she’s fine now, right?”
Typical male.
Unfortunately, he then shot Jasper a questioning look that Katie interpreted as She left the gate open!
“Katie was only twelve,” Jasper defended.
“And I knew better!” Katie insisted.
“And had way more responsibility than you should have had.” Jasper said the words matter-of-factly, as if they should be believed and accepted. Judging by the nods of the listeners, after just six short months of being with the park, Jasper’s word already held a lot of weight. “And Bob wasn’t running a zoo. He didn’t answer to the American Zoological Association. He had laws to follow, but those weren’t nearly as stringent as the ones we have to follow here because we’re open to the public. There were no double gates on Tyre’s enclosure, or anything.”
Katie protested, “Janie was only six. I was supposed to watch over her.”
Luke took back the conversation by repeating, “Well, she’s fine now, right?”
Today, at least, Janie was probably more “fine” than Katie.
“She’s no doubt stocking the refrigerator and inviting friends over,” Katie agreed. “And already planning to trash our apartment while I’m here instead of watching her.”
Luke merely harrumphed. He obviously didn’t have a sister living with—
Katie immediately felt a moment’s guilt. He didn’t have a sister, because Bridget had died. No doubt he’d love to be worrying about a trashed house instead of a house that was too quiet.
Of course, no man this good-looking, this nice, had a house that was too quiet. He probably had the wife and two-point-five kids.
He wasn’t wearing a ring, though. Mind you, her dad hadn’t worn one, either. He said it deterred attention from the female demographic.
Katie glanced around the room, wishing she were back home, wishing she’d thought to stop and get a motel room, wishing she were anywhere but here in a small office, packed with Luke, Jasper, Fred the vet and a thirtysomething female she’d yet to officially meet.
And a small black-and-white cat sitting at attention on Luke Rittenhouse’s desk.
“I think I just need to rest,” Katie finally said.
Jasper patted her hand awkwardly and left the room.
“That couch isn’t very comfortable,” the other woman said.
“Hey,” Luke protested, “it’s plenty comfortable when you pull out the Hide-A-Bed.”
“Which we’re not doing today,” the woman scolded, an edge to her voice. “Don’t even think about it.”
Katie agreed. No way could she sleep here. Outside Luke’s office, she could hear the sounds of animals beginning their day. Birds provided background chatter, bison or maybe an antelope lowed and in the distance she could hear the hum of machinery testifying to the presence of humans.
It was like going back in time more than a decade and waking up twelve years old.
A time she didn’t want to go back to.
“She needs time to acclimate.” This came from the edgy-voiced woman in the room.
“You must be Meredith,” Katie said. “We spoke on the phone.”
“Yes, I’m one of the keepers.”
Jasper returned and handed Katie a glass of water. “I’ve talked to Ruth. She’s on her way in from the horse arena. She says to call her when you’re ready to go. She’ll take good care of you.”
“I just need to get into town, find a motel and get some sleep. Really, I don’t want to be a bother.”
“We’re all about saving money,” Jasper said. “Not a bother at all. You’re like family.”
“Family?” Things were happening too quickly and Katie felt as if she was losing ground she couldn’t regain. Worse, people she didn’t even know were offering help she hadn’t asked for.
Because when people offered to help, they expected something in return. Usually at a cost Katie couldn’t afford. She looked Jasper in the eye and said, “Family? You’ve got to be kidding?”
Jasper flinched, just barely, enough for Katie to see but not the others.
“No,” Meredith said, “we’re not kidding. You’re here to help Aquila. We’ll do anything we can to assist you. Ruth only lives a mile away.”
“It’s the best choice, Katie.” Jasper’s words were soft, humble.
Katie didn’t like being pushed into making a decision. She’d learned the hard way to make her own choices, and not to rely on anyone else—including those she considered family. And here Jasper was, trying to send her away.
Just as he’d done before.
She closed her eyes, remembering Jasper driving her and Janie to the bus terminal, carrying their suitcases to the cashier dock, leading them to a long line of strangers all looking as though wherever they were heading was worse than where they were at. In all fairness, he hadn’t known that Aunt Betsy was an alcoholic who would take the money Bob sent her each month and spend it on everything but the two girls.
Like her, he’d assumed the change would be temporary until Bob came to his senses.
But when the weeks turned into months and then a year...
He wasn’t one to cozy up to a cell phone or an email account, at least all those years ago. Of course, she’d not had one, either. And he’d not responded to any of the letters she’d written.
“You’ll like Ruth,” Jasper said.
“And if you don’t like me, you can bunk with Jasper. But I guarantee I smell better.” Ruth Moore walked into the office as if she owned it. Everyone visibly relaxed. The vet seemed to take her presence as some sort of permission to leave. As for Jasper, he looked at her with an expression on his face that he usually reserved for his favorite animals.
Katie used to receive that look. Not this trip.
She didn’t deserve it, anyway. She wasn’t going to be able to do what he asked and help Aquila.
In a matter of minutes, Ruth had Katie up and out the door and into a Lincoln Town Car. The fancy car looked as if it should drive presidents, but instead it had a blanket spread across the backseat, cat hair on the floorboards and smelled of cat, big cat.
The green Christmas tree freshener hanging from the rearview mirror was wasted.
Katie shifted uncomfortably. “You know, I’d be just fine at a motel.”
“Probably, but my place is closer.”
“I could follow you in my car, at least.”
“The fainting worries me. Better safe than sorry. We can fetch your car later.”
In the animal world, there were two kinds of caretakers: those who got along better with animals than people, and those who could do both. Ruth must be the first kind.
“I appreciate you letting me stay at your place.”
Ruth pushed her glasses up higher on her nose and said, “I’ll do anything I can to help Aquila. He’s a good cat and deserves a chance.”
Katie could only nod. She’d pegged Ruth correctly.
And Katie was getting one message loud and clear. These people wanted Aquila better and they expected her to accomplish it.
A moment later, Katie and Ruth pulled into a circular driveway meant for a dozen cars. Ruth lived just a five-minute drive from the zoo in an adobe home built on enough acres to start her own zoo.
“I