Katie's Rescue

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 used to have Terrance here,” Ruth confided. “If I had my way, I’d still have him and maybe more.”

“I understand,” Katie murmured, trying not to sound disapproving.

Ruth probably didn’t have a clue how much Katie understood. Katie’s childhood had revolved around how the land would best house the animals and how the paychecks would best feed and care for them. Any extra money was earmarked for the next animal. Not that Katie would have asked for it, but there’d never been talk of putting something aside for her and Janie’s college expenses.

Which was another reason why the sale of Bob’s estate had been so necessary. Katie had her own bills to pay and had been worried about Janie’s college expenses. And for a brief but blessed period, before Luke Rittenhouse’s phone call, Katie hadn’t worried.

Her father’s death had provided a stability the man himself had never offered.

“This place is really too big for me,” Ruth went on. “My husband liked to entertain. He purchased Terrance for that reason. He thought Terrance would be a great showpiece. He was surprised when I fell in love with the beast.”

“A lion’s a pretty expensive showpiece,” Katie commented.

“Grant didn’t care.”

Judging by the size of their house, Katie believed her.

“Is it all right with your husband that I’m staying in your guesthouse? I mean, you don’t really know me.”

“Jasper knows you. That’s good enough for me. Plus, you’ll be helping with Aquila. As for my husband, he’s been dead for seven years, and I don’t miss him a bit. Turned out he got me for the same reason he got Terrance. He thought I was a good showpiece.”

“How long were you married?”

“Thirty-two years.”

“That’s a long time to keep a showpiece.”

“He didn’t dare get rid of me. After just ten years of marriage, I knew where his bodies were buried.”

Looking at the expanse of desert that made up Ruth’s front yard, Katie figured the bodies could all be buried right here and no one would ever find them.

“Until we find out why you’ve been fainting, I don’t want you in the guesthouse. You can have one of the guest rooms upstairs and to the right. Take a shower, get something to eat and enjoy a nap.”

She led Katie to a room bigger than Katie’s apartment back in Dallas. She disappeared for a moment, returning with a clean, albeit too big, T-shirt and robe.

“I’ll be heading back to Bridget’s. I have a tour to guide this afternoon,” Ruth said. “I’m leaving my cell number here by the phone. If you need anything, just call. Now take a shower and get some sleep. You’ll feel better in no time.”

Then she patted Katie on the shoulder and was gone, leaving Katie feeling very much alone.

“Luke Rittenhouse,” Katie whispered, “I hope you’re already considering plan B, because if I’m plan A, it’s already failed.”

* * *

THE DAY HAD started atypically with a crisis of the human kind instead of the animal kind. Even so, as Luke finally made it through his morning routine, he took satisfaction in noting that the keepers and other employees were doing their jobs, the gift shop and concessions had their doors open, the front gate was manned and had a line and the animals were being cared for.

At two, Luke stood in line—always a good sign—and purchased a hot dog from one of the venders and made his way to Aquila’s enclosure.

“You need to eat better,” Ruth admonished Luke as he finished the last bite. He wasn’t surprised to see her there, sitting on the bench just watching. She loved all the animals, except possibly the snakes, but the cats were her favorites.

“You get Katie settled in?”

“Dropped her off, showed her the guest room, came back here. I was only gone about ten minutes.”

“You could have taken some time off and helped her out a bit.” For some reason, he had to know Katie was taken care of. She was so feminine, so sensitive.

“I’m pretty sure she just needs sleep and maybe someone to watch out for her.”

Luke hoped sleep would do the trick. As for needing someone to look out for her, he was a little worried about how many times he’d wanted to do just that.

If she’d simply stayed in his office and slept on the couch, he’d know she was all right. Ruth’s was a mile away and Katie was there alone.

“Look. Aquila’s just lying there.” Ruth interrupted his thoughts. She adjusted her glasses, the same light blue shade as the BAA shirt she wore, and squinted as if hoping the view would change. “I liked it better this morning when he was disgruntled, pacing back and forth.”

“I’ll take either way as long as we can get some weight on him.”

“What do we try next?” Ruth wasn’t one to give up, but the fact that she even asked the question told Luke that she was out of ideas.

“I’m working on it.”

“I believed Jasper,” Ruth muttered. “He said she was a natural with animals, even better than her father.”

High praise since Katie hadn’t yet been a teen the last time Jasper had worked with her.

Ruth’s radio sounded before Luke could respond. Meredith’s voice crackled over the line. “Ruth, you’ve got a group of Red Hat Ladies waiting for you at the store.”

“Ah, right on time. See you later.” Ruth loped off, ready to meet her friends and show them her babies, Terrance and the animal park.

Luke watched her head back toward the front, weaving between the afternoon visitors, stopping occasionally to answer a question or give a direction.

If she were forty years younger, she’d be the perfect woman for him.

The thought gave him pause—what woman would be perfect for him?

It certainly wasn’t Katie Vincent. He’d truly expected her to have a change of heart the minute she saw Aquila. He expected her to work miracles, the way Ruth did.

Deep down, he’d been hoping she’d be able to do more for them based on all Jasper had shared. Maybe he’d been hoping that Katie Vincent was someone like her dad, and would be able to miraculously solve all of Bridget’s problems.

He could use a miracle.

But he’d been wrong to even let his thoughts go in that direction. And, come to think of it, Jasper had been very careful about what he shared—and even more careful about what he hadn’t shared—when it came to Katie.

But, in his heart, Luke wanted this miracle, this woman. The one who felt such responsibility. The one who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. The one who made him want to scoop her up and convince her all was well with the universe.

But with an animal dying and a park on the brink of disaster, she wasn’t the one he needed. 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 argument she’d been about to make and said, “I doubt that. At the same time, I have to admit that Aquila and the others have a good home here, so I’m glad you took an interest in my father’s animals. You’re like him. He was always looking for an animal’s potential, always looking for something to sell. Sometimes it got in the way of common sense, though.”

A family joined them and a stroller separated Luke from Katie. As the dad read aloud the plaque in front of Aquila’s enclosure, the family crowded close, hoping to see the cat move.

Aquila was as still as Katie, though, both lost in their own thoughts.

“I wish I could have met your dad,” Luke said.

“You probably would have got along well.” She didn’t look at him when she said the words, and for some reason it bothered him.

Even though he’d never met her father, Luke doubted they were much alike outside of their profession. He’d never have sent his children off to be raised by a relative. He, like every employee here, loved the animals, but not over family.

A missed softball game or romantic dinner was one thing. A missed childhood another.

“I—” Before he could tell her how unfair the comparison was, yet another family joined them and an additional stroller separated Luke from Katie.

The two parents hoisted their little ones up for a better look, encouraging the kids to find the panther. The little girl located Aquila first, although the little boy tried to take credit, too.

“Pretty,” the little boy said.

The father of the group dutifully read the plaque in front of the exhibit: Aquila is from Africa. Although called a black panther, he is really a black leopard. He is fifteen years old and can dance to “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

Luke hadn’t had time to come up with decent copy for Aquila’s inscription, and Adam hadn’t yet painted him on the wall in front of the animal park. It didn’t matter. Aquila was a draw. Even now the family lingered. Aquila was doing his part, without a single movement, to help keep Bridget’s AZ Animal Adventure going.

If only they could keep him alive.

As a privately owned animal park, Bridget’s received no state money, so Luke was constantly double-checking the figures. They earned money from admissions and concessions, but the lifeblood of Bridget’s was donations given by families, corporations and nonprofit groups.

He needed to keep the investors happy, show them that Bridget’s was a well-run, growing operation. He had to support the animals and the people who worked for him.

Her father had had to support the animals, too, but the fact that they’d lived in cages said it all. They were half of the equation. The other half being Bob himself and the attention he craved.

Jasper had been his only long-term employee.

When the family closest to him and Katie moved on, Luke sat beside her on the bench. “I went online and found some YouTube videos of your dad.”

She didn’t act surprised. “There’s probably plenty. His second-favorite place was in front of a camera.”

“What was his first?”

“In front of a live audience.”

Luke believed her. In the clips, he’d watched Bob Vincent brighten under the spotlight and at the attention of the late-night hosts. He hadn’t seem to notice that the late-night hosts were more focused on Ollie, the orangutan, who actually served tea; George, the brown bear, who weighed in at six hundred pounds and would join Ollie at the table—not to have tea but to hold hands! As for Candy, the spider monkey, she gathered up the teacups and arranged them on the talk show hosts’ desks.

Oh, the hosts were very glad Bob was there—to stand between them and the wild animals.

“You were in a few of those clips, looking very young and very serious.”

“I was always scared to death.”

“You didn’t look it.”

“I was taught to never show fear, never run. On that stage, I had an important job, especially with Aquila, who was my charge. I had to make sure he didn’t get frightened or feel like he was being backed into a corner. I made sure all my movements were calm and I was as still as possible.”

“I only saw a few clips with Aquila. He never left the cage.”

“That always pissed my dad off. Tyre wasn’t responding to Dad’s training. And though Aquila and I were doing great, because of my age and some laws, I couldn’t handle him during a live show.”

“That explains why I saw Aquila attempting to dance to ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun’ in a cage where he didn’t have enough room to turn.”

Katie laughed, letting down her guard for a moment. “I remember that show. Aquila didn’t really get to dance. It was more like he backed up, raised his shoulders, backed up some more and then playfully leaped forward.”

“He stole the show with his haughty ‘I don’t have to act cute, I am cute’ attitude.”

“That he did,” Katie agreed.

Luke had watched the clips, trying to understand the man and his techniques. It only took a few clips for Luke to realize how distant Bob was. He used a clicker to give commands to the animals. He touched them, but not much. And, unlike the animal lovers Luke knew, Bob was more aware of where the cameras were than what the animals were doing.

Katie, meanwhile, had interacted with the animals. She’d smiled while accepting pretend tea from Ollie. She’d gently put a napkin on George’s lap and held his hand while she did it. She’d helped Candy, their spider monkey, clean up the cups.

But anyone watching could see that her smile grew wider and her face truly lit up when she was with Aquila. She’d quietly danced right along with the cat, up close to the cage, comfortable in a way her father wasn’t.

Aquila was her love.

But she’d clearly not been posing for the audience like her father. She didn’t even look at the cameras. She’d not been selling the animals and their tricks to the public.

“You didn’t care for it much, did you?” Luke asked when the family changed their position, vying for a better viewing spot.

“What?”

“Being on television with the animals.”

She gave a half grimace. “Why do you say that?”

“In the clips I watched, you were always quiet, elegant and willing to do whatever the animals needed, but you never seemed comfortable.”

“No, the lights were always hot, and the animals, except for Candy, were always disgruntled and off their routine. I was always afraid something would go wrong because the people around us weren’t animal people. Once, a secretary moved to pet Aquila’s mom. She’d have lost a finger if my father hadn’t stopped her. We had signs warning people not to approach the animals without talking to my father first, but it’s as if people thought the signs didn’t apply to them.”

The family with the stroller finished taking pictures and moved on. Katie, back to being tense, still watched Aquila. After a moment, she said, “I don’t think panthers were meant to be performers. My father should have figured that out with his mother. She was beautiful, which is why he kept her, but she wouldn’t be trained. The only thing she did to earn money was let people look at her and give birth to two cubs that made it out of infancy. That’s when my father finally made some money on her. He sold the photographs to every magazine and news show that promised a check.”

“I’ve never seen them, but I hear you were in quite a few of those photographs,” Luke said.

“Like anything in my father’s menagerie, I didn’t get a choice. He said ‘Smile’ and I smiled.”

“We don’t focus on tricks here,” Luke said. “We focus instead on natural behaviors. If an animal wouldn’t have the behavior in the wild, we don’t develop the behavior here. The only exceptions are the animals, like yours, that come to us with learned behaviors. And as long as it doesn’t endanger the animal or people, we appreciate their skill. If a bear juggling lunch boxes will increase revenue so we can have enough food, medical care and personnel, we encourage them to perform.”

She nodded but didn’t comment.

“By the way, when you let your guard down in those films, like when you were dancing with Aquila, you had the audience eating out of your hands. You were quite good in front of the cameras, and some of those long-ago smiles actually seemed real. I think you protest too much. Maybe working with animals and showcasing what they can do is in your blood. If not, you could have fooled me.”

She pushed away from the wall, arms tight to her sides. Looking him right in the eye, she said, “Maybe you’re easy to fool.”

She stood, muttering something about exploitation and fools.

He formulated a comeback, only by the time he said the words aloud, she was too far away to hear them: “I may be a fool, but unlike in those clips, you haven’t smiled once since I’ve met you.”