by Erin Marsh
“Do you want to hold one?” Lou, the elderly former owner of the zoo and its current veterinarian, asked. Clay started. At first, he thought the man was talking about gemstones and then realized he meant the wolf pup.
“Uh, are you sure I won’t hurt him?” Clay glanced down at the small tube of fur. The little animal looked so tiny, so vulnerable, lying next to the zoo’s capybara. The brown, kidney-shaped rodent had a knack for mothering the animal park’s orphans. Even Clay had heard about the unconventional nursemaid when she’d appeared on Good Morning America.
Lacey glanced over, her eyes as warm as a cup of hot chocolate on a snowy day. “Lou will make sure you take good care of the pup.”
“You just want me to fall in love with the little guys.” Clay reached down with one gloved finger and stroked the wolf’s back. Both he and Lacey had donned medical gloves before handling the lobos to prevent them from accidentally spreading disease to the baby animals.
“Maybe,” she admitted.
“They’re cute, but so are my calves,” Clay said, but he let Lou show him how to properly support the pup’s belly. The vet’s lined face was soft with affection for the little critter, and he watched closely as Clay carefully accepted the furry bundle. The small wolf instantly snuggled into Clay, trying to burrow between the buttons of his shirt. He would never admit it, but he was instantly smitten.
“Whoa there,” he said as he felt the tiny, cold nose brush against his skin. The pup began to squeak and wiggle. Despite the fact that the wolf’s eyes hadn’t opened, his black muzzle twitched back and forth in an endless quest for milk. One of his back legs had been splinted, but his front paws stretched wide as he voiced his demands for food.
“I’ve been around enough calves to know this little guy is hungry,” Clay said.
“Did you just compare a wolf to a cow?” Lacey asked.
“A baby mammal is a baby mammal.”
“He’s not completely wrong,” Lou said, his voice laced with amusement.
“See,” Clay said proudly, “the vet agrees with me.”
Lacey did not seem impressed. “I think you’ve just insulted the entire Canis lupus species.”
“What’s wrong with being compared to a calf?” Clay asked, feigning insult. He heard a bark of suppressed laughter from Lou.
“Well, for starters, bovines are not the most…well, intelligent of species—”
“So you’re an intellectual snob then?”
“I never said that,” Lacey said, clearly flustered. She scrunched her slightly upturned nose, reminding Clay of a befuddled pixie.
“A food-chain elitist then. If they’re not predators with razor-sharp minds and teeth, screw ’em. Herbivores just aren’t worth your attention—the poor schlubs munching their way through grass and clover.”
Lacey opened her mouth to dispute him but dissolved into laughter instead. Beside her, Lou joined in. Disturbed by the mirth, the pup in her arms began to squirm. Both humans instantly quieted for the animal’s sake, and Lacey brushed a soothing hand over the upset wolf.
“I like this man,” Lou pronounced as he gave Clay a friendly wink. “I’ve never heard anyone outtalk our girl when it comes to animals.”
Lacey ignored Lou’s observation as she turned to Clay. “Since you correctly diagnosed the little guy’s hunger, do you want to give him milk?”
Although Clay had helped bottle-feed calves rejected by their mothers, he’d never administered formula to a creature this small. Despite his reservations toward the species, Lacey’s offer appealed to him. “Do you mind?” he asked Lou.
“No,” the eighty-year-old said, his eyes twinkling, “but I think Lacey might be playing a trick on you.”
“How so?”
“Before they get their bottle, we help them go to the bathroom.”
Now that momentarily stopped Clay. “They don’t poop on their own?”
“A lot of species don’t at this stage,” Lacey quickly explained, obviously eager to defend her beloved wolves. “Panda bears are another—”
“Yes, but they only eat plants, and we all know your opinion on creatures who prefer leafy things.” Clay would have said more, but the wolf in his arms began to squeak in earnest. He turned his attention back to the little guy. “Okay. I get it. No more jokes until you’re fed.”
Lacey rose and indicated with her head for him to follow. “Come this way. The paper towels are over here, if you’re still willing to give it a try.”
“I work on a ranch. I’m used to dealing with all kinds of crap.”
Clay followed Lacey over to the counter. She showed him how to gently massage the pup’s lower abdomen. It didn’t take long for the little wolf’s instincts to kick in. Getting the bottle in the animal’s mouth, though, turned out to be more difficult.
“He’s really clamping his gums together,” Clay said. The dark-gray bundle of fur wiggled in his hands, the squeaks increasing in volume. Although the wolf’s pinkish-gray paws paddled in the air in his quest for nourishment, he seemed to have no interest in the rubber nipple.
“He’s just overeager,” Lou said. “Try to get him to suck on your finger first.”
“Makes sense,” Clay said. He’d had more than one baby calf try to suckle his hand. He’d always found it adorable, not that he’d ever confess his thoughts to his ranch hands. A word like adorable wouldn’t do his reputation any favors.
He managed to work his gloved index finger between the wolf’s strong jaws. Although the pup’s mouth didn’t exert the same amount of pressure as a baby cow’s, there was enough strength in his bite to remind Clay that one day, this tiny speck would grow into a lethal predator. Clay could admire that, even appreciate it…as long as the animal wasn’t killing his vulnerable livestock.
With his past experience bottle-feeding cows, he didn’t have a problem switching out his finger for the rubber nipple. It was strange, though, holding a lobo in his arms. Orphaned calves normally stood at the edge of the pen, their heads eagerly sticking through the fence rails to reach the bottle. Even as a know-it-all teenager, Clay had never minded the chore, not that he’d told his grandfather. Clay suspected that the old man had known though. He’d made the task part of Clay’s daily routine, and it had ultimately taught him to love the ranch.
He was afraid feeding the wolf might have the same effect. A man couldn’t help but feel some sense of duty toward a creature he’d helped raise. But for a rancher, it was a bond hardened with the practicality of running a business. Folks on the outside had trouble understanding it. Clay had too the first summer, but he’d learned…or more accurately he’d slowly absorbed the lesson into his DNA.
The wolf continued to make high-pitched noises as he hungrily sucked down the contents of the bottle. He drank fast, the formula disappearing quickly. When the little guy finished, Lou carefully recorded how much he’d eaten.
“The pups are regularly weighed too,” Lacey explained. “It’s one of the best ways to check their health, especially when they’re this small.”
“He has high energy,” Lou said, his tone warm as he regarded the wolf. “Considering his rough start, he’s pretty strong. It’s still good we’re closely monitoring the pups. You made the right call bringing them here, Lacey.”
“What about the other one?” Clay tilted his head in the direction of the lobo still snuggled against Lacey.
“His injuries were more extensive,” Lou said. “We were worried about him, but his appetite is good, and he’s gaining weight. So far, we haven’t detected any signs of infection.”
“Unfortunately, by the time we could reunite them with their mother,” Lacey said, “they will have been handled too much by humans. They’ll be important to the captive breeding population though.”
“Bowie is applying for grants to support a program here. Other zoos have successfully started packs that in
clude siblings of the same sex, so we’re hoping we can keep both boys,” Lou explained.
Clay wasn’t sure how he felt about that news. He didn’t want to see the subspecies die off, but he didn’t want them loose on his land either. They were magnificent creatures. He’d never deny it. Last summer, he’d spotted a few loping through his pasture. Since they hadn’t been bothering his herd, he’d just watched them through the lens of his camera. They’d fascinated him, not that he’d tell Lacey. The woman was too good at swaying people to reveal a vulnerability like that. He had a duty to his livestock and to his business.
Driving Lacey to and from the zoo every day was going to complicate his life more than he’d realized. Until yesterday, she’d been his enemy. It had been easy to dismiss her along with the reintroduction program. Now, he found himself drawn to her. And for a couple of brief moments, she’d looked at him like he wasn’t the Big Bad Wolf in their story. Her brief acceptance had felt tantalizingly good, and he wanted more of it…even if it wasn’t necessarily wise for him or for his ranch.
* * *
Every day brought new bipeds to the zoo. They annoyed Scamp’s mother and father, but the throng of humans amused the juvenile honey badger. He especially enjoyed the wee ones who made high-pitched sounds. Sometimes they would drop food near his exhibit, which Scamp and his mother would eat on their evening outings.
But today had brought a different type of visitor. The humans had arrived when the zoo was normally quiet and right around the time Scamp and his mother usually went exploring. First the zookeeper had passed by the enclosure with the scowling Blue-Eyed One. The frowning biped had interested Scamp immensely. Something about his look reminded Scamp of himself. He was also smaller than the other male humans, not fully grown, also just like Scamp.
Later, more new bipeds had leaned over the rail and peered into Scamp’s territory. They’d chattered to each other, but they had merely bored Scamp. Adult humans were almost as dull as mature honey badgers.
Now the young biped was back and alone. He was staring morosely down at the dirt. Scamp stuck his head out of the burrow he still shared with his mother. She chittered, but he ignored her. As he lifted his chin to get a better look, the Blue-Eyed One’s gaze fell on him. The human’s lips turned up for a moment.
“Hey there, you must be one of the honey badgers. I’ve watched videos about you guys. You’re pretty badass.”
Scamp cocked his head even though the sounds the human made were meaningless. The biped’s voice was higher pitched than the other male humans’ but lower than the females’.
The Blue-Eyed One’s mouth flattened again. He looked exactly how Scamp felt when his mother scolded him for trying to leave the enclosure on his own.
“I heard you guys escape a lot.” The biped continued making noise. “I can’t blame you. It looks boring down there. I know what it’s liked to feel trapped. I’m stuck here too.”
The human let out a huge, gusty sigh. Unlike his stream of chatter, this expression Scamp understood. In fact, he’d made it plenty of times himself. The boy leaned his forearms on the railing and rested his chin on his hands as he stared glumly at Scamp.
The honey badger’s lips curled up to show his teeth. The Blue-Eyed One needed excitement just as much as he did. Scamp had finally found a worthy playmate.
* * *
Lacey watched as Clay carefully brought the baby wolf to his shoulder to burp the lobo. He didn’t quite have the technique down, which didn’t surprise her. But his general ease around animals did. Most ranchers knew how to bottle-feed their livestock, but she hadn’t expected Clay’s proficiency.
“Just rub along the pup’s rib cage and belly,” Lacey instructed. “If that doesn’t work, then you can try gentle pats.”
Clay took her instructions seriously. Murmuring softly, he gazed at the animal. His chin practically touched the wolf’s muzzle, and his eyes had turned the same blue-green as the Aegean Sea when it met the white beaches of Greece. Watching Clay’s eyes change was like taking a trip through the world’s oceans, and Lacey found herself drawn along with the current.
She couldn’t think of a sexier image than a muscular man going all gooey-eyed over a tiny pup. The animal’s minuscule pink tongue lolled out as the lobo basked in Clay’s attention. Lacey didn’t blame the little guy. She didn’t even like Clay Stevens, but if he ever looked at her like that, she might very well pant too.
A faint belch emerged from the wolf, and a slow, devastating smile spread over Clay’s face. A peculiar soaring sensation swept through Lacey. Annoyed with herself, she tried to suppress the bubble of elation. She hadn’t acted this silly over a guy since her teenage years, and she couldn’t think of a more inappropriate match.
The wolf pup yawned, his mouth a bright flash of pink against his grayish-brown fur. When fully grown, the lobo would be smaller than the more common gray wolf and sport reddish-brown and black hues in his coat.
“I think he’s ready for a nap.”
“Lay him next to Sylvia.” Lou gestured to the capybara.
“You’re fortunate she’s so good with orphaned animals,” Lacey said quietly. “It sure beats regulating their body temperature artificially.”
Lou nodded. “When not using an incubator, I found putting rice in an old cotton sock and heating it in the microwave worked best, but Sylvia is a natural snuggler.”
Lacey swore the rodent looked up at the compliment and gave them a serene smile. Then again, given the shape of the capybara’s head, she always looked like she was grinning, especially from the side profile.
The pups instantly snuggled against Sylvia’s warmth. They looked so small against the older animal’s reddish-brown fur. One of the lobos emitted a contented sound. He moved his small chin as he sought the most comfortable position. His rounded ears stood out on the sides of his head, almost like a teddy bear’s. They would grow longer and pointier, but now they were as tiny as the rest of the pup.
“You did well, Papa Wolf,” Lacey teased as Clay stared down at the sleeping duo. She reached over to pat his arm. As soon as her fingertips brushed against his bicep, she realized her mistake. The thin cotton of his shirt did little to shield her from his warmth. The heat seemed to turn into electricity as it zipped along her nerves. A shiver threatened, but she suppressed it. She didn’t want either Clay or Lou to witness her reaction.
Clay turned in her direction, his eyes now Mediterranean blue. Oh, she wanted to sink into their depths, but she didn’t dare. She jerked her hand back, and she could sense that Clay felt her withdrawal. He didn’t react to it though. Instead, he gave her an easy grin.
“I’m not sure what I think about the nickname, but it sure beats being the Big Bad Wolf.”
A guilty feeling snaked through her. “Oh. You know about that one.”
He shrugged. “I’ve never heard it directly, but given the circumstances, I figured it’s been tossed around.”
“Anytime you want to drop by and give an orphaned animal a bottle is fine by me,” Lou said. Although the veterinarian had always possessed a welcoming personality, Lacey could tell by his voice he meant his words. He approved of Clay Stevens. Clearly, the man’s ease around animals had won over Lou, and maybe, just maybe, Clay had started to impress Lacey too.
“Well, with Zach working here for the spring and summer, I might just take you up on that,” Clay said as he offered his hand to Lou. “I better head back to the ranch now. It’s calving season, and there’s a lot of work to be done.”
Lou nodded. Although he had never opened a practice in Sagebrush Flats, he’d often pitched in when the local vet was away and a rancher needed help. He’d grown up here too and knew the rhythm and rigors of ranching.
“I’ll walk you to the parking lot,” Lacey volunteered without thinking. She didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if the zoo was extremely large. Clay could easily find his way back
. Yet something felt incomplete, like his visit wasn’t quite finished yet.
They strolled next to each other in surprisingly companionable silence. Unbidden, a memory of her father played in Lacey’s mind. Both of them had loved hiking, and sometimes they’d cover a mile without speaking. When a long stretch of quiet feels as comfortable as a conversation, you know you’ve found a lifelong friend. Her dad had always been coming up with sayings like that one. Lacey didn’t often think of them anymore. Even after all these years, it still hurt too much. But she did try to live her life by his lessons.
When they reached Clay’s truck, he turned in her direction. The afternoon light caught his hair, changing it from burnished to spun gold. If it weren’t for his truck’s obnoxious Valhalla Beef insignia, he’d look like he was posing for a Ford advertisement.
He paused, and Lacey could hear his intake of air. The moment seemed charged. Lacey swore an undercurrent of electricity crackled. She’d come, she realized, for this.
“Would you like to visit Valhalla to see how I run things?”
Lacey should say no. She didn’t like entanglements, and Clay’s offer promised plenty. Her family wouldn’t appreciate her getting close to a Stevens. And Clay and she had fundamentally different views. It was like trying to make the edge of a square and circle match up. Yet despite all that, she swore she felt a connection sizzling between them. But anyone who worked in an arid environment knew how dangerous a wayward spark could be.
She started to say no. Clay knew. His muscles stiffened almost imperceptibly, preparing for the rejection.
She studied him then as he stood against his massive truck with its huge decal. He should have looked arrogant in his Western shirt and expensive cowboy boots. But he didn’t. He looked like a man who was trying hard, maybe even too hard, to fit into a world that didn’t want him. And Lacey had always been a sucker for a stray.
“I’ll come.”
A slow, triumphant smile slid over Clay’s mouth, making him look even more gorgeous. Lacey’s heart squeezed at the sight.