Katie's Rescue. Pamela Tracy

for some reason, Luke Rittenhouse refused to see it or believe it.

      The man was nuts.

      No, she was nuts for even attempting it.

      But she couldn’t shake the memory of how thin Aquila was and how unstable he was on his feet. After walking away from Luke and Aquila, she’d left Bridget’s AZ Animal Adventure, just got in her car and drove. She didn’t have a destination. Her only goal was to clear her head.

      She had half a mind to just head home to Texas. Her suitcases were still in the back.

      But giving up was not in Katie’s nature. If it was, she’d never have been awarded custody of her little sister. Most eighteen-year-olds wouldn’t want the job of taking on a twelve-year-old.

      But instead of Texas, Katie headed into town.

      She explored the area for a good hour before feeling comfortable with it. The town of Scorpion Ridge was one main thoroughfare of businesses and then a square neighborhood of houses that either nestled or climbed up the Santa Catalina Mountains. Close to Interstate 10 was an RV park that spread for miles. There were a few ranches, some working, some guest. Katie hadn’t noticed any of it this morning. She’d been too focused on her destination and too tired to care.

      Although a small town, it didn’t have the Saturday-night-roll-up-the-sidewalks mentality. Arizona clearly hadn’t heard that October was supposed to be cold. Instead, the early evening felt like the end of a perfect summer day, complete with a breeze.

      Katie was tempted to get out of the car and walk, just for the fun of it, but she’d already walked once today—all the way from Ruth’s house to Bridget’s.

      She suddenly realized she hadn’t eaten since she’d left Ruth’s and it was already six in the afternoon. A tiny strip mall was to her right. She could buy a sub sandwich and some chips, if she wanted. It looked as if she could get a haircut, too, for only nine dollars. But not a bike. The bike store’s orange neon sign blinked from Open to Closed.

      Katie couldn’t remember the last time she’d ridden a bike.

      Checking her watch, she figured that at Bridget’s, the staff would have pushed the last of the straggling visitors out the door a couple of hours ago and would now be putting the animals to bed. The park closed at four, which Katie thought ridiculously early. It was Saturday. They should have some evening events, something to draw more people in, make more money. And tomorrow the park didn’t open until noon. Even though Sunday was still the weekend!