by Rebecca Rode
Stephen smiled with an anticipation I couldn’t understand. This attorney had been dragging out the case for over a year now, and the quotes he’d shared with the press were at best intentionally misleading, and at worst outright lies. “Believe me, I have no intention of doing that.”
He stalked toward the attorney, waving at him to follow. Well, better Stephen than me. I’d already had enough experience with attorneys to last a lifetime. I started into the wind as a tumbleweed passed. My long hair whipped around my face and my nose filled with dust. Pulling up my hood, I ran.
At the aviary, even the humid interior felt nice after being choked with dust. The place was locked down and food had been brought in but hadn’t been placed in the feeders yet, as if someone had dropped the buckets mid-job. Probably when they got the call to check on the big cats. I took a few moments to dole out the food.
My phone buzzed in the pocket of my jeans. Still hefting the final bucket in one hand, I peeked at the caller ID and answered. “Hey, sis.”
“Everything okay there?” Bianca asked. “You sound out of breath.”
Using my knee to assist, I managed to dump the food without getting too much on the floor. “We’re just having a bit of wind, so we’re locking down the animals, but it should pass soon. Everything’s great. Sorry I missed our call yesterday.”
Bianca laughed. “You don’t have to check up on me every day, you know.”
At twenty-two, she was only a year younger than I was, but I’d been taking care of her since our mother died, years before Lily Perez became our guardian and we went to live at what would eventually become known as Lily’s House. Keeping track of Bianca wasn’t a habit I was likely to break any time soon. She was my best friend, not just a sister, and I missed her terribly. I’d almost passed up this job at the sanctuary because it meant leaving her in Phoenix. “You get that batch of pottery finished?”
“Oh, yes.” Bianca practically breathed the words with her excitement. “I can’t wait to show you my new stuff.”
“I’m still planning on driving to Phoenix this weekend, so I’ll see it all then.” So far, I’d made the three-and-a-half-hour trip south to see my sister every weekend.
“Well, I have a big surprise for you! You’re going to love it.” She paused. “At least I hope so.”
“I’m sure I will. How are you liking your new roommate?”
“She’s good.” Bianca’s voice sounded a little forced.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Since we’d aged out of the foster care system, we’d lived together in an apartment in Phoenix with some of our foster sisters from Lily’s House—except for the past month that I’d been in Kingman, of course. Knowing the others were keeping an eye out for Bianca was the only way I’d been able to leave her, and I was still hoping she’d take me up on my offer to share my rented house here after she graduated from college this month.
“Nothing. She’s fine. I’m just on my way somewhere right now, and traffic is being stupid.”
“Oh, I see.” I wasn’t exactly buying her story, but a storm was coming and I didn’t want her out in it. Phoenix wasn’t far enough away to be missed completely. “Well, I’m hanging up then so you can concentrate. Call me after you get wherever you’re going. I should have the animals squared away soon.”
“Okay, but did Betsy have her babies yet?”
“Nope. Not yet. Should be soon, though. I’ll let you know.”
“You love it there, don’t you?” Bianca said. “I can hear it every time we talk. You finally found your place.”
My place, meaning a calling in life, like the one Bianca had felt from the moment she’d picked up a piece of clay at our high school. She’d been confident that I’d find something I could be as passionate about, but it never happened, not even through four years of college and bachelor degrees in biology and chemistry.
By the time I’d finished three months at the research firm where I’d been hired after college, I was beginning to believe a “place” wasn’t something most ordinary folks like me ever found. Six months later, I’d quit the firm.
This job at the sanctuary had been a fluke, and I’d intended it as a short term venture until I figured out where I really wanted to end up. Yet after only the first day, it was clear why my future had eluded me before. Who would have thought working with exotic animals was an option, much less a calling? But I belonged at the sanctuary as I’d never belonged anywhere else, except for maybe Lily’s House.
“You were right,” I conceded. “Now concentrate on driving. We’ll talk later.”
As we hung up, a faint rumbling came from outside the aviary, and several birds let out loud ca-caws in answer. I was glad the aviary was built to withstand a hurricane because too many of our birds were maimed or wounded and wouldn’t be safe out in this storm.
Ducking into the wind once more, I hurried past our large flight enclosures, where our non-tropical birds had already taken refuge in their wooden structures. Beyond the flight enclosures, I found the ostriches already in their shelters as well, but I had to entice the emu in. By the time I’d finished locking her down, my eyes stung with grit and I was wishing I had goggles.
Now for the monkeys, who were never very cooperative unless bribery was involved. I went inside and rattled the food dishes to attract their attention, and they came hurtling inside. Unfortunately, with the volunteer staff sent home and the rest of us securing the sanctuary, there was no food yet, and might not be any until much later, and they weren’t shy about squealing their discontent and banging on the bars as I locked them in.
“Sorry guys.” Once the five shelters were secure, I hurried on to the raccoon habitat, where we’d release Betsy after her quarantine was over. The raccoons were already inside their underground structures, huddled together for comfort. “That’s it. Smart little creatures.” Raccoons were good at self-preservation.
Only the small cats were left. The air was positively dark now, and I held the front of my jacket over my mouth to avoid breathing in the dust. This was bad—really bad. A sense of dread filled me. I hoped Bianca had arrived at her destination, or that the storm wasn’t as bad in Phoenix.
The small cats were inside their underground dens, except Bob, who was prowling along the fence, letting out irritable roars that made shivers crawl down my spine. Going inside each enclosure, I pulled down and locked the wood doors over the other dens while contemplating how to get the bobcat inside his.
Even as I watched, a large piece of wood sailed past, slamming into the fence near Bob, scaring him further. I needed to secure him before he was hit by something, but with how worked up he was, enticing him to safety was going to be a challenge. Like many of our wild animals, Bob had been rescued from a Vegas animal act, and he was accustomed to being around people. On a normal day, I wouldn’t be averse to going inside and calling him to me for a nice scratch—but only a crazy person would jump inside his habitat before he’d eaten, especially when he was this upset.
I was debating whether or not I had time to go for a tranquilizer gun when Declan appeared, his hair wild from the wind, curling in every direction. He looked like a powerful Norse God, stepping out of the storm to come to my aid. Without argument, he was one of the most ruggedly attractive men I’d ever met, and for the slightest instant, I forgot to breathe.
Grinning widely, he tossed me a small sack, and something heavy squished in my hands as I caught it. At least it wouldn’t be me Bob would take a bite out of today.
“Gee, thanks.” My heart beat oddly in a way that had nothing to do with the storm but everything with Declan’s presence.
“I figured temperamental Bob wouldn’t go eas—” Declan froze in mid-utterance as he stared at something over my shoulder.
“What are you—” I turned to see the entire horizon painted a dark gray, a maelstrom of . . . something heading in our direction. “Is that dirt?” I’d lived in Arizona all my life, and I’d never witnessed a sight so massive and utterly
terrifying.
Declan nodded. “I think so. We’d better hurry.”
Chapter 2
THE TASTY SLAB OF RAW USDA Choice Beef was exactly the enticement the bobcat needed. With relief, I locked Bob safely inside and hurried to join Declan.
“We’ll have to board the gift shop windows,” he said, his voice hurried and tight.
“There are some two-by-fours in the quarantine.”
Declan nodded. “It’s a start.”
We ran together, fighting the ever-increasing wind. As we rounded the quarantine building, our hands brushed and heat spread up my arm. What was going on with me? I angled farther away so it wouldn’t happen again.
The wind ripped the quarantine door from my grasp as I opened it, but fortunately Declan managed to prevent it from banging open. It took both of us to shut the door behind us. We quickly loaded up with the wood and staggered back into the storm. The entire way back to the gift shop, I fought not to lose my load, clutching it against the aggressive blasts of wind.
Inside the gift shop, we found Stephen and the attorney arguing. “. . . over a million dollars to feed our animals every year,” Stephen was saying. “Not only did your client directly interfere with our ability to operate, but he endangered one of our tigers.”
“Well, you’ve certainly publicized the occurrence enough,” Ross retorted. “That should have more than made up the little you lost.” The attorney turned to us as we approached. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Declan rolled his eyes. “People have donated to money toward the lawsuit to help the animals and because what your client did was wrong, not to lessen his responsibility. It makes no difference how much we’ve raised. No jury in the world is going to buy the sob story you’re trying to spin. We’re the victims here. All the rest is so much hot air.”
“You’ve vilified my client,” spluttered the attorney.
Stephen snorted. “It’s true we’ve told everyone what happened, and we’re proud of the support people have shown. However, your client’s actions are the only thing that have vilified him. For the record, we officially reject your settlement offer of an apology.”
Ross’s face flushed and his thin nostrils flared. “You should talk to your attorney first.”
“I don’t need to talk to my attorney,” Stephen said. “He works for me, and if he were here, he’d tell you the same thing. Now if you can’t make it home, you’re welcome to hang out in our breakroom while we finish securing the place.”
Ross stalked toward the door, reaching past me for the handle, but he froze as he stared out the window, swearing under his breath. The angry wall of dirt had nearly arrived.
“Come on,” Declan said to Stephen. “Grab the toolbox.”
Stephen nodded. “I wonder why the others aren’t back yet to help. Hope they’re okay. Wish now I hadn’t sent all the volunteers home.” He snapped his fingers at the attorney, who was still gazing blankly out the window. “You, Ross! Snap out of it. If that dirt breaks the windows in here, it’s not going to be pretty. Empty some of those boxes behind the counter. We can nail them over the windows when we run out of wood.”
We left Ross emptying a box of plush tigers and went back outside. The air was already much thicker with dirt, and I pushed my face into my arm as I struggled against the wind with my load of wood. A shingle that had been ripped from a roof somewhere flew past, barely missing my head.
Declan and I held the wood in place as Stephen used the nail gun. After a minute, I grabbed it from him. “Let me do that.” For someone who’d practically grown up at the sanctuary building habitats, he didn’t seem to know how to drive a decent nail.
Stephen grimaced as I rapidly fired the nails into the wood. “Those’ll be tough to get out. We’ll have to repaint. Again.”
Oh, so damaging the new paint was his problem, not driving the nails. Good thing I didn’t have such reservations.
“Can’t be helped,” Declan said.
“I’ll help you repaint,” I added.
We only had enough wood for the two largest windows, and Stephen went inside for the flattened cardboard boxes as I fired in the last few nails. He returned in less than a minute. The storm was in full fury now, and my cheeks felt raw with the pounding grit in the air.
As we pushed toward the next window, I gaped at a tree trunk coming our way, bouncing end over end like a stick some giant had thrown to his dog. “Look out!” I screamed, but the wind tore the words away. I watched helplessly as the tree hurtled toward Stephen.
Then Declan was there, shoving him out of the way. Too late. A sickening crack, and the tree connected with Stephen’s right leg. Both men sprawled to the ground and the cardboard boxes caught the wind and flipped away. I’d barely reached the men when a second loud crash told me the tree had found another target: the quarantine. Through the storm, I could barely see part of it jutting from a huge hole in the side of the structure.
Oh, no, Betsy! Her cage was in the front middle of the building—right where the tree had hit. I felt sick at the idea of what might have happened to her. But there was nothing I could do about it now, not before making sure Stephen was all right.
“Help me get him inside!” Declan shouted.
Setting the safety and looping my arm through the handle of the nail gun, I grabbed one of Stephen’s arms and helped drag him into the gift shop, where we both had to release him to get the door closed. After shutting out the howling wind, I knelt down next to Stephen. “Are you okay?” I asked.
His face was ashen beneath a thick layer of dust. “It’s just my leg. Better get the windows from the inside as best you can. Too dangerous out there.”
Declan was already grabbing more boxes, and dumping contents the gift shop workers hadn’t yet had time to unload after the last shipment several days ago. I lifted the nail gun and went to work. At least this way we could stop some of the dust from entering, even if the windows broke. Not to mention protect ourselves from flying glass. That is, if the cardboard held, which was an unknown at this point. Another tree trunk would probably sail right through both the glass and the cardboard.
That made me worry about even more Betsy and her unborn babies out in the quarantine. Was she all right?
When the remaining two windows were as secure as we could make them, we also covered the window in the adjoining breakroom. “That should do it,” Declan said.
“Just don’t stand too close to the windows,” I muttered.
“Right.” Declan led the way back to Stephen, who still sprawled in the gift shop near the door. He was pale, and his forehead furrowed with pain, but he wasn’t moaning and there was no blood leaking through his pants, which I took as a good sign.
“Help me get him to the breakroom,” Declan said to Ross.
The attorney glanced down at his suit and then back at us, his bottom lip curled. “He’s covered in dirt.”
Seriously? What a jerk. “I’ll help.” I squatted down like Declan and grabbed one of Stephen’s arms, draping it over my neck.
“Lift on three,” Declan said.
Somehow we got Stephen up and half dragged, half carried him through the gift shop aisles to the door at the back and into to the employee breakroom.
“You’re strong for such a little thing,” Stephen said, biting back a groan as we reached the couch.
There had been a time when no one would have called me little, and I should be happy about his comment, but instead I felt partially exposed. “You learn to pull your weight where I grew up,” I said, keeping my tone casual.
I glanced over at Declan to see him watching me intently. I wondered if he could somehow see past my current exterior to the frightened, abused, overweight orphan I’d once been. “What?” I said.
He grinned. “Your hair.”
I touched it gingerly, to find it matted and filthy, as though I’d let it dry on its own after mudwrestling. I combed it with my fingers for a few seconds before giving up.
“I think it lo
oks kind of sexy,” Stephen said.
I rolled my eyes but didn’t comment because he was breathing oddly. “Better find him some painkillers,” I told Declan as I pushed Stephen to lie down on the couch. “Hold still,” I added to Stephen. “I need to check out your leg.”
Gingerly, I began touching his leg, working slowly from his ankle up to his knee, where he gasped and tried to jerk away—only to groan with the additional pain the movement caused.
“Your leg might be broken, but I can’t feel any protruding bones or anything out of place, so you’re probably not in immediate danger.”
“He might have internal bleeding,” Declan said. “We’d better keep a close eye on him just in case.”
Stephen groaned loudly. “I’m fine. Just get me a pill. Then let’s try to call the others on the walkies.”
“Got ibuprofen right here.” Declan grabbed a bottle from the first aid kit on the counter by the sink and began searching through the cupboard for a glass.
With everything under control here, my thoughts returned to Betsy. “I’ll be right back.” Leaving Declan to watch Stephen, I went out to the main gift shop area where Ross was still standing, as useless as ever.
He perked up when he saw me. “You got any drinks here?”
“There’s a vending machine outside.” I smiled with false sweetness, jerking my head toward the door.
He gave me a sour glare that almost made me laugh. Striding to the fridge in the corner, he pulled out a can of soda. “So, do you like working for this outfit? Are you happy here? You must hear a lot of scuttlebutt. Bet you know all the ways they take advantage of their workers and how much money they waste.”
“What I know,” I told him, “is if you were any kind of an attorney, you’d stop egging your client on and advise him to take responsibility.” I held up my hands in mock discovery. “Oh, wait. Then the case would be over and you wouldn’t be able to bill him attorney fees.” I turned from him, making my way to the door, where I stopped for a parting shot. “Look, you aren’t fooling anyone except your client, who’s probably stupid enough to believe he’s got you fooled instead.”
