Cady shot her gloved fist into the air. “Winter wonderland walk!”
“Let’s go.” I grabbed a pair of gloves and a hat for myself, and then we headed back out. I locked the door and shoved my keys into my pocket.
Cady launched herself off the porch steps into the snow. “I’m flying!”
I hurried down the steps, caught her around the waist, and lifted her into the air. Cady’s laughter caught on the air and swam around us. This. This was what I’d fought for. I hadn’t regretted leaving our old lives behind for a second.
Cady’s giggles died away. “Mama,” she whispered.
Something about her tone had me on alert. My gaze shot in the direction Cady was looking, and I stilled.
A deer limped along our drive, headed away from the house.
“She’s hurt,” Cady whispered, tears filling her voice.
My heart clenched. That was obviously the case, and as I squinted, I could just see what looked like wire wrapped around her chest and leg. A million curses filled my mind.
“We gotta help her,” Cady begged. “It’s so cold.”
My nose stung, imagining how scared the poor deer must be. Usually, they traveled in groups, but I didn’t see any signs of other animals around. They’d probably left her behind because she couldn’t move fast enough.
A burn lit along my sternum. I knew what that felt like, to be alone and scared, not having anyone at your back.
“Come on,” I said to Cady, hustling her back up the steps.
“We gotta help her,” she argued.
“I’m going to, but I need you to wait inside.” I didn’t want Cady to scare off the doe as we approached.
To her credit, she didn’t argue, simply followed me inside. I entered the kitchen and grabbed the apple half I planned to cut up for her after-school snack. “I’m going to lock the door after me. Don’t answer for anyone. Promise?”
Cady bobbed her head up and down. “Hurry, Mama.”
I didn’t wait. I slipped out the door and locked it behind me. The deer had already made it down our long drive and was heading up the two-lane road. I cursed as the wind picked up in a loud howl, sending the snow flying.
I hurried to catch up with the doe, slowing as I got closer and trying to examine the wire around her. I bit the inside of my cheek. It was digging into the poor deer’s flesh. This might be out of my wheelhouse.
Pulling off my glove, I retrieved my phone from my pocket and searched the number for Fish and Wildlife.
“Harrison County Fish and Wildlife, this is Andrea. How can I help you?”
“Hi. My name is Aspen Barlow. I live in Cedar Ridge on Huckleberry Lane. I’m following a deer with some wire wrapped around her pretty badly. Do you have anyone who might be able to help?”
“Ma’am, do not approach the deer if it’s injured. They can react badly when cornered.”
“I’m not trying to corner her. I just want to help her,” I explained.
I’d fallen into rehabilitating animals over the last several years. It seemed like they found me more than I found them. It had started with Mabel. The farmhouse’s previous owner hadn’t only taken poor care of his property; he’d neglected his donkey, as well. He’d mentioned just putting her down when he moved out, and I’d hurried to say I would take her.
I hadn’t had the first clue how to care for a donkey, but the internet had taught me most of what I needed to know. It had taken time to earn Mabel’s trust. She was the one who’d taught me not to corner an animal who was scared or hurt. I had gotten a nasty gash courtesy of a kick from her when I got too close, too quickly.
The woman on the phone sighed. “My officers are only responding to emergencies right now due to the snow.”
Annoyance flickered through me. “This deer is suffering. That’s not an emergency?”
“The public isn’t at risk from an injured deer.”
Meaning she would’ve responded to a call about a black bear or a cougar.
“Ma’am. Please. She’s hurting.” My voice nearly broke as I spoke. I couldn’t leave the doe out here alone in the cold.
The woman sighed, muttering something under her breath. “I can try one person who might be out that way, but I can’t make any promises. Where are you?”
I rattled off my approximate address, and she hung up without another word.
My teeth began to chatter as the wind picked up again. It was the kind of cold that hurt your skin. I didn’t want to think about what the temperature might’ve dropped to.
The deer trembled, looking over her shoulder at me.
“It’s okay, girl. You’re not alone. I’m gonna get you fixed up in no time.”
She started walking again, limping on her bad leg.
“Just stay put. It’ll be easier on both of us.”
The doe didn’t listen.
“I get it. You’re determined. Been living like this a while?”
She kept right on walking.
I followed her, wondering if I could just grab the wire and free her. I worried the inside of my cheek as I studied the metal imprisoning her. I thought I might be able to get her out if I got my fingers under a specific corner.
I made a clucking sound with my tongue as the wind howled again. The deer halted, glancing skeptically at me.
“Here, girl. Want some apple?”
She sniffed the air and took a step closer.
“That’s it.”
Another step.
“This apple is super yummy.”
A little closer.
The doe strained her neck.
A deep voice cut through the wind. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
2
ROAN
The woman was going to get herself killed. Standing in the freezing cold in a jacket that wasn’t nearly warm enough and a hat with some sort of damned pom-pom on the top. And was that glitter woven through it? Sparkly shit didn’t do anything to keep you warm.
There she was, bending over, trying to get an injured animal to come to her with an apple. The second she tried to pull that wire free, the deer would lose its mind and probably kick her in the head. She’d be lucky if she got out of it with only a concussion.
The woman whirled around, her red hair flying as her eyes went wide—eyes so green they were a sucker punch to the gut. I sucked in a breath.
The moment I saw true fear in them, I wanted to kick myself. She covered it quickly, taking up a stance I recognized as one ready for defense. I instantly took a step back. I should’ve expected it, been used to it by now, but it still grated. “I’m from Fish and Wildlife,” I gritted out.
A little of the tension bled out of her. “Oh.”
Then annoyance filled her expression. “Then you shouldn’t be barking at me for trying to help a deer.”
“I didn’t bark at you.”
She arched a brow. “Pretty sure you came storming over here looking like the abominable snowman and growling like one, too.”
I scowled at her. “I was trying to stop you from getting yourself killed.”
“I know it’s a risk, but she’s hurting and alone. I wasn’t going to leave her to suffer.”
A muscle in my jaw twitched. “A cornered animal, especially when they’re in pain, will react badly. Deer’s hooves can be lethal. Especially if they connect with your skull.”