“You did right,” Heidi assured him. “He’s probably broken free of some private owner, or maybe even a zoo. He’s in too good of shape to have lived out here long.”
“Okay, boys. You’re going to have to help us get this big guy on the ATV,” Beth said. “I’ll bring it up the hill.”
Heidi nodded and sat back on her heels. This cat was gorgeous. She ran her hands over his silky coat, softer than a cougar’s. Black, but not solid, its spots plainly seen in the sunlight. No, not spots, rosettes they were called. Spots inside spots. Almost the same markings as African leopards.
“Damn,” she muttered. She’d have to call around to see if they could figure out from where this big guy escaped.
Beth pulled the ATV up next to the cat, and it took all four of them to drape the unconscious feline over the back of it. He was huge, heavy, well over two hundred pounds.
“We’ll put him on the ATV trailer. Ritchie, I want you to take the ATV to my dad’s house and leave it in the backyard when we’re done.”
Ritchie nodded.
“I’m going to take it slow, but I need you two—” she pointed to Beth and Ritchie, “—to make sure he doesn’t start sliding off.”
It was slow going as she maneuvered the ATV back the way they’d come, but they made it easy enough. And although it was a bit unnerving to have a wild predator within reach, Heidi reminded herself that Beth’s tranquilizers were potent enough to keep the cat out for quite a while, plenty of time to get the big guy back to the clinic and safely ensconced inside a cage.
Leavenworth Veterinary Clinic was housed in a small, converted log home. Heidi backed the trailer into the garage, which also served as a kennel. A chain link cage, with a couple of doggy doors to the fenced backyard, took up the back wall.
Paco, the ten-year-old cockatoo being boarded by an elderly couple on vacation, squawked at her when she jumped out of the Land Rover.
“Later, Pac.” She bypassed his mesh cage near the door to the clinic and grabbed the hand truck from the storage area in front of the kennel. With a lot of grunting on both women’s parts, they got the jaguar transferred to the hand truck and into the operating room.
“We can’t get him onto the table by ourselves,” Beth said.
“I’m worried about that wound.” Heidi headed to the sink to scrub up. “Look at the blood on the bandage. I’m going to have to do it right here.”
“Are we putting him in the kennel after we’re done?”
“Only place big enough for him.”
Beth shook her head, a wrinkle appearing between her brows. “He’s going to be mad, and a pissed off jaguar is the most dangerous of the big cats. They’ve got horrible tempers. You think the kennel is strong enough to hold him?”
Heidi hadn’t known that about jaguars. She was going to have to do some reading up on them.
“Doctor Falke?” Mrs. Blake said, knocking on the doorframe. “Oh... Oh, my. What is that?”
“A very large feline patient.” Heidi adjusted the seat of her rolling stool as low as it would go.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, he is,” Beth said with appreciation, running her hand over the cat’s humongous head.
“Mrs. Blake, would you please put the list of Washington zoos and private large animal sanctuaries on my desk? We’re going to have to find out where he’s from.”
“Of course. May I?” The receptionist motioned toward the jaguar.
“Sure. Better do it now while he’s still out.”
Mrs. Blake took a few tentative steps and reached out her hand, touching his ear, his nose, the thick fur at the nape of its neck. “He’s much softer than Falke.”
Heidi smiled. He was much softer than any of her brothers in catamount form as Falke. The family
“pet” had become the unofficial town mascot, a four-legged celebrity. She’d grown up with six shape-shifting brothers in all and, though she’d envied them that ability over the years, always believed they were stunning in their cougar form.
Sorry, brothers, she thought now, you guys don’t hold a candle to this big boy.
The cat took a deep breath, and Mrs. Blake jumped back. Heidi was right there with a syringe to keep him knocked out so she could perform the minor surgery.
“I best go see to that list,” the receptionist said with a nervous chuckle before departing.
“I’m going to draw his blood and run it through the computer.” Big cat genetics was where Beth’s heart lay. She was an asset at the clinic, an expert most rural vets couldn’t afford, not to mention the best assistant Heidi could ever hope for. Though she’d put her career on hold for a while—or maybe indefinitely for all Heidi knew—Beth still kept up her research, gathering data wherever she could.
And this jaguar offered an opportunity she couldn’t refuse. “Then I’ll go sterilize the kennel and get it ready. Unless you need me in here.”
“Naw, it’s pretty routine, but thanks.” Heidi rewashed her hands, pulled on latex gloves and leaned over her patient.
After she cleaned out the wounds, both entrance and exit, and stitched everything up, she x-rayed the leg. Her suspicion had been right. The path of the bullet had caused a fracture in the cat’s femur, not bad enough to require pins or a rod, but severe enough to require a cast for it to mend properly.
“Bet you aren’t going to like this,” she murmured to the unconscious jaguar as she prepared the materials she’d need.
Beth rejoined her shortly after Heidi finished wrapping the plaster cast.
“Poor baby.” Her sister-in-law petted the jaguar’s head. “It’s a good thing the shooter was Ritchie and not some hunter from outside the area.”
“Agreed. The kennel ready?”
“Yes. We’ll have to use a padlock though. When he comes to, he’ll probably try to do anything he can to escape.”
“Unless he’s someone’s pet. He might be happy to get a good meal.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “People keeping wild cats as pets...”
Heidi laughed as they joined forces to push the rolling cart into the garage. Before Beth found out that Falke, the cougar, wasn’t really the family pet, she’d made her feelings clear regarding humans who thought they could domesticate wild animals.
Paco squawked at them then made a rude wolf whistle when they bent over to maneuver the jaguar off the cart.
“I swear that bird has the worst manners,” Beth said.
“Hey, he’s male. Stands to reason he’d appreciate a pair of fine asses.” Heidi chuckled. “Would you get the biggest water dish we’ve got and fill it up? This fella’s going to be thirsty when he comes out of sedation.”
Beth left the room, and Heidi sat back on her heels to pet the jaguar’s head again. “It’s not the Ritz, big guy, but it’ll have to do until we can find where you belong.”
A short time later, the sound of Beth’s footsteps announced her return, but they stopped short of Heidi and her furry patient.
“We’ve got a problem.”
Chapter Two
The sun beat down on his head as Isabela rushed around the front of the car to come to his aid. She thought he was still as weak as a newborn kitten, and he let her believe so. Her black hair glistened in the sunlight, her eyes so dark he’d been lost in them since he awoke in the hospital bed, bruised and bandaged, unsure of what had happened to him.
“Let me help you, Javier,” she said, her voice as soothing as her touch. “You try too hard to push too much. You must let your body mend.”
She’d been saying that to him for the past four days. When he told her he was checking himself out of the military hospital despite recommendations to the contrary, she’d protested and tried vehemently to change his mind. When that hadn’t worked, she’d demanded he let her drive him home and at least help get him settled.