Black Hills (20 page)

“A bullet in the brain usually is. No other injuries or insults. I’m going to open her up, complete the exam. But you’re holding what killed this animal.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ll send a full report to the sheriff’s office,” Lil told him. “All the documentation.”

“I’ll go on, then.” He bolted.

Matt exchanged forceps for scalpel. “Given her weight, height, her teeth, I’d put the age of this female between twelve and fifteen months.” He looked to Lil for confirmation.

“Yes. She’s not pregnant—though you’ll verify—nor does she show signs of having given birth recently. It’s unlikely she mated this fall, being too young at that time to come into season. All visual indications are she was in good health.”

“Lil, you don’t have to do this, you don’t have to be in here for this.”

“Yes I do.” She made herself cold, and watched Matt make the first precise line of the Y cut.

When it was done, all the data recorded, all the conclusions made, her eyes were gritty, her throat raw. Stress and grief made an uneasy marriage in her stomach. She washed her hands thoroughly, repeatedly, before going into the office.

The minute he saw her, Lucius’s eyes filled.

“I’m sorry. I can’t seem to pull it together.”

“It’s all right. It’s a hard day.”

“I didn’t know if you’d want me to put anything up on the site. Any sort of statement or . . .”

“I don’t know.” She rubbed her hands over her face. Her mind simply hadn’t gone there. “Maybe we should. Yes, maybe we should. She was murdered. People should know about her, what happened to her.”

“I can write something up for you to look over.”

“Yeah, do that, Lucius.”

Mary Blunt, sturdy of body, sensible of mind, rose from her desk to pour hot water into a mug. “It’s tea. Drink it,” she ordered, and she pushed it into Lil’s hand. “Then go home for a while. There’s nothing you have to do. It’s nearly closing time. Why don’t I come over, fix you something to eat?”

“Couldn’t right now, Mary, but thanks. Matt’s doing the paperwork, putting the file together. Can you take it to Willy on your way home?”

“Sure I can.” Mary, hazel eyes full of concern over the silver rims of her cheaters, gave Lil a brief one-armed hug. “They’ll find that motherless coward, Lil. Don’t you worry.”

“I’m counting on it.” She drank the tea because it was there, and because Mary was watching to see that she did.

“We’ve got that Boy Scout field trip coming in next week. I can reschedule if you want more time.”

“No, let’s try to keep it business as usual.”

“All right, then. I did some grant research, and put some possibilities together. You can look them over, see if you want me to take any of them further.”

“All right.”

“Tomorrow,” Mary said firmly, and took the empty mug. “Now, go home. We’ll close up.”

“I’m going to check on everybody first.”

“Tansy and the interns, some volunteers saw to the feedings.”

“I’ll just . . . check. Go on home.” She glanced over at Lucius to include him. “As soon as Matt’s finished, close up and go home.”

When she stepped outside, she saw Farley coming from the direction of the stables. He raised a hand in salute. “I brought your new horse, and your gear. Gave her a good rubdown, some extra grain.”

“Farley, you’re a godsend.”

“You’d do the same.” He stopped in front of her, gave her arm a little pat and rub. “Hell of a thing, Lil.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Anything need doing?” He squinted into the gathering twilight. “Your dad said I should stay as long as you need. He thought maybe I should bunk down here for the night.”

“You don’t need to do that, Farley.”

“Well, I’d say it was more he said I’d be bunking down here for the night rather than I should.” Farley gave her his appealingly goofy grin. “I’ll use the cot back in the stables.”

“There’s a better one in the offices. Use that. I’ll talk to your boss, but we’ll let this ride tonight.”

“He’ll sleep better.”

“That’s why we’re letting it ride. The fact is, I’ll probably sleep better, too, knowing you’re close by. I’ll make you some supper.”

“No need. Your ma packed me plenty. Wouldn’t hurt to give them a call.” He shifted in his worn-at-the-heels boots. “Just saying.”

“I will.”

“Ah, is Tansy inside?”

“No. She must be out here somewhere.” The little light in his eye made her want to sigh again. It was so damn sweet. “Maybe you could take a look around for her, tell her we’re going to close a little early. If the animals have been checked, she can go on home.”

“I’ll do that. You take it easy, now, Lil. If you need anything tonight, you just give me a holler.”

“I will.”

She turned toward the small-cat area. She stopped by each habitat to help remind herself why she was doing this, what she hoped to do. Most of the animals they sheltered, they studied, would be dead otherwise. Euthanized or disposed of by owners, killed in the wild they were too old or handicapped to survive. They had a life here, protection, and as much freedom as could be allowed. They served to educate, to fascinate, to draw funds to help maintain the whole.

It mattered. Intellectually she knew it mattered. But her heart was so sore it wasn’t the intellect that needed reinforcement.

Baby waited for her, the engine purr in his throat. She crouched, leaning her head against the cage so he could bump his to it in greeting.

She looked beyond him to where the two other cougars they’d taken in tore into their evening meal. Only Baby would leave his favorite chicken dinner for her.

And in his brilliant eyes, she took comfort.

IT TOOK FARLEY a while to find her, but his heart gave a few extra beats when he did. Tansy sat on one of the benches—and for once she was alone, watching the big old tiger (imagine a tiger living right in the valley!) wash his face.

Just like a house cat would, Farley thought, licking at his paws, rubbing them on his face.

He wanted to think of something clever to say, something smart and funny. He didn’t think he was clever when it came to words mostwise anyhow. And he got his tongue tangled and stuck when he was within speaking distance of Tansy Spurge.

She was about the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and he wanted her for his own so bad it hurt in the belly.

He knew all that dark, curly hair of hers was soft, and kinda springy to the touch. He’d managed to get his hands on it once. He knew the skin of her hands was smooth and soft, but he wondered if her face would be the same. That pretty, golden brown face. He hadn’t had the nerve to try to touch that yet.

But he was working up to it.

She was smarter than he was, no question. He’d finished high school because Joe and Jenna laid that down as law. But Tansy had all kinds of education on him and those fancy college degrees. He liked that about her, too, how the smart of her showed in her eyes. The goodness in them right there with it.

He’d seen how she was with animals. Gentle. Farley didn’t hold with causing an animal harm.

And with all that, she was so damn sexy his blood started humming in his head—and other places—whenever he got within ten feet of her.

Like right now.

He squared his shoulders, wished he wasn’t so damned skinny.

“He sure keeps himself clean and tidy, doesn’t he?” While he was building up the gumption to sit beside her, Farley stopped by the cage to watch the old boy wash.

He’d touched Boris once, too, when Tansy’d had him under to help Matt clean what was left of his teeth. It sure was a
big
experience, letting your hands walk right over a jungle cat.

“He’s feeling good today. Had a good appetite. I worried if he’d last the winter, sweet old thing, when he had that kidney infection. But he just keeps going.”

The words were easy, casual-like, but he knew—had made a study on—her tones. He heard the tears before he saw them.

“Ah, now.”

“Sorry.” She waved a hand. “We’re all having a rough day. I was mad, just mad, for most of it. Then I sat down here, and . . .” She shrugged, waved again.

He didn’t need gumption to sit beside her. He’d only needed the tears. “I had a dog run over about five years ago. Hadn’t had him long either. Just a few months. I cried like a baby right on the side of the road.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and just sat with her, watching the tiger.

“I didn’t want to see Lil again until I settled down. She doesn’t need me crying on her shoulder.”

“Mine’s right here.”

Though he’d offered, sincerely, in the spirit of friendship, his heart took that extra beat again when she tipped her head to his shoulder.

“I saw Lil.” He spoke quickly now before his mind went blank with the thrill. “She said to tell you she’s closing a little early, sending everybody on.”

“She shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m staying tonight. I’ll bunk in the second cabin.”

“Good. That’s good. I’ll feel better knowing that. It’s nice of you, Farley, to—”

She tipped her face up and his tipped over. And in that moment, lost in her eyes, the comfort became an embrace. “Holy God, Tansy,” he managed, and pressed his mouth to hers.

Soft. Sweet. He thought she tasted like warm cherries, and now that he was close enough he could smell her skin, and that had warm in it, too.

He thought a man would never be cold, not a day in his life, if he could kiss her.

She leaned into him, he felt her come in. It made him feel strong and sure.

Then she pulled away, fast. “Farley, this isn’t—We can’t do this.”

“Didn’t mean to. Not just that way.” He couldn’t help himself and stroked a hand over her hair. “I didn’t mean to take advantage of the situation.”

“It’s all right. It’s fine.”

Her voice was jumpy, and her eyes were wide. It made him smile. “It was fine. I’ve been thinking about kissing you for so long I can’t remember how long it is. Now I guess I’ll be thinking about kissing you again.”

“Well, don’t.” Her voice jumped again, as if he’d poked her with a stick. “You can’t. We can’t.”

She got to her feet. So did he, but more slowly. “I think you like me.”

She flushed—God that was pretty—and started twisting the buttons on her coat. “Of course I like you.”

“What I mean to say is, I think you think about kissing me sometimes, too. I’ve got a powerful yen for you, Tansy. Maybe you don’t have the same, but I think you’ve got a little one any way.”

She pulled her coat together, still twisting at buttons. “I’m not . . . that isn’t . . .”

“It’s about the first time I’ve seen you all flustered up. Maybe I should kiss you again.”

The button-twisting hand slapped right out onto his chest. “We’re not going to do this. You have to accept that. You should be looking at—having a yen for—girls your own age.”

His smile widened. “You didn’t say you didn’t have one for me. What we need to do is for me to take you out to dinner. Dancing maybe. Do this proper.”

“We’re not doing anything.”

She got a line between her eyebrows—he’d liked to have kissed it—and her voice firmed up. He just kept smiling.

“I mean it.” Exasperated now, she pointed the index fingers of both hands at him. “I’m going to check in with Lil, then I’m going home. And—Oh, wipe that stupid smile off your face.”

She spun around, stalked away.

Her temper turned his smile into a mile-wide grin.

He’d kissed Tansy Spurge, he thought. And before she’d gotten her dander up, she’d kissed him right back.

 

 

 

LIL TOOK THREE extra-strength Tylenol for the stress headache and topped it off with a long, blistering shower. Dressed in flannels, thick socks, and a comfortably tattered University of North Dakota sweatshirt, she added logs to the flames in her compact fireplace.

Heat, she thought. She couldn’t seem to get enough of it. She kept the lights blazing, too. She wasn’t ready for the dark yet. She gave some thought to food, but couldn’t work up the energy or the appetite.

She’d called her parents, so that was crossed off the list. She’d reassured them, promised to lock her doors, and reminded them she had a refuge loaded with early warning signals.

She’d work. She had articles to write, grant proposals to complete. No, she’d do laundry. No point in letting it pile up.

Maybe she should upload her photos. Or check the webcams.

Or, or, or.

She paced like a cat in a cage.

The sound of the truck had her pivoting toward the door. The staff had been gone nearly two hours now, and Mary would have locked the gate across the access road behind her. They all had keys, but . . . given the circumstances, wouldn’t whoever might have forgotten something, wanted something, needed something have called first to alert her?