“Mountain lions purr, rather than roar like the other big cats do, and yes, they have a phenomenal scream,” Maia said, guiding Jase’s hand along the cat’s back.
Cole watched the way her hands moved through the mountain lion’s fur. He tasted envy in his mouth. Need. How did he become a part of such a thing?
Maia glanced at Cole over her shoulder. “You don’t hunt them on this ranch, do you?”
“It’s legal here in Wyoming,” he said. His voice was strangling around the lump in his throat. “But since I’ve been here we certainly don’t hunt them, and we wouldn’t unless they went after our horses or cattle. Most stay in the high country.” Forcing his mind to concentrate on details, he studied the cat, trying to determine, from the lacerated muscle, the angle the shooter had shot from. “How old is that wound?”
“It’s fresh. Maybe twenty-four hours, a little longer, but not by much. Damn hunters. It’s makes me so mad, they wound an animal and leave it to suffer.”
“You’re saying she was shot on this ranch yesterday or the day before?” Cole’s body touched hers, as he bent over her to get a closer look at the wound.
Maia glanced at him, recognizing the edge in his voice, the sudden alert interest. “She definitely was shot somewhere on the ranch.
“There was no one here but Al and me,” Jase said. “I didn’t hear a shot.”
“It was probably miles from the ranch house,” Cole said.
“I’m going to give her an injection of antibiotics, then we’ll put them in her food and try to keep her here over the next few days,” Maia deliberately changed the subject when she realized Jase was becoming agitated. She sent Cole a warning glance.
Cole shook his head. “Maia, this is a working ranch. You have any idea how dangerous that is? If you feed her, and you’ll have to, she might want to come around here. And then we’re going to have to shoot her anyway.”
“I’ll make certain she knows to stay in the high country.”
He stepped even closer. “Fine. If I have to have it here, I want to pet it too.” He felt stupid asking, but it was the chance of a lifetime. There was breathtaking beauty in the animal and a sense of raw power. The moment his fingers sank into the fur, he felt connected to it, and in some strange way, the mountain lion solidified his connection to Jase and Maia. He dropped his other hand on Maia’s shoulder, needing to touch her as he took the unique opportunity to get close to a live mountain lion. Jase beamed at him. They exchanged a small grin. Maia was magic and mystery, and it was becoming difficult for Cole to focus his mind on anything else.
Maia’s hand covered Cole’s as he petted the cat’s deep fur.
“Amazing. I’ve never had an experience like this.” There was wonder in his voice, a boyish excitement, much like Jase’s, yet there was that underlying dark sensuality he couldn’t suppress. Seeing Maia with the cat, getting so close with Jase, just being herself seemed to bring it out in him.
Reluctantly, Maia pulled her hand away to reach for the needle. She had to avoid looking at Cole. Sharing the experience with him was a fantasy she’d always kept secret, sharing her love of exotic cats with a man she . . . Abruptly she pulled her mind away from the thought. “I’m suturing the wound, Jase,” Maia continued. “If it were any older, there would be too much bacteria in it, but I’ll leave a drain and use dissolving sutures. Hopefully we can keep as much air getting to it as possible.”
“How’d you learn all this?” Jase asked eagerly. “This is what I want to do.”
“I specialized in exotics as well as smaller animals. I actually interned in both Africa and Indochina,” Maia said. “I may go back to specializing, but for the time being, the mobile clinic works for me.”
Jase looked up at his brother, a grin on his face. “I know I could do this, Cole.”
“I know you could too, Jase,” Cole encouraged. Because Jase was so excited, the boy didn’t even notice he was shaking with cold.
“Large cats can’t be treated lightly, Jase,” Maia said as she worked. “You always have to be aware that they are wild creatures, even the ‘domesticated exotics.’ You have to pay attention to body language all the time. And you have to be aware of what ‘zone’ they’re in. I have a five-zone gauge I use to determine the risks of working with a wild animal. Things like bad weather, such as we have now, high winds, tornadoes, and such will drop them into the zone, and we’re very much at risk. As she comes out from under the ketamine she’ll be at her most dangerous because she’ll be dopey and fearful. We don’t want to be around for that.”
“Where do you want to put her, Doc?” Cole asked, trying to be practical, trying to find a way to help, to be a part of what she was.
“Somewhere she’ll be safe out of the storm and fairly warm, where I can easily check on her and feed her.”