by Lynn Donovan
“You’re adorable.” He seemed surprised he’d said that. “I mean. Thank you for helping with the animals.”
“My pleasure.”
Clay Cutler entered from the back. “You folks ready to go?” His eyes landed on Ellen and curiosity wrinkled his brow. Then realization and he laughed. “Ellen Mae? Is that you under all that fur?”
“Mr. Cutler! Your wife forced me to wear this. Blame her for my ridiculous appearance.”
Millie sauntered into the front storage room with a heavy sigh. “I don’t want her catching her death because I didn’t provide her with appropriate outerwear. Her Grandpa’s coat just wasn’t enough.”
Clay kissed his wife’s forehead. “You are right as usual, sweetheart.”
Mr. Phinney grinned, watching the exchange between husband and wife. “I appreciate all of you helping. Now, let’s go get these exotics settled into that warehouse and fed.”
CHAPTER SIX
Clay Cutler, his two older sons, Niles, and Miss Myers walked through the mostly empty warehouse next to the train depot. It was a long rectangular building and perfect for temporarily holding his animals. It served the railroad to offload deliveries until the owner could come collect the items. This time of year, Miss Myers had explained, not much was ordered that wasn’t immediately picked up. That was why she had suggested Niles use the building to house his exotics until the storm passed.
Truth be told, until he met this amazing woman, he had no intention of stopping anywhere along the tracks until he set foot in Seattle. He’d hired Chinese workers in Montana to help clear the tracks so the train could make it this far. Something about Miss Myers replaced that determination with feelings he’d never experienced. His desire for delivering the exotics had taken a back seat to his desire to spend time with her. With several of the workers needing medical attention, probably from frostbite, and the increasing severity of the snowfall, and these feelings for this woman who would name a pig Clarence and chase him into the white-out storm, Niles wanted to figure out a way to stay put in Silverpines. Forever.
Well, at least for a little while.
His twin brother would understand. This storm will be the headline story in all the papers once it passes and the newspapers can be distributed. No one would fault him for giving up a hundred miles from his destination. Besides, if things worked out between him and Miss Myers, maybe she’d come with him to Seattle.
Could he be so bold as to think that?
Why would she want to leave this town to go with him? Who was he to persuade her to do such a thing? If she knew all there was to know about how he’d abandoned his father and his twin brother for his own selfish, inconsiderate adventures, she’d turn tail and run as hard and fast as a gazelle from a hungry lion. Her Grandpa would kick him out of town as soon as the train could move again. In fact, he should march out of here and go straight to that Chinatown south of Silverpines and pay a new crew to clear the tracks and move his menagerie on down the line to his brother’s waiting zoo. That’s what he should do. He nodded to himself.
“So, you think this will work?” Miss Myers touched his arm.
That energy he’d felt in the mercantile once again shot up his arm, the radiant heat of it almost hurt, and yet it felt so good. Her eyes were filled with such exhilaration. He mentally shook his wandering mind back to the warehouse and looked around, really looked at the space. Would it work?
“It’s perfect.” Why did he say that? His mind was made up to go get another crew, keep going down the tracks to Seattle. She looked so pleased to have her suggestion accepted. And, to be honest, if he were to off-load the animals, this warehouse really was perfect. There was plenty of space to spread them out and divide the predators from prey. It was a short distance from the train itself. The dociles would be easy to steer in here. He’d have to figure out a way to get his majesty, the lion, and his lioness in without darting them. With his mended hip, he was even crankier than the ordinary ferocious jungle kings.
Niles could transfer the hay bales from the livestock cars into this warehouse for better insulation against the cold— he turned to Ellen with a sudden intake of air. His eyes widened with a brilliant idea. She reflected his gesture. “What?”
Why not use the bales to make a shoot from the train car to the warehouse, and have the lion and lioness walk here on their own. He could lay out some enticing hunks of meat in a sectioned-off area for them. He turned to Mr. Cutler. “You wouldn’t happen to have some fresh gazelle meat? Would you?”
Mr. Cutler’s eyes twinkled. “As a matter of fact, we’ve got some venison aging in our back room.”
“Perfect. I’ll buy it.” Niles turned to Miss Myers. “Thank you for suggesting this. It really is perfect. Let’s partition off sections according to which animals will go where, using the hay bales I have in the livestock cars. We’ll get the lions last. I have an idea I’m certain will work to transfer them without anybody getting hurt.”
Ellen grinned. “You’re welcome.”
He turned to Mr. Cutler and his sons. “If you and your boys can help me with this, I’ll pay you for your labor.”
Mr. Cutler turned to his boys with a smirk, then nodded and shrugged at the same time.
Niles slapped his hands together. “Good. Please stack the feed and the hay bales over there in that corner. Then bring the wagon alongside the livestock cars and we’ll take all the insulating hay bales from there, stack them in the wagon, and bring them in here. I’ll do the same arrangement here as in the livestock cars. It’ll serve two purposes. Insulate the warehouse from the cold and separate the animals for their safety.” He bundled himself with scarf, hat, and gloves as he spoke. “After we transfer the animals, I’ll feed them and then they’ll settle in to rest. Once we unload your wagon the second time, if you’ll be so kind as to get that venison, I’ll set up the area for the lions and you can put the meat in there.”
“Sure. Come on boys, let’s get these sacks unloaded.” Mr. Cutler and his sons went to work, passing the large sacks from one to another and stacking it in the area Niles had indicated.
He and Miss Myers pressed against the driving wind to enter the livestock cars with the docile animals. They leapt to their feet as the sliding door opened. Miss Myers rushed in, Niles followed close behind her. “I’m taking a lesson from you and Clarence.” He pulled several leather straps out from behind his back.
Miss Myer’s laugh sounded like tinkling bells. She took some of the straps and gingerly approached the bongo. “Aw, what happened to his horn?”
“It is actually an antler, but he’s the one I told you about in the storm at sea who broke an antler and it nearly pummeled him to death.”
“Awwwww.” Compassionate concern washed over her face, she reached out and stroked the bongo’s head. Amazingly the proud antelope stood still as she tied the strap around his neck. Niles stood back, fascinated at her gift with the animals. A chilling swirl of snow whipped into the train car, reminding him they needed to hurry. He approached the eland, and then the dik dik. With all three cervidae species lassoed, he led Miss Myers with the single-horned bongo and him with the dik dik out of the car and over to the warehouse. Tying these three to eye-bolts against the wall of the warehouse, Niles mind drifted to memories of the cargo bay in the freighter. This warehouse was not so different, except it didn’t sway with the ocean waves.
He and Miss Myers returned to the next car and brought the smaller dog-like jackal and the large armored rodent-like pangolin. The two ostriches ran from him, flipping their wings and high-stepping to out-maneuver his attempt to capture them. Miss Myers flanked the birds and was able to subdue them with a gentle tune she hummed about pretty birds and pretty feathers. Niles chuckled at her technique. He’d never thought to sing to calm them down. “You know, I’ve seen locals in Africa race with these. They ride on their backs like a two legged horse.” He laughed. “It’s quite entertaining.”
She frowned at him, but continued her tranq
uilizing song as she led them over to the warehouse.
Once all the dociles were unloaded. Niles sectioned off walls by stacking the hay bales like bricks for a building. He brought feeding troughs and watering buckets with the animals and placed one in each pen area. He filled each with feed or tore apart the hay bought at Cutler’s Mercantile. He moved the tied animals into each stall and closed the entrance with a bale laid on its short side. A potbelly stove was stoked and Niles scooped large buckets of snow to melt in a bucket to water the animals. It would take all day and maybe into the night, but the animals would be safer in here, out of the blizzard, than in the livestock cars.
He sighed, the resolution of stopping here in Silverpines settling in his heart. Miss Myers worked hard. She had an instinct for what to do to appropriately prepare the individual species’ area. How could she know so much about the exotic animals she had never seen? Niles considered this. She had a menagerie of her own. Perhaps, although they were exotic, they were not so different from the deer, elk, rooster, and pig she housed.
“It’s going to be dark soon, Miss Myers. Your grandpa has got to be worried about you.”
“No. I had one of the Cutler twins run a message to him before we started over here.”
“Oh. Good.” Niles had missed that. “How many children do they have anyway?”
Miss Myers laughed. “Millie had four, Mr. Cutler brought five with him when he answered her advert for a groom, and their family is expanding as we speak.”
“Yes.” He smiled sheepishly. “I noticed.” His eyebrow lifted high on his forehead, revealing what he wouldn’t say.
“I know.” Miss Myers giggled. “Millie was pretty shocked too, but she’s adjusted beautifully and they are so very happy together. She is such a good mother to all of them, it’s as if she has forgotten which ones she bore and which ones came with the husband.”
Niles smiled. “As it should be.”
Ellen tilted her head and looked at him in wonder. “I agree.”
They exchanged something emotional. He couldn’t explain it. Every fiber of his being wanted to take her into his arms and tell her how amazing she was. She didn’t move back from him as he approached, but blinked and held his gaze. “Miss Myers—”
The warehouse door suddenly swung open. “Mr. Phinney!” Clay Cutler pulled the draft horse and wagon into the storehouse. His son, Ryder, tossed down the reins and leapt from the seat while Mr. Cutler pulled the door closed behind them. “I’ve got your venison. It’s in two sections, so we can put one in the lions area and one in the other, what’d you say it was?”
Niles jerked back from Miss Myers. He had forgotten they were not completely alone. Disappointment washed over her eyes as well. Or did he misread her? “A cheetah.”
“Yeah, a cheetah. Let’s go get those cats.”
“Very good. Thank you. Let’s lay out a path to the cats’ makeshift den.”
“We brought more hay bales, too, Mr. Phinney.” Ryder nodded with pride. He was a smart boy, strong too. Niles reached into his pocket and tossed him a silver dollar.
“Wow, thanks.” Ryder examined the coin with excitement.
“You deserve it, Ryder. Thank you for all your help today.”
“No problem.” He pocketed the coin and leapt into the wagon seat. He clucked his tongue and pulled back on the horse’s reins, causing the animal to back the wagon into the snowstorm. Ryder jumped down and began unloading the hay, stacking it at the same width of the wagon, and in the same brick-without-mortar-style Niles had done earlier.
Niles and Clay rushed out into the wind and continued to build the path to the last train car where the lions and cheetah were stored. Miss Myers stepped up to the warehouse door, ready to close it. Niles shouted against the wind, “I’ll give you a whistle when we are ready to open it again.” She nodded and leaned back to pull the door closed. Niles was pleased she’d stayed in the warehouse. The animals needed the door closed as much as possible during this transition from train to warehouse. And the heat generated by the animals and the potbelly stove could only build up if the warehouse was sealed.
Niles would release the lions first. Once they were in their section, he’d release the cheetah. Hopefully the smell of thawing venison would entice them all straight to the pen he’d set up. He stood on the running board, ready to open the livestock door. What would he do if the lions jumped the bale walls? He stepped down, wincing from his increasingly sore leg, and hobbled with his cane to his Pullman. Lifting the seat, he pulled out his wooden weapons box and unlatched the lock. He pulled out a rifle and three red-tailed darts. If he had to, he’d tranquilize them. But only if they escaped.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ellen held the door as if it might fling open if she didn’t. She was cold to the bone, but she’d never say anything. Helping Mr. Phinney was exhilarating. Just being around him was exhilarating. His love for his exotic animals showed in every careful plan he made to get them safely transferred to the warehouse. She was so pleased to have thought of it. Good thing she and Tonya Watts were friends. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have known the state of the warehouse and its empty condition during winter.
The Good Lord must be looking over Mr. Phinney and his animals. The stories he told her about surviving that storm at sea and their trek across America, especially once they hit this storm. She shook her head. The animals’ rhythmic breathing indicated they were calming down. Their exhales were warming the warehouse, too. The cold in her bones lessened to a slight chill. She loosened the wool scarf around her neck and pulled the fur lined gloves from her hands. She would stay near the door, listening for Mr. Phinney’s whistle. She’d never heard him whistle and hoped she recognized it over the howling wind.
She pressed her ear to the wooden door and listened. He was such an intriguing man. She would be sure to give Clarence some of his favorite scraps tonight when they got home. After all, if he hadn’t run out into the storm, she’d have never known Mr. Phinney and his amazing animals had crept into Silverpines.
A shrill whistle, sounding similar to a bull whip, swung into the air with one long note, ending with a higher staccato, then a yip-yip-yip, like a wagon train master signaling to the drivers to move forward. Ellen scrambled to get the gloves back on her hands, and pulled with all her might to get the door open. She squeezed behind the wall of hay bales, so that the cats would have nothing obstructing their path into their designated pens. There were two. She’d shove the gate-bale in place which opened the alternate path to the cheetah’s pen, and hide again behind the next bale gate. Once the cheetah ran into her pen, she’d push the bale gate into place and the task would be done.
At least she hoped it went that smoothly. It should, if she didn’t fail Mr. Phinney with her responsibilities in the plan. She grimaced. Failure could mean she would be mauled by the ferocious cats.
A shiver ran down her spine. It had nothing to do with the new swirl of snow curling into the warehouse. Mr. Phinney and Clay yipped and hollered, like cowboys on a cattle drive. They must be directing the two lions down the path. She could hear pounding of paws in the snow, and then the snorting and hissing of two very large cats. They ran past her safe place. She peeked over the wall of hay to be sure they went to the venison quarter.
They did, and viciously attacked it, pulling the shoulder between them like a child playing tug of war. Only this was no child, or sweet kitty cat. Ellen pushed out from behind the bale, shoving it in front of her until it slid into the hole left for the cats to enter their pen. She exhaled, leaning against the bale. That worked. Now for the cheetah.
She ran back behind the next bale already on its side and waited for the next cat to come running by.
“Yaaaaaah!” She heard Mr. Phinney yell. The cheetah growled in a high pitched, terrifying cat hiss.
“Get on with you!” Mr. Phinney hollered.
“Ryder! Get back!” Mr. Cutler screamed. Ellen sucked in air between her teeth. “Oh Lord, please make this go right!�
� What was the cheetah doing that they were yelling at Ryder. She closed her eyes to pray more. The cat didn’t run into her pen like the lions had. Something was wrong. She peeked over the bale. The cheetah was trying to climb the hay wall. Mr. Phinney was swinging a riffle at the cat, trying to knock her down. Without thinking, Ellen jumped out in the opening. “HEY!”
She stood with her feet wide apart and her hands out like she was going to catch the cheetah when it ran to her.
“Ellen! Move!” Mr. Phinney shrieked.
The cheetah looked over its shoulder and spotted Ellen. She jumped down from the bale wall. Her whiskers stiffened and twitched with her mouth stretching open with the feline growl. Ellen panted, forcing herself to say put to be sure the cat was coming toward her.
Mr. Phinney yelled something. She saw him in slow-motion, open his mouth and scream, but she couldn’t hear him or anything else for that matter. Her eyes and her attention were solely focused on the beautiful, spotted cheetah. It lunged forward. It was as if time had been frozen by the ice and snow. Ever so slowly, the cat elongated and landed on her front paws, dug her claws into the snow covered ground and pulled herself forward. Her hind legs passed her front and they too dug into the snow and she growled. Again, her front limbs stretched out in front of her body and lunged closer to Ellen. The cheetah ran the way her cats do when they’ve spotted a mouse across the barn.
Ellen jumped sideways, diving behind the hay bale and pushed her weight against the golden barrier. She heard the cat run past her, growling, then the growl became muffled against the deer meat. It was eating the carcass. Ellen shoved the bale gate into place, just as Mr. Phinney slammed into the back of her, pressing her against the hay. Her heart pounded in her ears.
“Are you alright?” He yelled louder than necessary for her to hear him. She tried to nod but he had her penned. “That was the dumbest thing anybody ever did!” He grabbed her by the shoulders, spinning her around and looked down at her. Tears stung her eyes. He looked so angry. But then she realized it was fear blazing in his eyes. He yanked her against his chest and hugged her so tight she couldn’t breathe.
