didn’t matter that Luke didn’t hear anything, either. He was certain Jasper did, and that was enough to inspire an Olympic-style sprint toward the panther enclosure.
About the time Luke reached his destination and skidded to a stop, he realized Jasper was beside him. Who knew the old man could move that fast?
He was probably thinking what Luke was thinking.
Katie Vincent had arrived.
More than anything, Luke hoped he was wrong, because if the tall blonde standing frozen in front of Aquila’s enclosure was Katie, Bridget’s was in trouble.
“Katie,” Jasper said sharply. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
Aquila paced, venting his displeasure with a twitching tail. Even as Luke slowly moved toward the woman, he changed his mind about them being in trouble.
Because the woman, who surely had to be Katie, had certainly inspired Aquila. The cat was agitated, moving, responding—even if Katie wasn’t.
She didn’t move, not even her fingers that were clenched into fists. Luke moved even closer to her, careful not to make a sound or an abrupt move. He knew how to work with people facing an adversary. His sister Bridget had faced more than her share. Bridget was no stranger to making fists and she’d known how to use them.
Gently, he took Katie by the shoulder and turned her around so she faced him. He waited until her eyes focused on him.
“Are you all right?” he repeated Jasper’s words.
She shook her head. Long blond hair went right and left. She was just an inch shorter than he was and pale. Luke’s gaze took in her tennis shoes, no tread; her jeans and shirt, not protective; her nails, manicured and painted green; and up to her face.
He’d been right the first time; Bridget’s was in a world of trouble. Katie Vincent hadn’t been joking when she said he was asking the impossible. Because above the strong chin and too-full lips were her green eyes. They focused on him for only a moment before turning to look at Aquila again.
The expression in them was abject terror.
CHAPTER THREE
KATIE CLUTCHED THE gritty edge of a cement bench and kept her eyes closed, trying to shut out a splitting headache and the voices.
The headache would go away; hopefully the world would stop tilting, too. But she had a feeling the voices were here to stay. The first voice, the one doing most of the talking, was Luke Rittenhouse. At least he didn’t sound so annoyed this time.
She carefully opened one eye to a slit.
He wasn’t what she expected. For one thing, he was better looking than his website photos suggested and closer to her age. She’d figured he was older. For another, he was looking at her and not at Aquila.
Her father, had she interrupted his day by wimping out, would have put her in the hands of an employee and gone back to work.
“Katie, you all right?” Jasper inched over, right next to Luke.
Katie closed her eyes again. She wasn’t ready to deal with this, with him.
His voice hadn’t changed. It was still twangy and gravelly and soothing.
“She’s going to be fine,” the third man said, sitting beside her. This was the only voice she didn’t recognize. He felt the back of her head. “Not even a bump.”
Somebody else sat down next to her and patted her on the shoulder. She knew it wouldn’t be Jasper. He had a master touch when it came to animals but didn’t have a clue when it came to humans. Surely it wasn’t Luke. Yet, even before she opened her eyes a nano-slit, she knew it was him. He seemed like a take-charge kind of guy.
She was right.
“How long have you been afraid of animals?” Luke asked.
Katie opened her eyes and stared down at her tennis shoes. She wasn’t quite ready to meet Luke’s gaze. She’d expected a fifty-something, gruff, hard-edged keeper. Instead, she got a thirty-something, rugged, almost Indiana-Jones perfect—a young Indiana-Jones keeper.
“I’m not afraid,” she said. “I’m just surprised by how big Aquila’s gotten.”
From behind her, she heard Jasper snort. Luke just looked at her; his mouth didn’t change from a straight line. “Liar,” he said.
“It’s been more than a decade since I’ve been around exotic animals,” Katie protested, finally looking Luke full in the face. “I didn’t know how I’d react when...”
“You mean you didn’t know you were afraid?” Luke supplied.
“I’m not sure I am afraid. Maybe more like unwilling to find out.”
“You aren’t afraid of anything, little girl,” Jasper said. “What’s really bothering you?”
Katie glanced away. It had seemed like such a good idea, to come in alone and assess Aquila without any gawking eyes.
When she’d arrived at Bridget’s AZ Animal Adventure, there’d been maybe five cars in the parking lot. A strange-looking man had sat cross-legged in front of the entrance. He’d smiled, asked her name, seemed to recognize it and then offered her a paintbrush. When she turned it down, he’d opened the gate and told her how to find Aquila.
Walking into Bridget’s, she’d had an almost ethereal sense of déjà vu.
All she could think, with each step, was how the smell of animals never changed, and how the morning sun seemed more pronounced when there was a vital job to do—like taking care of animals.
Katie had never felt more needed, more confident, than when she’d been taking care of Aquila and Tyre. Taking care of Janie wasn’t the same. Katie had been scared to death when, at eighteen, she’d become the guardian of her twelve-year-old sister.
To this day, she was terrified she’d mess up with Janie.
She’d never been scared with Aquila.
Until today.
She looked at Aquila and remembered his brother, Tyre, remembered what a big cat looked like with blood dripping from his mouth onto the ground.
“I’ll be all right,” she said forcefully. “Maybe it’s that I’ve been awake all night, driving. Maybe it’s the worry of being unemployed—”
“We’ll find a way to compensate you for your help.”
She felt her voice growing tight. “Maybe it’s the fear that I can’t do whatever it is you want me to do.”
“Just get Aquila to eat,” Luke said. “That’s all we want. He’s losing too much weight. If we don’t do something soon, we’ll lose him.”
Now that her eyes were open, Katie could see Aquila pacing back and forth in front of the fence. Every step was agitated. His skin sagged more than it should. His gait was slower than it should be. A decade out of the business and Katie could still spot what John Q. Public would miss.
Aquila wasn’t himself. He wasn’t holding his head quite as high as normal, his steps weren’t as stable. For a moment, she wanted to enter the cage, stroke the satiny fur. Hear Aquila purr.
But after a decade away, she couldn’t do that, even if she wanted. It would break every rule her father and Jasper had instilled in her.
And it might break Katie.
But that attitude wouldn’t get the job done—and it wouldn’t get her home any faster. Aquila might need her, but Janie needed her even more. She couldn’t help one without helping the other. No matter what it cost her. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll try.”
She felt a hand land on her shoulder and awkwardly squeeze.
Jasper’s