He needed someone who loved and worked with animals, as he did.
Someone who understood about a labor of love.
He’d learned a long time ago, two years to be exact, that most women didn’t understand how much of himself he had to devote to Bridget’s. They wanted the “labor of love” to be them, not an animal park— Especially not an animal park that required a 24/7 work schedule.
He’d wanted a miracle for his sister Bridget but that hadn’t happened, either. He started to close his eyes when he heard—
“I’m back, and I’m not going to faint.”
Standing next to Aquila’s wall, she looked better than she had this morning. Not so pale. The jeans were still tight, and the green button-down shirt was even more wrinkled. But this time Katie Vincent had a determined fire in her eyes.
He reminded himself that he could not afford to be impressed with her looks, no matter how much he noticed them, and he was just as determined. “Prove it.”
He watched her take a deep breath before she turned to the enclosure and stepped closer.
To the common observer, Aquila, lying on a heated spot in the grass, would appear oblivious of his surroundings.
Luke knew better.
Just this morning, for the first time in a week, Aquila had been active. Even now, Aquila’s ears were up—not moving, but definitely at attention. His shoulder blades, too, were raised just a hair. His tail had the slightest twitch. Luke wondered if Katie noticed the tension. He couldn’t tell. When she finally did say something, it wasn’t what Luke expected.
“He looks lonely.”
“Panthers are solitary.”
“I know that, but Aquila always had my dad, me, Jasper, somebody stopping by to play with him.”
“I don’t think it’s been that way for quite a while,” Luke said. “When I purchased your father’s animals, Aquila was the only cat your father still had, and Jasper said none of the animals had been out on a shoot in over a year.”
“When I was twelve, my father had seven big cats.”
“At the end, he only kept the ones that were making money.”
She nodded. “I realized how few animals he had left when I read Jasper’s accounting after the will was read,” she said softly. “Of course, by the paperwork I couldn’t tell if he’d kept the performers or his favorites. But, then, the performers always were his favorites.”
“Did you know he was sick?”
“Aquila wasn’t sick when—”
“I mean your dad. Did you know he was sick?”
Determination gave way to wariness. “No, I didn’t.”
“Why did you—?”
“What should Aquila weigh now? About one fifty?”
Luke let her change the subject. “Near enough.”
He stayed on the bench and gave Katie time to just watch Aquila. She moved close to the cement wall, oblivious of the people around her and the sounds of an animal kingdom. Eventually she relaxed enough to rest her arms on the top which was just above her waist. On the other side of the wall was an empty moat wide enough to deter Aquila should he decide to jump. But if the animal-enclosure architect had done his job—and Luke had paid him a pretty penny, so he better have—then the wire that guarded the moat would keep Aquila from even thinking jumping was an option.
“He’s never had such a big place to roam,” Katie observed when the crowds had passed.
“I’m not much of a cage man.”
“My father liked them—they were easy and cost-effective.”
She didn’t sound as if she approved. Unfortunately she wasn’t looking at Aquila’s new digs as if they were much of an improvement.
The enclosure Aquila resided in now was meant to resemble nature as best it could. Aquila had grass, vegetation and scratching logs. He had a wooden structure with a roof that he could lie under if he wanted shade, or lie on top of if he wanted sun. Best of all, he had a pool.
Luke had a pool, too, or at least his apartment complex came with one. But he wasn’t home enough to use it.
Katie remained quiet for a bit, then turned to look at him. “You know, there were people who said we should have put both cubs down. That it was cruel to keep them alive if they’d be in captivity their whole life.”
He didn’t know what to say, and doubted she’d be happy with his answer, regardless of whether he agreed with her or not. She looked so lost, so melancholy. He was half-afraid if he said the wrong thing, she’d turn and run. She seemed to be looking at or for something that wasn’t there. He had a sudden strong urge to stand behind her, wrap his arms around her and say, “It’ll be okay.”
He’d done that many times for Bridget. And more often than not, the lost expression evaporated into joy.
What would Katie Vincent look like with a joyful heart?
Instead of moving toward her, however, he said, “Aquila could be content here. We started work on this enclosure two years ago, adding to it whenever we had the money. Finally, when it was finished, we went searching for the right cat to fill it.”
“Did you know exactly what you were searching for?”
“No, I just knew I wanted another big cat, a bit younger than Terrance the Terrible. We have the mountain lions and the cougar, but they’re fairly common in Arizona. I wanted a jaguar. Arizona is the last state with any left in the wild. But I thought I could settle for a big cat that was a bit more exotic, a bit more comfortable with humans and one that came with a history. A big draw for the park. Aquila fit that bill exactly, or he would if...”
She shuddered and he knew he’d hit a hot spot.
“If you take an Arizona jaguar out of the wild and bring him here,” Katie said, “soon there will be none left in the wild.”
“I agree, which is why Aquila was perfect,” he said easily, realizing that while she claimed not to have had contact with wild animals for the last decade, her heart and opinion had remained sympathetic to their plight.
He continued, watching her eyes while he spoke, hoping to convince her that they were on the same side, at least when it came to acquiring animals.
“We rehabilitate here. The animals we keep are ones, like Aquila, who have been in captivity for so long they wouldn’t survive in the wild. Plus, I don’t have a jaguar, and even if one became available I couldn’t...”
When he didn’t continue, she said, “Couldn’t?”
But he wasn’t ready to admit that even should a jaguar become available, they couldn’t afford it. So he changed the subject to Terrance, hoping to distract her from a question he didn’t want to answer.
“Like Aquila, Terrance is also a big draw and is comfortable with humans, but he was raised as if he were Ruth’s child. He still wants to sit on her lap. The kids love him. My sister loved him. He’s had the wild trained right out of him. He’s leash-trained.”
Katie shook her head, every expression indicating she wasn’t impressed with Terrance’s rearing. A little surprising since usually only the hard-core animal activists were distressed over Terrance.
But her words were curt. “Don’t ever think that Terrance is anything but wild. You can take the cat out of the jungle, but you can’t take the jungle out of the cat. Doesn’t matter the age. Surely Jasper told you this.”
“Jasper has, over and over. But when you meet Terrance, you’ll see what I mean.”
Katie frowned, seemed to shake herself out of whatever