them off on his hand. “Two pigs, three cows, four horses, two alligators, a whole slew of turtles, goats, a llama, ducks, geese, a hawk, several rabbits, two doves and Roscoe. It’s like the twelve days of Christmas around here. Do you have a partridge in a pear tree, too?”
She laughed again then tossed back that shimmering mane of dark hair. “I just might. It’s crazy, that’s for sure. I never have enough time or money. And people bring me all kinds of animals—dogs, cats, raccoons, you name it. I can’t keep some of them so I have to call the state wildlife department to come and get them. Breaks my heart, but I just don’t have the funding and I have to adhere to state regulations.”
He followed her toward the stables as she headed back by the various cages and pens toward the main house. “How do you make money?”
“I don’t. I have a board of directors that oversees operations and decides my annual salary—which isn’t much, let me tell you. I charge for tours but until I get everything up to state code with the gator pen, I can’t conduct any tours for a while. I speak at schools and civic organizations, and that brings in some funding, and I have a few corporate sponsors. But my income is at a minimum at best.”
“How do you get by, then?”
She stopped and pushed at her hair. “I have a trust fund. It’s small, though. My parents set it up for me a long time ago and it grew over the years. After I got out of college, they turned it over to me.”
“And now you use that to live? No wonder you gave up meat.”
She gave him a stare that told him he was being too personal. “I get by, Anderson. And giving up meat was my choice when I was young. Don’t worry.”
He did worry, though. Getting by was one thing. Living like a miser was another. “You’re gonna need a lot of funding to do everything you told me about. From what I could tell, digging that alligator pond is a big deal.”
“Yes, that’s true. And I’m working on funding for that. But if word gets out that a drug cartel uses my land for little get-togethers, I guess I can kiss that and my few sponsors goodbye, right along with the plans I’ve drawn up to overhaul this place.”
“Let me worry about that, then,” he replied, resolve coloring his tone. Since he’d already observed the two women who were in the office today as well as several of the other volunteers, he asked, “When does your part-time person come in?”
“After school, around three-thirty.”
He noted that. “And the construction workers?”
“They show up when they’re good and ready. They’ve got several jobs so like I told you last night, I have to wait my turn. Of course, now they’ll have to repair the fence, too.”
Anderson wondered if she let people walk all over her, but remembered she could get in your face when she wanted to. Was she stalling on the work because of lack of funds?
Not your concern right now, he reminded himself. “So when can we take a ride out and look around? I might get a better angle in the daylight.”
She tossed that hair again. “Well, I have to clean out the stables—the empty stalls are used for everything from isolating animals to storing supplies—and we’ll need to eat a bite. We could take the horses and check the work on the new pen after Jacob gets here. We’ll be able to ride the entire back part of the property, too.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Anderson said, glancing around. “I could either help with the stable or I can try and secure this place a little more. Add a few brighter lights here and there, make sure all the door locks are up to snuff.”
“I can’t pay for that.”
“Don’t worry about the pay right now.”
“I don’t take charity.”
“But you take donations, right?”
She frowned. “Is that some kind of Ranger trick question?”
Anderson let out a grunt of irritation. “It’s a simple question. You have sponsors and people who support this place, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, then, add my name to the list. Besides, I have to look the part of a security expert.”
She stopped next to a storage building and turned to the spigot and big industrial sink, then started dumping buckets off the wheeled wagon she’d used to feed the penned animals. “So you’re an animal lover?”
“I am. I’m as fond of animals as the next man, I reckon. Although my tendency runs toward mutts in stead of alligators. We have several interesting adopted dogs on our property.”
“Well, in that case, thank you, Mr. Ranger-man, for your kind donations and…I’m sure Boudreaux and Bobby Wayne will appreciate it, too.”
“And how about you? Will you appreciate it?”
“Of course I will,” she said, her actions telling him she was chafing underneath his intense questions. Water splashed and gurgled as she moved the spray hose over her feeding buckets with a tad too much zest.
Anderson didn’t know why he was pushing the issue. It was just a few light bulbs and some door locks. What did it matter whether she liked it or not? It was for her protection, not to win points with her. Besides, his main focus was that pond. If the cartel had already messed with her new fence, what would they do next? He had to be there to find out.
Wanting to prolong being around her in spite of her sensitivity to accepting help and in spite of his need to stay professional, he said, “I’ll help you finish up with the horses and the stables so I can get used to things, then I’ll make a list of what I need to fix this place up.” He shrugged. “I do know my way around a stable and from first glance, this one looks to be really well-organized.”
She finished spraying the buckets then motioned toward the big building. “But it could use some sprucing up. A group of horse lovers took it on when I started renovating a couple of years ago. They made the grooming buckets for each horse, organized the shelves and cabinets in the tack room and they donated galvanized trash cans for feed—to keep the other critters out. And I have a leaf blower to get rid of dust and cobwebs.” Shaking her hands to dry them, she said, “Of course, I stay so busy I don’t have time to tidy things up every day so it tends to get messy. I missed checking the tack room yesterday, but my volunteers gave me an update on the horses. I keep the tack room locked since I have medicine for the animals in there.”
“I’m impressed. I’ll check everything out and see if anything needs tweaking. That is, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind and I’m sorry if I got testy before,” she retorted, pulling out a set of keys. “I’m learning to accept help whether I like it or not.” Motioning to him, she walked around the side of the old barn. “If you’ll put up the equipment, I’ll unlock the tack room door.”
Anderson watched her take off, then he gathered the clean buckets and put them back on the wagon and followed her.
Jennifer’s high-pitched shout caused him to let go of the wagon and hurry into the big barn. He found her at the door of the tack room, her hands covering
