” she asked Sophie.
As if in answer, Sophie dipped her head and curled her trunk.
Tala laughed.
Pete jumped. Her laugh was low, but it seemed to glitter in the chill air. Suddenly he felt as though he’d happily stick on a false nose and do pratfalls over floppy clown shoes if he could hear her laugh again. Too long without a woman, he decided, that was all it was. Too much Mace, too many elephants, not enough human companionship.
A low growl came from the lioness’s enclosure. Tala looked at her quickly. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake the baby.”
Suddenly she was all mouse again, anxious and subdued.
“The scent of meat woke her, not you. Ah, m’dear,” Mace said over his shoulder, “might we be ready for a bite of breakfast?” He smiled over at Tala. “I’d say you’ve been christened Baby.” The lioness stared at him with narrow, yellow eyes.
“Watch it, Mace,” Pete said. “A hungry cat is a dangerous cat. Your dictum, remember? First time I went to work at the zoo.”
“This particular baby, however, is missing both her front claws and her top left incisor,” Mace said. “She could still kill me, but she’d have to work at it.”
“What?” Tala asked. She looked from the older man to the younger. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“No reason to,” Pete told her. “Didn’t make much difference last night. But it means she’s been somebody’s pet—inasmuch as a lion can ever be a pet.”
“But people will still try,” Mace said, neatly arranging bits of meat and bone in a steel bucket. The lioness rumbled in anticipation.
“Surely they know better,” Tala said. “I mean, look at the size of her, and you say she’s still young.”
Pete shrugged. “They watch a National Geographic special or an episode of Nova and see a bunch of cute lion cubs playing around on-screen and they think how great it would be to have something like that. So they pick up the phone and order one.”
“Order one? Like a pizza?”
“Not quite that simple, but even now that the government has cracked down on importing exotic animals, there are plenty of places where you can buy a lion cub born in the States and have it brought to you, if you’ve got the money, that is.”
“But it’s illegal to own exotic animals, isn’t it?” she said. “In Tennessee, I mean.”
“Sure is,” Pete agreed, forking another flake of hay toward Belle. “Some people think they’re above the law. Of course, in some places lions are used to police marijuana patches and other illegal operations. Scarier than dogs.”
“My word,” she exclaimed. “You mean she might have been guarding something up by the Hollow? What about the deer? How could you keep her from roaming to hunt?”
“Maybe you couldn’t. Maybe she got out and her owner shot her when he couldn’t get her back.”
“I can’t believe that. I grew up in the Hollow, and I wander all over it in the summertime. There’s not enough flat land to grow a decent crop of collard greens, much less marijuana.”
“All the easier to hide the plants in, m’dear,” Mace said. “You’d be surprised what some people will get up to in the name of money. Still, I wouldn’t think anyone would have declawed her or defanged her for use as a guard. More likely she was a pet that got too big and was dumped too far from home to find her way back.”
“And then shot?”
“Possibly by someone who thought she was a cougar,” Pete said. “She’s the right color.”
“But they’re protected,” Tala said. “And terribly rare. My husband was a warden and spent a good deal of time in the woods, but even he’d never seen one. I certainly haven’t. As we said, Tennessee has awfully strict laws about exotic and protected animals. People were surprised you were able to get permission to bring in your elephants.”
“You should have seen the hoops I had to jump through,” Pete said. “And the girls aren’t going to eat the neighbor’s poodle—or the neighbor’s kid, come to that.”
“No. But they might stomp him, mightn’t they?” Tala asked.
“Highly unlikely. I only take female Indian elephants. They can be a nuisance and certainly get cranky sometimes, but now that they can move around the place freely, they enjoy life—possibly for the first time since they stopped nursing on their mothers. And I’ve gone to great pains with the twelve-foot fences to ensure they don’t go rampaging through the soybean fields around here.”
Mace held the steel bucket out to Pete. “Here. Feed the lioness.”
Pete felt Tala’s breath on his shoulder as he turned away from her and walked over to the lioness’s enclosure. The cat raised her body on her right paw and tried to stand. She made a deep trilling sound in the back of her throat, then let out a full-throated roar that shook the steel walls.
“Hold on,” Pete said. He set the bucket down in front of the door to the enclosure, opened it a few inches and used the end of his pitchfork to shove the bucket inside. Then he quickly closed and locked the door.
The cat instantly swiped at the bucket with her muzzle and knocked it over so that its contents spilled on the concrete in front of her blanket. She collapsed in front of it and began to eat noisily.
Pete stood and felt Tala’s hand on his arm. Her fingers felt warm and gentle.
“She’s hungry. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s a good sign.”
“What happens now?” Tala asked.
“Damned if I know. We could be in big trouble just having her here. I need to call the Fish and Wildlife people. Find out what they want to do with her. You know anybody over there I could talk to?”
“I guess so. But please, don’t call yet. I know they’ll drag her off. Maybe they’ll shoot her!” Tala’s dark eyes were enormous.
“Look, she obviously belongs to somebody. Illegally, but maybe somebody’s looking for her.”
“The same somebody who’s already tried to shoot her! The one who bought that cute little cub a couple of years ago. You can’t abandon her.”
Maybe he’d been wrong about her being a wimp, Pete thought. Plenty of fight in her now.
“I can’t risk the sanctuary either.” He gestured toward the girls, who were watching the interchange avidly, as though they understood every word.
“She needs sanctuary, too. Just because she’s not an elephant…”
“I am not licensed as a big-cat sanctuary.”
“Somebody must be.”
He took a deep breath. “Dammit, I can’t take on new problems. I have my hands full with three elephants. Do you have any idea how much it costs to feed even one cat that big?”
“How much?” Tala asked.
“What?”
“How much does it cost to feed a big cat?”
Pete glanced over at his father, who had leaned his rear end against the end of the examining table, crossed his ankles, and was regarding them as though they were playing mixed doubles at Wimbledon. “Dad?”
“Nebraska Zoo Food charges ten bucks per ten-pound feed. Normally she should have one a day, but skinny as she is, and with her wound, I’d say two a day plus extra vitamins would be more like it.”
“That’s a dollar a pound, two thousand dollars a ton. Plus shipping and handling?” She looked at Mace.
Mace shook his head. “No tax either. Animal food is not taxable.”
“I know that. We used to raise pigs.” She turned back to Pete. “You haven’t told me how much the surgery and drugs and things are going to cost.”
Pete had already decided not to charge for his services. But he needed to convince her that keeping the lioness was not an option. “At least a thousand dollars,” he said, and stared Mace down as though daring the other man to contradict him. “Even if we were to keep her until she’s well, we’d have to construct a decent enclosure for her. And she’s got to be kept clean, medicated. It’s a hell of a job.”
“We…I…have an account at the co-op in town. They have heavy-duty construction fencing and steel posts.”
“Somebody’d still have to build it. And that would mean letting them know we’ve got a lion on our hands. Besides, that doesn’t solve the problem of what to do with her in the long run.”
“Don’t you know any sanctuaries for big cats?” Tala asked, desperation in her voice.
Pete’s annoyance evaporated. “Yeah. There’s a network of sanctuaries across the country. We’re all familiar with each other, whether we have elephants or big cats, or apes—whatever needs rescuing.”
“Then please keep her till you can find her a decent home!”
“You realize you’re asking me to break the law and costing me a bunch of money I need for the girls.”
“I can’t do anything about the law except to say that if anything happens I promise to take all the blame and get my mother-in-law to go to bat for you as well. She’s on the county council. As to the money—I’ve got a little saved up, and we can charge the stuff at the co-op, and maybe we can make some arrangement for me to work off the rest. I can pour cement and dig postholes.” She looked around the room. “You could use some help. I’m a hard worker, and I’m quick with figures.”
“If I need any help, which I don’t,” Pete said, “and can’t afford if I did, I’d want a man capable of shoveling elephant dung, not—”
“A skinny half-pint woman?” Tala asked. “Look, I’ve been digging and shoveling all my life. I can drive a tractor and use a front-loader with the best of them. I may be skinny, but I’m tough.” She shoved her sleeve up and made a fist at him.
He had to admit her arms were sinewy.
“I was born and raised on a dirt farm,” she continued. “Work doesn’t scare me. Besides that, I can type eighty words a minute, I can keep books, I can scrub floors, and I know how to use a computer.”
“Whoa!” Pete said.
“Honey,” Mace said gently from behind her back, “where were you coming from last night when you found Baby over there?”
“From work. I work the four-to-midnight shift as the assistant manager of the Food Farm.”
“Uh-huh. So you’re already commuting to town for an eight-hour day—or night. And Bryson’s Hollow is farmland, so you’re probably working a farm, at least part of the year. If you’re Irene Newsome’s daughter-in-law, I know you’re also a mother, without a husband to take up the slack. You plan to sleep sometime in the next century?”
Tala’s face flushed dark brick red. “We let the whole farm go fallow, so I’m not working the land. It never was much good for crops anyway—too hilly. Even Mr. and Mrs. Bryson gave up and moved to Florida a few years ago, although I don’t think they can bring themselves to sell the land their family settled in the 1700s. I can work a second job easy. I don’t need much sleep so long as I can spend the weekend with my kids—that’s not negotiable.”
“During the week?”
“They’re staying in town with their grandmother and great-grandmother.”
“Your kids aren’t with you?” Pete asked. He heard the disapproval in his voice. From the way her head snapped around and her chin went up, he knew she’d heard it, too.
“My boy is eight, makes honor roll, and already plays Pop Warner football in the fall and baseball in the spring. And my daughter is thirteen and into cheerleading and gymnastics. I can’t get them to all their practices and games and still work every night.” She shrugged. “Besides, Rachel hates the country, especially since…” She took a deep breath. “Her daddy died.”
“Still…”
“That’s the way it works out best for us, Dr. Jacobi.”
“I’m sure it is the best possible solution for the moment,” Mace said, darting an annoyed glance at his son. “But nobody can work all the time. A young woman should not be driving home by herself in a sleet storm after one o’clock in the morning. How much do they pay you at that Farm place?”
“Eight dollars an hour,” Tala whispered.
Pete closed his eyes. Not much. He wondered why she wasn’t getting some sort of pension from her husband’s death. At least she should have social security for the kids, food stamps, maybe ADC. She ought to be able to keep her children at home. But not if she had to leave them alone from before four in the afternoon until two in the morning.
“Fine. Then you come to work for us, and we’ll match your salary plus ten percent,” Mace said.
Pete gaped at him. “Mace, the money we’ve got is for the next elephant. We can’t afford—”
“Oh, yes, we can. I can, that is. Actually, m’dear, you’re cheap at the price. We expect you to get out enough fund-raising letters on that computer to more than pay your way.”
“Wait a minute, Dad. We can barely afford health insurance for ourselves, much less for an entire family.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Tala smiled at him. “We still have Adam’s insurance. The kids are covered until they’re eighteen, and I’m covered until I go on Medicare.”
Mace walked over and took both her hands. “You would make an old man very happy indeed if you’d take our job and quit working until all hours of the morning. I promise you the hours here will give you much more time for after-school activities with your children.”
Inwardly, Pete groaned. He did not need or want anyone underfoot, certainly not this woman who gave him urges he’d been quashing. He didn’t have time for urges.
Suddenly, all three elephants lifted their trunks and trumpeted. Everyone jumped. Tala looked up at them and laughed that glorious glittery laugh once more. “They know, don’t they?” she said to Mace.
“Of course, m’dear, they know everything.” Mace dropped his arm across Tala’s shoulders. “And obviously they approve. Now, it’s time for my world-famous pancakes. We have to put some meat on those bones. Coming, Pete?”
Pete watched as Mace helped Tala on with her parka and ushered her out into the frigid, but blessedly sunny, morning. Instantly, the girls swung away from their bars and walked purposefully toward the door to their enclosure that led out to the pastures beyond. They were going outside to meet Tala at close quarters.
He closed his eyes. What he felt was envy. She had a quality that endeared her to animals and people alike. Mace was no pushover, yet here he was simpering away like Maurice Chevalier.
And here Pete was once more—odd man out, even when it came to his very own elephants.
“Blast it, they’ll scare her half to death,” he swore and trotted out the door.
“AH, GLORIOUS MORNING,” Mace Jacobi said, linking Tala’s arm through his. “The roads should be completely dry in another hour.”
Tala started to reply, then noticed that the girls had silently meandered up behind her. How could they be so huge yet move so quietly?
She turned and caught her breath. Without bars, and in direct sunlight, she realized how monumental they were. She shaded her eyes with her hands, stared up at them and gulped. Mace patted her arm.
“Just checking you out, m’dear,” he said, and walked on. “They’ve already said they approve.”
Tala squared her shoulders and followed him, expecting any moment to feel the thud of a trunk on the top of her head. When they reached the steps of Mace’s trailer, however, she turned to see that the girls hadn’t moved, but were swaying back and forth in unison like overweight chorus girls. She smiled and waved at them, then followed Mace inside.
“Let me take your coat,” he said. “And how do you like your coffee?”
“Black, please.”
“You should have cream and sugar, but we’ll make up for that. The pancake batter is already in the refrigerator. I simply have to pour and flip. Please sit down. It’s cramped, I know, but I don’t normally have company, certainly not so beautiful nor so early.”
How could anyone be afraid of this man? Tala thought. He was as courtly as a knight, unlike his grumpy son. Her breath quickened as the face of that son rose up unbidden behind her eyes. He was nearly as big as the elephants, and a good deal scarier. “I don’t think Dr. Jacobi wants me here,” she said as she reached for the cup of steaming coffee Mace handed to her.
“I am Dr. Jacobi, and I do want you here. Besides, don’t let Pete fool you. We can well afford it. We desperately need the help. I’m not making that up.”
Suddenly he sounded formidable indeed. This must be the man who terrified vet students. “I don’t want to cause trouble,” she said in a small voice.
“Nonsense! You are just what my stubborn son needs. He’s turning into a hermit, and an ill-tempered one at that. Been too long since he had to deal with human beings. Animals don’t talk back, although the girls give a very close approximation when they’re pissed.”
“Why not?” she asked. “Human beings, I mean.”
He glanced at her. “Long story, and not mine to tell. Ask him when you know him a little better.”
The door opened at that moment, and the object of their conversation ducked to avoid smacking his head on the lintel. Suddenly the trailer seemed tiny.
Tala squeezed into her corner. Adam hadn’t been but a couple of inches taller than she, and slightly built, although muscular. She’d always felt comfortable with him, with his even temperament. The children took after him physically—slight, well-coordinated and athletic. Temperamentally they were more like Tala’s Cherokee grandmother, especially Rachel, who was anything but calm.
This man looked as though he could wrestle one of those elephants to the ground if he had to. And he seemed to have the nasty temperament of her granddaddy’s Jersey bull. What was his problem, for heaven’s sake?
She moved over even more to give him as much room as she could, and held her body as tight as possible. She heard the sizzle of pancake batter hitting hot fat and smelled the luscious aroma of pancakes—with something else. “Do you add vanilla?” she asked Mace.
“Ah, the girl has a good nose.”
“Not an asset around here,” Pete said. “There are times when the odors of wet hay, wet elephant and wet elephant droppings can peel paint.”
He was obviously trying to discourage her. “No worse than chickens,” she said. “Or pigs. And piles probably not much larger than a full-grown cow’s. I’ve cleaned up after all of those. And then, of course, there are babies. After two kids’ worth of dirty diapers, bad smells don’t bother me much.”
“That, m’dear, is something about which my son knows nothing whatsoever,” Mace said as he flipped the first saucer-size pancake expertly onto a plate.
Tala glanced at Pete. For some reason his father’s remark seemed to annoy him a lot more than it should have. Was this another bone of contention between them? Pete hadn’t made Mace a grandfather?
“Here you go, m’dear,” Mace said, and sat a short stack of steaming pancakes in front of her, followed in quick succession by a small collection of jugs and jars, and a butter dish. “Maple syrup, plain syrup, honey, blackberry syrup. Take your pick.” He beamed at her.
“This is too much. Dr. Jacobi, wouldn’t you like to take this one?”
“That’s about a quarter of what Pete puts away. His are coming up, and mine thereafter. The only problem with pancakes is that they require baby-sitting.”
Tala stopped in midpour. “Oh, God, can I use your phone?”
“Of course.” Mace looked puzzled. Pete stood and pressed his big body against the far wall so that she could squeeze through.
“Phone’s in my bedroom,” Mace said. “It’s set on intercom at the moment. Just punch one of the buttons. You’ll get a dial tone.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll keep your pancakes hot for you.”
Mace’s bedroom was as spartan as a monk’s cell and spotlessly clean. She picked up the telephone and punched a button, then dialed. The phone was answered on the first ring. “Irene?” she asked.
“Good Lord, Tala! Where on earth have you been? I’ve been calling your house since seven this morning. Ten more minutes and I was going to send Sheriff Craig to find out if you’d gone over the side of a cliff in the ice.”
“I’m so sorry, Irene. I meant to check in earlier.”
“Your phone out of order? I swear, Tala, Vertie and I have been frantic what with the sleet and all.”
“And the children?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell them I couldn’t reach you. They’ve had enough to worry about. The school finally decided to operate today. Two flakes, and they usually slam the doors. Wasn’t a bit like that when I was growing up. We went to school rain, sleet or snow.”
Tala relaxed. At least Rachel and Cody weren’t worried about her. Since Adam’s death, Rachel acted as though she never gave her mother a thought, but Cody worried constantly. Maybe Rachel worried as well, but she’d never let Tala know.
In the background she heard, “Has Miss Tala deigned to call at last? Give me that phone!”
A moment later Tala grinned at Vertie’s tone. “Why on earth do you think God gave us the telephone if not to keep in touch with our loved ones?”
“I’ve already apologized to Irene,” Tala said.
“Won’t do. My daughter-in-law forgives folks too easily. Apologize to me this instant, or I will drive myself out there personally and snatch you bald-headed, young lady.”
“Yes’m. I apologize.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“You drove off into the sleet at midnight and disappeared off the face of the earth. Is your phone dead? Did you have an accident?”
“No. I’m fine. I meant to come by this morning and have breakfast with all of you, but I slept a whole lot later than I planned. I’ll come by this afternoon on my way to work and tell you about it. If that’s all right,” she added.
“All right? It’s an order.”
After the usual pleasantries and a good deal of fending off questions, Tala hung up the phone. She was so lucky to have in-laws she adored and who adored her.
She felt her eyes well with tears. If not for Irene and Vertie, she’d never have survived Adam’s death. Couldn’t survive now, for that matter. But she had to aim for independence. As Tala had told the Jacobis, she was not afraid of hard work. And she was definitely not the type to turn into a white-gloved young matron drinking tea and eating sugar cookies.
Not that Vertie ever wore white gloves. Her grand-mother-in-law was more likely to be found in jeans, cowboy boots and a Stetson driving that Jeep of hers down the side of a mountain. Irene and Vertie were as different as could be, but somehow mother-in-law and daughter-in-law managed to scrape along in relative harmony in that big old Newsome mansion. Probably because Vertie spent most of her time traveling the world.
Tala had no intention of becoming the third-generation Newsome widow in that house. Not if she had to clerk at the Food Farm until she died.
Or spend the next twenty years shoveling elephant dung.
CHAPTER THREE
“IT’LL TAKE ME a couple of hours to pick up the stuff for the lion cage at the co-op and drive back out here,” Tala said an hour later as she was about to get into her truck. “And I need to stop by my in-laws’. Maybe I can see my kids after school. Is that all right? I can hardly wait to tell everybody about Baby.”
“You can’t mention Baby to anyone, Tala.” Pete’s voice was gruff.
“But—”
“The minute you tell even one person, the story’ll be all over town. Next thing you know, we’ll have the sheriff and the Wildlife people banging on the front gate with a search warrant.”
“I’ll swear them to secrecy,” she said, but her voice had dropped. She sighed as he simply stood and looked at her. After a moment, she said, “Of course you’re right. But what am I going to tell everybody about why I spent the night here?”
“Tell them your car got stuck. Tell them you had a flat tire. But whatever you do, and I can’t emphasize this enough, do not tell them about Baby. Promise?”
She nodded. “Promise.”
“Besides, if we’re actually going to do this crazy thing, build a lion cage, I need to come with you to make sure you get everything on the list. You got no business picking all that stuff up.”
“Oh, they’ll load it for me. And they won’t question what I need it for. When Ad…when my husband was alive, we were always doing things to fix up the farm. They’ll just assume I’ve gotten up enough gumption to start another project. If you come along, it’ll be all over town in thirty minutes.”
“Why?”
Tala grinned at him. “Because you people are considered deeply weird, Dr. Jacobi. Elephants in the middle of Hollendale County? Haven’t you ever lived in a small town?”
“Yes, but it was a small college town. You call my father Mace. How come you keep calling me Dr. Jacobi?”
Tala wanted to say because he made her uncomfortable, but she didn’t. She merely ducked her head, whispered, “Okay—Pete,” and climbed into her truck.
“Hey, wait a minute.” He laid a large hand on the open windowsill. “You taking the job or not?”
“I don’t know.”
“The Food Farm isn’t likely to go out of business or fire you in the near future. That’s a mark in their favor.” He heaved a sigh. “But we’re not going anywhere either. I guess we could use somebody like you around here.”
She stared at him, then without a word put her truck in gear and drove off.
Talk about grudging! she thought. Mace must have told him what to say. And he was right. The Food Farm wasn’t a piece of cake, but at least it was steady and secure. And indoors. She had to admit, she really couldn’t handle working at the sanctuary and at the Food Farm. She’d have to choose one or the other. And this paid more.
If she could work from seven in the morning until three in the afternoon, she could actually pick the kids up from school, attend their practices, be a real mother for a change.
And maybe she could explain to them in a way they’d understand that she still owed Adam a debt.
PETE THRUST HIS HANDS into his pockets hard enough to burst the seams and stared after her truck. He heard a stamp and turned to find Sweetiepie staring at him from about twenty feet away. The other two elephants had apparently departed for the woods at the back of their fifty-acre pasture. They were already invisible in the underbrush and might not surface again until it was time for their evening hay.
“So, what are you waiting for?” he asked.
Sweetiepie swished her trunk, lifted it and opened her mouth.
“Man, are you spoiled.” He sauntered over, reached up and began to scratch her tongue. She sighed in ecstasy. “How come I can do this all day and you don’t pat me on the head?”
She ignored him, merely closed her eyes and shifted her feet.
“What’s she got that I haven’t? Other than enough hair to stuff a mattress and a pair of legs that belong in a Vegas chorus line?” He stopped scratching for a moment. Sweetiepie nudged him gently. “Okay, okay. It’s cold out here, you know, and your tongue is not exactly velvet. As if you cared.”
Sweetiepie closed her mouth and swung away. “Thank you very much, Pete,” he called after her. She ignored him.
He never ceased to enjoy watching them move. From the back, Sweetiepie looked as though she were wearing baggy gray underwear. Without any evidence of speed, she covered an enormous amount of ground. He’d be willing to bet Tala would laugh that great laugh of hers the first time she saw them take off for the boonies. The thought gave him a glow that surprised him.
At that moment Baby roared. So now he had a wounded big cat to look after as well as a woman that couldn’t even look after her own children, but had the strength and guts to drag wild animals into her truck in the middle of the night. What kind of woman was she?
A woman with big dark eyes who stirred his blood.
He found Baby sitting up in her cage with her bad leg held off the ground. As he watched, she roared again, then began to pant in obvious discomfort. He expected her to be in some pain, even with the drugs, but she could have developed an infection in the wound. That would be extremely bad news.
He’d become a vet partly to gain his father’s approval, but mostly because he hated watching animals suffer. He knelt beside the lion’s pen, and pressed his hand against the steel mesh, ready to pull it away if she snapped at him.
Thank God her shoulder felt cool. She reached around and licked the wound with a tongue that he knew was rough enough to rip the skin off his hand. “It’s okay, Baby,” he whispered. “I’ll make it better.”
He found a syringe, filled it, jammed it into the muscle of her rump and thrust the plunger home before she realized what was happening. When she did, she tore the syringe from his grasp and shook it free on the floor of the cage.
Great. Now he’d have to wait until the drug took effect, then get it out safely. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was that hurt animals didn’t often appreciate or cooperate with his efforts.
“GO FOR IT, I say.” Vertie Newsome raised her glass of iced tea and took a deep swig.
“I swear, you’d tell her to go for it if she were planning to bungee-jump off the Grand Canyon,” Irene Newsome said. “She can’t seriously consider taking a job working out there alone with those men and a herd of wild elephants.”
“Sure she can,” Vertie said. “If I was twenty years younger, I’d go for that Mace myself. Do you good to get mixed up with a man again, Tala. It’s been over a year.”
“Vertilene Newsome, I swear!” Irene said.
Tala leaned back against the down cushions on the white wicker love seat and sipped her hot spiced tea from one of Irene’s antique Belleek cups. Normally she enjoyed watching the sparring matches between her in-laws, but today she was just too tired. Besides, she needed to drive the fencing and cement sacks in the back of her truck to the sanctuary soon, so she’d have time to go home to bathe and change before her shift at the Food Farm.
She’d given the women a truncated version of her adventure in the sleet, but had changed her encounter with Baby to windshield wipers that had ceased to function outside the gates to the sanctuary.
“Of course, if I were you, Tala, I’d go for the younger one. Man, is he a major stud muffin.” Vertie smacked her lips. “I always like a real big man.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
One look at Irene’s scandalized face sent Tala into gales of laughter.
“Tala, you cannot take that job,” Irene said. “Think what people would say.”
“I’ve never much cared about that in the past.”
“That was because you had Adam behind you,” her mother-in-law told her. “Now you are a single mother with two children, honey. And whether you care about your reputation or not, they certainly do. Rachel especially. She’s right at that age where she wants to fit in. I really don’t understand why you won’t move in here with us. It’s not like you couldn’t have your own suite of rooms. You could come and go whenever you wanted.” She paused for a moment, then added, “With Lucinda in the kitchen, I know you’d put on a few pounds, and you’d see so much more of the children. You deserve the money Adam’s daddy took away from him when he decided to become a warden instead of a banker. I wish you’d let me give you at least a little money, make things a little easier for you.”
“We’ve been over all that before, Irene,” Tala said. She tried to keep her voice level, but she was so tired, she heard the edge of exasperation creep in. “Mr. Newsome left that money in trust for his grandchildren for when they went to college or wanted to start their own families. He didn’t want you to give Adam or me a penny. Adam refused to take anything from you, and I have to abide by his wishes. The children aren’t suffering, Lord knows, and I’m doing just fine. I promise you.”
“But it’s so unfair,” Irene said. “I know Hollis would have come around in time, when he saw how happy you made Adam. If he just hadn’t had his stroke so soon…I could make you an allowance and never even notice the money was gone.”
Tala covered Irene’s small hand with hers. “You’re spending a ton on the kids as it is, and I am more grateful than you’ll ever know. They need so much I can’t give them.”
“But with an allowance, you could quit your job, go back to school. It would be so easy…” Irene’s voice trailed off helplessly.
Tala leaned back. “I know it must seem crazy to you, Irene. It would be easy to let you spoil me rotten and make all the decisions the way Adam used to, but if I’m ever going to stand on my own feet, I have to start somewhere and just keep going until I get there—wherever there is.”
Vertie patted her knee. “Hush, Irene. She’s right. We are here to do what we can when we can, and for as long as we can. But it’s Tala’s life, and she’s got a darned sight more of it left to live. So if she wants to bungee-jump off the Grand Canyon, then I do say go for it.”
“And the first warm day you’ll fly off to Nepal or Bali and leave me to handle the town gossip,” Irene snapped, then looked contrite. “I’m sorry, Vertie, that was uncalled-for.”
“But true. All right, I promise. I will stick around at least until June when the kids are out of school. Then I’ll drag both of them off somewhere for the summer. Tala and you, too, if you’ll come.”
“Oh, no. I belong here.” Irene reached across and laid her fine-boned hand with its sprinkling of liver spots and beautifully manicured pink nails on Tala’s knee. “Do what you have to, dear. It would be marvelous for you to have the afternoons free. The children miss you at their practices. Vertie and I are a poor substitute.”
“You’d never know Rachel misses me,” Tala said. “She wishes I were the one going off to Nepal.”
“She’s just going through a bad time since Adam…died,” Irene said.
“Since some fool shot him to death over some out-of-season deer kill,” Vertie said. “He didn’t die, Irene. He got himself murdered, and the devil that killed him is still walking around looking for more deer to poach.”
“Please, Vertie,” Tala said.
“I’m sorry, but it makes me so damned mad. In my day we’d have caught the sum’bitch and strung him up to the nearest oak tree. The hell with due process.”
Tala stood up quickly, set the fragile cup on the table and bent to kiss Vertie’s cheek. It felt like crushed velvet—soft, but with a myriad tiny imperfections and striations. “I love you, Belle Starr, Queen of the Outlaws, and you, too, Irene.”
“So, you going to take the job?” Vertie asked in a raspy voice that showed how close she was to tears.
“Maybe. I’ll talk to Beanie on my shift tonight. Please don’t mention a word to the kids until I’m sure.”
“Of course, dear,” Irene said, then followed her to the door and touched her cheek. Her eyes were full of concern. “You’ve got dark circles the size of dinner plates under your eyes, and I swear you’ve lost some more weight. You have to remember to eat, Tala. Promise?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She kissed Irene’s cheek, walked to her truck, climbed in and waved to the two women standing at the top of the porch stairs.
They stood arm in arm, united for all their differences. Vertie, tall, angular and hawk-faced, her still-thick gray hair pulled back into a bun at the back of her neck, in her faded jeans, heavy fisherman’s sweater and white Nikes. Irene, shorter than Tala, and plump as a partridge, with her immaculately coifed golden hair, her beige wool skirt and baby blue cashmere twin set, wearing high-heeled taupe pumps that showed off the trim ankles that were her greatest vanity. As Tala climbed into her truck, the women turned and went back into the house. A united front as far as the rest of the world was concerned.
If either woman had an inkling how difficult it was for Tala not to be a full-time mother to her children, they would have shipped the pair of them home to her farmhouse in a heartbeat, and volunteered to ferry them home after their practices every afternoon.
But Rachel wouldn’t come back to the farm. She swore she’d never set foot there again so long as she lived. She never wanted to see the deer or the possums or raccoons again. So far as she was concerned, if Adam hadn’t devoted his life to wild animals, he’d still be alive.
And by extension, if he’d married some safe debutante instead of Tala, he’d never have felt he could follow his dream and become a warden. He’d have been a nice, rich banker living in a big house in town. Rachel was full of anger, and Tala didn’t know how to help her.
And the only night Cody had spent on the farm in the last three months he’d cried and had nightmares about his father all night long until Tala slept in the rocking chair beside his bed and held her hand on him. At least at his grandmother’s he could sleep.
As she started her vehicle, a bright red Jeep pulled in behind her and honked its horn. She turned off the engine and jumped out of the truck. “Rachel, Cody, Irene said you wouldn’t be home for an hour yet.” She opened her arms and Cody flew into them. Rachel stood by the Jeep with a scowl on her face.
“Mom!” Cody said, and kissed her cheek. “Mrs. Johnson was sick, so Rachel’s stupid cheerleading practice got canceled and Mrs. Lippincott gave us a ride home so we wouldn’t have to walk.”
She looked over Cody’s head. “Sorry about your practice, Rach, but I’m glad I got to see you.”
Rachel shifted her book bag and walked past her mother and up the steps. “We’ll never make it to the State finals at this rate,” she snapped, then turned around to stare at her mother. “What’s the big deal?” Her face clouded, and Tala saw a flash of anxiety in her eyes. “Nobody’s sick, are they?”
Tala slid Cody to his feet and walked over to touch Rachel’s shoulder. Rachel didn’t exactly flinch, she just moved out from under her mother’s fingers.
“Everybody’s fine so far as I know, Rach.”
“Great. I got homework. Bye.” She walked up the steps and into the house.
Cody made a face at her retreating back. “Boy, is she ever a pain. How come I can’t be an only child?”
“Little late for that, I’m afraid, Cody bear.”
“She’s not mean to anybody but you—well, mostly.”
“Is she mean to you?”
Cody snickered. “No way. I’m a big martial-arts type, Mom. Yee-hah.” He proceeded to throw his fists and kick out, just missing his mother’s shoulder.
“Very impressive. But don’t use it on your sister or anybody else, you got that?”
“Oh, Mom.”
She glanced at her watch. “Drat. I’m late. I love you, Cody bear. And tell Rachel I love her, too.” She kissed the top of his head. He waved and scurried up the steps and into the big house. Tala watched him go as she climbed into her truck. She felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. He looked so much like the pictures of his father at that age.
She drove out and turned toward the road to the sanctuary. She barely had time to drop off the supplies and get to the Food Farm on time.
Most people, looking at Cody, would assume he was over his father’s death. Tala knew better. Cody kept his feelings all inside, while Rachel bared her teeth at the universe. They both probably needed to talk to a psychologist of some kind, but the closest one was fifty miles away, and he didn’t have much of a reputation.
She’d have to muddle through and try to help them. Herself, as well.
As much as she longed to be with her children, Tala could not give up the farmhouse, the house where she and Adam had been married, had loved and given birth to their babies, and where Adam had lain in his coffin before he was buried in the little cemetery behind the Episcopal mission with the other Newsomes.
The day they were married she’d sworn to him she’d preserve the place as long as she lived, so that no matter how much development, how many vacation homes went up around her, the farm she’d inherited at Bryson’s Hollow would always stay a refuge for the wild creatures he loved so much. In the end he’d given his life for them. The least she could do was keep her word.
No untenanted farm survived long these days without squatters and thieves and even arsonists destroying what they could not appreciate. She simply could not abandon the place, even if she’d been able to afford something halfway decent in town.
But with a day job, she could bring Cody home for at least part of the summer, and perhaps even convince Rachel to give the farm another try. Tala had always found the woods healed her wounds. They might heal Rachel’s, too. A few days’ fishing on the banks of the stream where she’d fished with her daddy might possibly smooth out her daughter’s soul.
One step at a time. First the new job, then work on getting the kids home.
“TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH.” Pete loomed huge and grumpy outside her truck door. “You get everything?”
“Yes, Doctor. Including premixed cement that sets up in any temperature. Regular cement would stay wet for a month in this cold air.”
“Oh. Yeah. Guess you’re right.”
He sounded surprised—maybe he didn’t think women knew things like that. She brushed past him, and her shoulder touched his chest. She caught her breath and kept walking, although her heart thumped.
He, on the other hand, shied away as though she’d attacked him.
“Where are you planning to build Baby’s cage?” Tala asked, ignoring both his reaction and hers. She glanced back at him, and was startled to see that the tips of his ears were red. And he was suddenly breathing as though he’d been running a marathon.
He cleared his throat. “Mace and I talked it over. Round back under the overhang and behind the hay storage. Be protected from the wind, and the hay offers good insulation. Plus nobody’ll see her if they drive in.” He refused to meet her eyes.
“If you could teach her to keep her mouth shut we’d be in business,” she said.
“Move over. I’ll drive the truck around back. It’s still pretty slippery where the elephants have trampled the ground.”
Tala opened her mouth to protest that she was capable of driving in mud, but then she shut it. She barely had enough room in the passenger seat by the time he’d fitted his bulk behind the driver’s seat. He’d had to move the seat all the way back to get in. She wouldn’t be able to reach the pedals until she moved it to its former position.
A few moments later they were at the site for the cage. The location was perfect. The overhang offered protection, and the steel outside wall closed off one side, so they only had three sides to construct.
Mace was already digging postholes in the dirt. Tala climbed out and looked at the perimeter. “Doesn’t look very big,” she said.
“Not nearly big enough if she were healthy and we were going to keep her forever,” Mace said, resting on his digger.
“She can’t stay where she is,” Pete said. “She’s already getting antsy. This way, at least she’ll be able to pace, and we can add a ladder or two so she can climb, although lions don’t actually do much climbing in the wild.”
“Have you tried to find a home for her yet?”
“You’ve only been gone a few hours.”
Tala dropped her head. “I meant to get back sooner. I’m sorry. About the job…”
“Say yes, m’dear,” Mace said.
“I have to speak to the manager at the Food Farm tonight. Give him a chance to meet your offer. I can’t just leave him in the lurch. But if he says no, and if you’ll really let me work from early until school lets out, and let me have the weekends off, I promise I’ll work very hard for you.”
“Wonderful!” Mace said, and clapped his hands. Pete merely turned his back and mumbled something unintelligible.
“I hate to leave you with this now, but I’ve really got to go home and get ready for work,” she said. “And I think I left my gloves inside last night. May I go get them?”
“Of course. Pete and I will unload so you can take your truck. Call after you’ve spoken to your manager. If he does offer you more money, we’ll meet his offer. If you have to give him two weeks’ notice, so be it. We want you, m’dear.”
Tala smiled and walked around the edge of the building, leaving the men hauling posts and wire out of the truck. Maybe Dr. Mace wanted her. She wasn’t sure about Dr. Pete.
She opened the small door to the side of the overhead and walked inside the workroom. The light was dim, and the room felt even colder than outside. The faint aroma of raw meat met her nostrils. She looked over at Baby’s cage to see whether she was still sleeping.
Empty!
She felt her blood chill as she peered into the dark corners. She hoped Baby couldn’t fit between the bars on the elephants’ enclosure, but if she could, the lion could be anywhere in Hollendale County by now.
Tala opened her mouth to yell for Pete and felt something heavy bump her leg. Without moving her head, she looked down. Baby stood beside her, butting her big golden head into the side of Tala’s knee like a house cat. But hard enough so that Tala had to brace her other hand on the medicine cabinet beside her to keep from falling over.
Baby butted her again, then rubbed her body along Tala’s legs, crossed over in front of her and collapsed into a big yellow heap on the concrete. She lay there rumbling contentedly.
“Okay, you’re not hungry—at least I hope you aren’t,” Tala said with more conviction than she felt. “And you’ve been around people, although God knows what they did to you before they shot you. I doubt seriously you know I rescued you last night, but maybe you’re just cold and lonesome.”
Baby rolled her eyes and yawned. Even without all her incisors, her mouth looked capable of biting Tala’s head off in one gulp.
Tala was trapped. The cat lay across her boots. Her body wound around so that in order to move, Tala would have to dislodge her feet and step over the mound of lion. Assuming Baby would let her. How much time would it take before Pete realized she’d been inside too long?
She couldn’t wait. She’d better try to get herself out of this.
“Sweet Baby,” she crooned. “Is your shoulder better?” Slowly, carefully, Tala bent her knees until she could touch Baby’s head. She began to scratch behind the cat’s ears. “My cats always loved this, let’s hope you’re cat enough to do the same.”
The rumbling increased. My word, Baby was purring! Or as close to a purr as she could get. Tala began to stroke the animal’s head. “Aren’t you a sweet ole baby girl?”
A moment later she nearly toppled head first on top of the lion as the door behind her opened and hit her in the rear.
“Hey, can’t you find your gloves?”
“Pete, stay out,” she hissed.
He poked his head around the door. “Holy hell. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Tala tried to stand up, but couldn’t with Pete halfway in the door. Baby looked over Tala’s shoulder and lashed her tail, annoyed at the interruption.
“Stand up very slowly,” Pete told her. “Then when I open the door, I’ll grab you and drag you out.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Tala said. “Or necessary. I think she just got lonely. I’ve been scratching her ears.”
“Do what I tell you, woman. We’ll worry about what she wants when we’ve put a steel door between the two of you.”
“All right.” In spite of her bravado, Tala felt a rush at his peremptory tone. He was worried.
Or maybe he just didn’t want to have to deal with the consequences of having to explain her carcass to the authorities.
She stood slowly. Baby rumbled again, but she seemed more disturbed at the loss of physical contact than angry. Tala felt the breeze from the slightly open door, and reached back. Pete’s big rough hand engulfed hers. “Hang on.”
He shoved the door open, yanked her around the edge, and almost dislocated her shoulder. He slammed the door and dragged her into a fierce bear hug, lifted her off her feet and swung her away from the door. “Dammit, don’t ever do that again.”
She forced her mouth away from his breast pocket and said indignantly, “Me? What did I do?”
He held her at arm’s length with her feet dangling as though she were a rag doll. “Didn’t you see she was out of her cage?”
“Put me down! By the time I spotted the empty cage, I had a lion on my feet wanting her ears scratched.”
On her feet again, she stood toe-to-toe with him. “I think I behaved pretty darn well, all things considered. For that matter, so did she. She’s a sweet pussycat who just needs a little affection!”
“Oh, my sainted aunt!” Pete struck his forehead with the flat of his hand.
“What’s the matter?” Mace came running around the corner of the building.
“She’s out is what. And little Miss Cat Lady here has been scratching her ears. I told you she was trouble.”
“Me or the cat?”
“Both, dammit!” Pete stalked off to meet his father. “How the hell are we going to handle the lion now? Even if we finish setting the posts today, the concrete won’t be solid until morning, and then we still have to stretch the fence and cover it over.”
“We could shoot her,” Mace said solemnly. Tala caught his wink, but Pete obviously didn’t.
“Are you crazy?” He stopped. “Okay. You got me. But we can’t leave her loose in the workroom either.” He turned to Tala. “Could you tell if she knocked down the enclosure?”
“Didn’t look like it, but I must admit I didn’t check closely.”
“Then she probably came out over the top. We can wire down some steel fence on top of her enclosure in about an hour and get her back into it with the capture gun if we have to, although I suspect another hunk of meat will do it.”
“Promise you won’t hurt her?”
“We will not hurt her. Not unless it’s her or us. In the meantime, I can sucker her into the guest bathroom with another hunk of deer meat. She’ll be okay.” He touched Tala’s shoulder with surprisingly gentle fingers. “And you. You okay? Did I hurt you?”
“Not a bit.” She smiled at him. “I’ll give her the meat if you like.”
“Sure you’re up to it? She must’ve scared you pretty good just now.” He smiled, his hand still kneading her shoulder. For a moment she wanted to relax against him, feel those hands on other parts of her body. Enough, she admonished herself.
“I’m fine,” she said and moved away.
Suddenly he sobered. “The instant you forget you’re dealing with a wild animal, you’re dead. Trust me on that. She may act like a pussycat, but she weighs two hundred pounds, and she’s used to raw meat. At the moment she’s well fed and still not feeling in hunting trim.”
“But won’t she smell fear?”
“Sure. So fake out your pheromones. Don’t be scared, be aware. And don’t take chances.”
Mace came down the steps of his trailer unwrapping a piece of meat. “That beast is eating all my venison, drat it!” He handed it to Tala.
“Go in through the front,” Pete said. “Open the door to the guest bathroom, then open the door to the exam room, show her the food, toss it on the bathroom floor, and once she’s in, shut the door on her. I’ll be right behind you. Think we need the rifle for safety, Dad?”
“No!” Tala wailed.
“Your safety is more important than she is,” Mace said. “Take the gun, Pete. Better safe than sorry.”
“All right,” she said. “But you won’t need it. I promise I’ll make this work.”
Tala wished she felt as confident as she tried to sound. She knew the scary bit would come from the time the cat saw the food until Tala could shut the bathroom door on her and walk away. Suddenly, Pete’s huge presence—even holding the rifle—was no longer threatening. He was comforting.
He stood in the hall doorway with his hand on the knob behind him as she inched open the door to the examining room. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” Tala called. She heard Pete’s snort behind her.
The cat still lay by the door, but on her back with all four feet in the air. She rolled her eyes, saw Tala, and struggled to her feet quicker than Tala would have imagined possible. She put no weight on her left leg, but she still managed to move quickly toward the meat. Tala stood behind the hall door, held out the meat, threw it into the bathroom and shrank back.
The cat ignored her, limped into the bathroom and sank onto the bath mat. Tala shut the bathroom door quickly on the sounds of crunching, then shut the door to the examining room and practically ran into Pete’s arms through the other door. This time she buried her face gratefully against his chest.
He held her awkwardly and patted her back. “You did great. We’ll take it from here.”
Her heart beat so hard she heard it in her ears.
“Hate to say this, m’dear, but didn’t you say you had to drive all the way home and get back to town before four?” Mace said from the doorway.
“Lord, yes!” Tala ran past the two men and to her truck. As she drove by, she called out the window, “I’ll call you about the job!”
“NOW SIT, stay,” Mace Jacobi pointed his finger at the lioness, who once more reclined on her blanket in her newly covered cage. She regarded him with wide yellow eyes as innocent as a week-old kitten’s.
“Even house cats don’t sit and stay,” Pete said, slipping the fencing tool back into the leather pouch strapped around his waist. “Have you taken a look at what she did to the bathroom? Shredded shower curtain, shredded bath mat, and deer blood from the inside of the bathtub halfway up the walls. It’s going to take me half the night to get the smell out.”
“Better than having her roaming around here while we worked.” Mace clicked his tongue. “That’s a gutsy little girl we’ve hired.”
“You’ve hired, you mean. Assuming she agrees to take the job. I had nothing to do with it.”
“The girl made the final decision, son. Besides, I think she needs help.”
“Right. She’s not even raising her own kids.”
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