The Hero I Need: A Small Town Romance

by Snow, Nicole

  “All in a day’s work, Peter. The Feds had a hand in tracking down the missing lion cub and extracting it from somewhere up in Canada. I helped a little, sifting through the data with my buddy, Faulk,” Grady replies with a smug but polite smile that makes me giggle.

  Dad turns to me, the light shining off his wiry glasses. My heart melts a second time, just like it did when I first found out we were able to save Tilda’s cub against the odds.

  “Well now, show me this tiger so we can get the introductions out of the way and settle in for a proper visit,” he says.

  “Bruce is in the barn. We carefully modified it to hold him comfortably,” I say. “This way.”

  I still can’t believe we’re doing this again.

  But after the massive ruckus at Let’s Roar, Bruce had a hard time calming down. The first night, he’d broken out of the pen they’d put him in, and because Weston’s truck was still there thanks to our hospital checkups, Jacob Cook found Bruce lying beside the trailer the next morning.

  He wouldn’t budge, giving off a loud warning growl any time Jacob and his people approached.

  They had to sedate him just so they could get him penned up again, but once he escaped a second time, they found him on top of the stock trailer. Totally refusing to come down.

  Jacob wasn’t willing to tranquilize him again or risk having a massive tiger-sized hole in a third enclosure, and I couldn’t blame him.

  So, after Grady and his friends pulled every string they could with the state officials and local police, he’d returned to Dallas along with us. This time with a handy and very temporary exotic wildlife permit in my name from the state of North Dakota.

  It turns out the devious happenings at Exotic Plains helped with the legal wrangling.

  “The Fosses were using my name for so much crap,” I continue, explaining it all to my father, “including registrations. So legally, Bruce is mine. It’s my name on his papers, and Drake, a friend of Grady’s—of ours—was able to get me a temporary permit to keep Bruce here under close watch until I can find him a real home.”

  “Rather nice setup, I must say. I’ve seen worse overseas.” Dad glances around the barn, making an impressed hrumph of approval as he makes his inspection. “This is a well-built structure. Solid and evidently storm proofed.”

  Grady and I share a heavy, awkward look, trying not to burst out laughing.

  But seriously, thank God the place got beefed up.

  Nobody needs a second round of Tornado Bruce tearing through downtown Dallas or stalking the countryside.

  With one last look, Dad gives me a warm smile. “Looks tiger proof to me. Wonderful job, you two.”

  “It is,” I assure him. “Straight-line winds damaged the door one time a little while back, and we fixed it right up. He’ll be fine here for the time being.”

  “You’re the expert, Peter. Glad you approve,” Grady says with a nod, then casts a longing look at me. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d better make sure my girls don’t try to sneak in here to show Bruce their new gifts...”

  “Of course!” Dad gives back a knowing smile and looks at me, remembering how mischievous I could be at their age.

  While Grady goes out to meet the girls, I step closer to Dad.

  “How about you, Willow girl? Are you just as happy penned up in this little town as this orange gentleman?” He nods at Bruce, who’s dozing on his hay pile.

  “More than fine, Dad. I’ve never—” I shrug, unsure how to say this. Then my heart skips a beat and I know. “Honestly? I’ve never been so happy. So at home. There’s something kinda magical about this place, as silly as it sounds for being in the middle of nowhere.”

  “I believe you.” He kisses my forehead. “And if you’re happy, so am I.”

  Nervous, because I’m not sure how he’ll react, I stumble over my next words. “So. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and, um...I’m not sure I want to continue on. With fieldwork, I mean.”

  “Oh?” he says neutrally, quirking a bushy eyebrow.

  “You know me. I thought it was destiny from the time you’d bring me on research trips deep into the bush. It was always my dream, but lately I’m not so sure. I’m wondering about a lot of things.” I lean against the concrete wall, drawing in a hefty breath. “I love Bruce, Dad, and of course I’ll help get him where he belongs, but as for the rest...I just don’t know. I just feel different about so many things.”

  For a second, he stares, and my heart stops.

  Then comes the kind, massive, balmy Peter Macklin smile that’s always made me feel like the center of the universe.

  “You’ve been through quite a gauntlet, honey, more than I ever went through. I heard what those brutes did to you.” He frowns, rubbing my shoulder, touching me like he’s grateful I’m alive. “Remember what Jung said? 'Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart.'”

  “Like you’d ever let me forget.” I roll my eyes, smiling, appreciating Dad’s undying love for Carl Jung’s dream work.

  “The thing about dreams is that we can become so busy chasing one, we don’t realize there are others out there. New dreams worth exploring—even at the expense of the old ones,” he muses, pulling at the corner of his mustache.

  “That’s true.” I look at him. “So, would you be disappointed if I didn’t follow in your footsteps?”

  “My footsteps? Please, dear girl. These feet are too big and clumsy for anyone to follow happily.” He gives me a hug. “Whatever you decide, know that I’ll never be disappointed in you. Not ever. What I want, what I’ve always wanted, is for you to be happy, Willow girl. That’s the brief and the dissertation. Be happy. Love, Dad.” He kisses the top of my head. “And it sounds to me like perhaps you’ve found your happiness right here in rural North Dakota.”

  My heart blooms like a whole field of wild flowers.

  “Maybe I have, Dad. I think I really have,” I whisper.

  “Grady and his daughters appear to be very special,” he urges.

  “Yeah, I mean, they kinda are.”

  “Marvelous. Then if you don’t mind, let’s leave our tiger friend to his dreams and stomp up a few more of our own. Don’t we have a party to attend?”

  “Don’t call it that!” I press a hand against my chest. “It’s just a little get-together. More of a thank you from me to all the people who helped.”

  “Ah, so you don’t want to big deal it, then, even when you’re happier than I’ve ever seen you,” he says with a smile.

  I start to answer, but the rest of his words hit me in one blow.

  All I can do is walk out, lock up, and try so hard to avoid death by smiling.

  * * *

  Several hours later, we find ourselves in a whirlwind, pressing hands and gabbing with so many townsfolk.

  The Purple Bobcat feels like the coziest place in the world tonight, full of all the wonderful-larger-than-life people who helped me save my tiger. Who helped me save myself, even if the hero of the story will always be one massive, growly uber dad who can make my heart quicksand faster than I can draw my next breath.

  “Boy, howdy!” Granny Coffey says with a low whistle, staring across the room at my father. “If only I was ten years younger.”

  “Ten?” a pregnant Tory Faulkner asks her grandmother. “And Gran, what about Robert? Aren’t you two pretty serious now?”

  Granny, wearing a floral hot-pink shirt and white pants, touches the pink flower in her grey hair. “Here’s a lesson, Miss Smarty Pants: it’s okay to look at the menu when you always order the same dish.”

  We both burst out laughing.

  “Looks like we’re being summoned,” Tory says, nodding at my father, who waves us over to join him at the table he’s sitting at with Grady and several others.

  “Dibs on the seat next to Peter,” Granny says, elbowing us both aside to be the first to arrive at the table.

  “I love her,” I tell Tory.

  “What can I say? She’s fam
ily,” Tory says with a wink. “I only hope I inherit her spunk when I’m her age.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Only God knows.” Tory laughs. “Seems like her birthday changes every year.”

  I’m still grinning when I arrive at the table and take a seat between Grady and Dad. Granny steals the chair on Dad’s other side, no surprise.

  “We were just discussing something, Willow,” Dad says.

  “Yeah? What’s that?” I brace myself for more bad news, purely because it’s been too weird thinking the worst is truly over.

  He looks at Grady slowly. My gaze flicks between the two of them and the slow, wide grins stretching across their faces.

  “How does The Dallas Exotic Learning and Rescue Center sound? Is that too long a name?” Grady asks, his eyes purring with mellow brown heat. “Of course, you can have the final say, but we were working on ideas.”

  “Rescue?” I shake my head to clear my thoughts but can’t slow the rising thrum of my pulse.

  “A rescue center for wild animals here in Dallas,” Dad says with a nonchalant shrug. “Those poor animals seized in Minot need a place to go, and the Feds are rarely good at handling this sort of thing.”

  My jaw almost hits the floor, and he’s not even done.

  Holy freaking crap.

  “Grady has the land. You have the experience—thanks to yours truly. Seems like quite the perfect partnership to me. I’ve already submitted the first donation, and everyone around this table has pledged their help as well, big and small. Not just financially, but—” He winks at Sawyer and Avery who are standing behind us, their eyes wide and bright, focused on me. “Physically as well. I think it’s a win-win for this town and for several dozen large cats.”

  “Think about how many animals we can have!” Avery gushes, pulling her hair over her face so nothing but her pearly white smile shows.

  “We’ll help you all the time, Willow! So will the entire town,” Sawyer adds. “Every day. We’ll even help you come up with the best name.”

  “Careful with that one,” Grady says with a chuckle.

  Jaw, meet floor.

  Stunned doesn’t begin to describe it.

  I’m thoroughly flabbergasted, thrilled, but I don’t dare get my hopes up too high. “Guys. Whoa. This is a lot to take on. Permits for a real, legit sanctuary take plenty of—”

  “Consider it done. Between the local sheriff’s department and my connections,” my father says, pointing at Drake. “Permits won’t be an issue. I believe we’ll have everything expedited very easily. I’d say we could start breaking ground on outdoor pens within the next week or two.”

  Laughter, clapping, and cheering abounds.

  Everyone around the table starts talking about what they’ll do to help.

  I turn to Grady. “Are you sure about this? It’s a huge commitment.”

  The noise dies down as he looks at me and nods.

  “Only a hundred and ten percent sure,” he growls, clasping my hand.

  That’s when I know.

  The dancing sunlight in his eyes isn’t just excitement, but the deepest, truest love I’ll ever find.

  Eep times a million.

  I’m touched, tearing up, and shredded in my soul by just how strong his love is.

  How real.

  And all for me.

  Finally, I throw my hands in the air, my voice shaking as I tell them, “Okay, I’m in! I’ll give it my very best.”

  And the look Grady throws me says he’s even more sure of that fact than I am.

  This life, this town, this man deserve nothing less.

  24

  Tiger by the Tail (Grady)

  Months Later

  I’d thought I knew what busting ass meant back when I bought the bar and worked like hell for the grand re-opening.

  Ha.

  That shit was nothing compared to starting an entire rescue center for fantastic beasts.

  The rewards this time around have already soared higher than anything the Purple Bobcat ever delivered. Every cut, every drop of sweat, every late night making calls with contractors and friends and taking inventory till my eyes were red and sore...

  Hell yeah, it was worth it.

  Willow Macklin is in her glory, and that makes me the happiest man on the planet.

  Of course, Sawyer and Avery are also so pumped I’m scared for them.

  Not just with all the animals, but with the man they already lovingly refer to as Grandpa Peter.

  Doc Macklin has been a major help in everything. We’re not even close to done. There’s still a lot more coming, but as Peter says, “With tigers, there always will be.”

  He’s right about that.

  It’s only been three months since we broke ground, but as of last week, the animals once housed in Minot have found their new homes here. Lions, tigers, jaguars, snow leopards, lemurs, gibbons, and even a few crocodiles now share what was once McKnight land.

  I grin every time I imagine what my parents would’ve thought if they could see this.

  Numerous barns and sheds dot the hills around my place alongside massive pens and spacious exercise areas, plus a special outdoor pen for Bruce, who has his own shiny new mini barn that’ll be his home till the day he dies.

  Large metal bars now surround the huge center behind the door where he comes in and out. I did the welding and installation work with Weston last week, all so the girls can safely visit their favorite ‘pet’ damn near every day.

  The familiar arms that fold around my waist from behind make me smile. I turn, fully engulfing Willow in a hug that could move mountains.

  “The parking lot is already filling up!” she says happily, her blue eyes one more splash of beauty in the fall leaves turning the landscape into a living painting.

  “Excited for the big day?” I ask.

  I still can’t believe it’s the grand opening today. People from around the world have arrived to see the ribbon cutting at the Dallas Exotic Learning and Rescue Center.

  “Too excited.” She kisses me five times before she can find her words again. “Thank you for this, Grady. Thank you. I couldn’t have even dreamed up this place.”

  “Woman, I couldn’t have dreamed you,” I growl back, bringing her hand to my lips, fighting back the urge to press my mouth to every inch of her.

  There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

  She steps back. “What are you doing in here, anyway?”

  I grin and kiss the tip of her nose.

  “Just telling Bruce to behave himself today. Nothing like making a great first impression, right?” Taking her hand, I lead her to the door. “Let’s get this crazy tiger show on the road.”

  We leave the barn and climb into the new side-by-side ATV I bought to make driving to the rescue easier. We chose an area over a mile away from the house where the main facility begins, and the public areas are even farther, so we’ll still have plenty of privacy.

  The crowd is bursting at the seams, and a list of distinguished speakers, including the mayor of Dallas, holds the crowd’s rapt attention for over an hour. I think they’re getting restless as hell for the real guest of honor.

  I know I am.

  He finally shows up looking more regal than ever, standing taller than a Saint Bernard with his green-gold eyes flashing, the white tufts on the sides of his face fluffed like a proud Viking.

  Bruce the Magnificent.

  All hail the king.

  Willow just has to smile and wave, and he stays rooted to his spot in front of the main entrance, perched inside a large flatbed trailer with a huge cage fixed to it, rumbling forward.

  Bruce is totally relaxed. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’s enjoying the attention.

  Hank parks the ride next to the speakers’ platform.

  I smile at Willow as Sawyer and Avery take the stage. They each give well-practiced five-minute speeches about large cats, their endangered plight, and Bruce specifically.

 
I’ve never been prouder of them in my life.

  Peter, our host, steps up to the podium next with a flurry of compliments for my girls before he looks at me.

  I nod.

  “It’s my honor to introduce you to the owners of The Dallas Exotic Learning and Rescue Center,” Peter says.

  Willow frowns at me, leans in, and whispers, “What’s this all about? We aren’t scheduled to speak, right?”

  The worry in her eyes says she’s second-guessing herself.

  I smile. “Relax, darlin’. This is something your dad and I decided. Just let me do the talking.”

  I escort her onto the stage, where Peter and the girls are still standing behind us.

  Once the rowdy clapping and cheering dies down, I thank everyone for coming and name several people specifically for their donations and assistance. When our story hit the national news, money came pouring in from all over. Donors as big as HeronComm in Chicago and as small as a fire chief in Heart’s Edge, Montana, who said he couldn’t resist after hearing about our mess and always mixing up lions and tigers as a kid.

  That’s not even touching our resident billionaires, the Barnets and Larkins, who dug deep in their vast pockets and gave generously. This sanctuary might be the most well-funded little-big animal rescue center ever thanks to their help.

  It’s enough to bring a tear to the hardest man’s eye—only I’m too damn nervous to get choked up.

  Nothing to do with standing here in the spotlight speaking to all of these fine folks. You get used to that when you manage the town gossip mill and watering hole.

  But it feels like there’s no human way to express how fucking much Willow means to me.

  How deep my love goes.

  How intently I want it to last.

  When the noise dies down, I squeeze her hand, flashing her a quick look for courage.

  “You know, it was just a few months ago...” I start slowly into the mic. “That’s when I first met this incredible, adventurous lady. I was closing up the bar and saw an old truck in my lot with a stock trailer, just pulling in with no headlights. I went out to see if she was lost, and can you imagine my surprise when I saw—” I point to Bruce. “That in the stock trailer?”