“We’ll go back to the compound, see if anyone can use some extra hands.”

“Always.”

FROM HIS POSITION on high ground, through the lenses of his field glasses, he watched the family group. Observing prey was essential, learning the habits, the territory, the dynamics, strengths. Weaknesses.

Patience was another essential. He could admit that the-occasional-lack of it was one of his weaknesses. Temper had been another. Temper had cost him eighteen months inside when it had pushed him to beat a man half to death in a bar.

But he’d learned to control his temper, to remain calm and objective. To use the kill for personal satisfaction.

Never in heat, never in rage. Cold and cool.

The cougar had been impulse. It was there, and he’d wanted to know what it was like to kill the wild thing eye-to-eye. He’d been disappointed. The lack of challenge, the lack of the hunt equaled no personal satisfaction.

It had, he was forced to admit, brought him a mild sense of shame.

He’d had to offset that by letting his temper out-just a little-and destroying the camp. But he’d done so precisely, and that was important. He’d done so in a way that sent a message.

Lil. Lillian. Dr. Chance. She was so interesting. He’d always thought so. Look at her with her family unit-there, a definite weakness.

It might be satisfying to use that against her. Fear added to the thrill of the hunt. He wanted her to fear. He’d learned how much more it meant when the fear came with it. And he believed it would be more exciting to scent hers, as he’d seen she didn’t fear easily.

He would make her fear.

He respected her, and her bloodline. Even if she did not respect her ancestry. She defiled it with this place, these cages where the free and wild were imprisoned. This sacred place of his people-and hers.

Yes, he would make her fear.

She’d be an excellent addition to his count. His biggest prize to date.

He replaced his binoculars, shimmied back from the ridge before he rose. He hefted his light pack, and stood in the late-winter sunlight, fingering the necklace of bear teeth around his neck. The single thing he’d kept of his father’s.

His father had taught him of the ancestry, and the betrayals. He’d taught him how to hunt and how to live on the holy land. How to take what he needed without remorse, without regret.

He wondered what he would take, and keep, from Lil after the kill.

Satisfied with the day’s scouting, he began his hike back to his den, where he would plan the next step of the game.

13

Lil was about to prep for the evening feeding when Farley arrived. He came on horseback, looking like a man who could sit easy all day in the saddle if that was required.

It struck her, as it never had before, how alike he and Coop were in that single area. A couple of city kids who’d morphed into cowboys. Who looked, when they were in the saddle, as if they’d been born there.

And there, she supposed, the similarity ended. Farley was open and easygoing, Coop closed and difficult.

Or maybe that was just her perspective on them.

She turned to Lucius.

“Why don’t you go keep an eye on things in the commissary? I’ll be right along.”

She walked over to meet Farley and give his horse Hobo a pat on the cheek. “Hello, boys.”

“Hi there, Lil. Got ya something.” He pulled the clutch of pink-and-white daisies peeking their tops out of his saddlebag.

Pleasure and surprise bloomed in equal parts. “You brought me flowers?”

“I thought maybe you could use a little brightening up.”

She looked at them-sweet, fresh, and yes, bright. And she smiled. Smiling, she crooked her finger to signal him to lean over.

His rubber grin stretched when she planted a loud kiss on his cheek. Then she cocked an eyebrow. “Are those daffodils I see sticking out of your saddlebag?”

“Sure look like daffodils to me.”

Lil patted his ankle affectionately. “She’s touring a group who came in a while ago. The father’s a big fan of Deadwood. The TV thing. So they made the trip to see it, after doing Rushmore, and heard about us in town. He thought the kids would get a charge.”

“Bet they will.”

“They’d be about halfway around now, if you want to catch up.”

“Guess I will. Lil, I can bunk here tonight if you want.”

“Thanks, Farley, but I’m covered.”

“Yeah, I heard.” His cheeks pinked a little when she stared at him. “I mean to say Joe said how Coop was likely staying around. To keep an eye out. It eases your pa’s mind knowing that,” he added.

“Which is why I’m allowing it. Tell Tansy we’re about to start the evening feeding. The family from Omaha is going to get more bang for their buck.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Farley?” She gave Hobo another rub as she looked up into Farley’s face. “You and Tansy are two of my favorite people in the world. You’re family to me, so I’m going to say what I think.”

His face went carefully blank. “All right, Lil.”

“Good luck.”

His smile flickered, then expanded. “I guess I need it.”

He trotted off, bolstered. He set store by Lil’s opinion, so her approval-it seemed approval to him-meant a lot. Whistling a little, he traveled the loop of the path out of the compound and around the first enclosures.

The ground rose and fell as nature would have it. Outcroppings of rocks jutted up-some had been there since God knew, and some Lil had put in. Trees speared and spread, offering shade and opportunities for climbing, for scratching. Even as he rode by, one of the bobcats stretched out, sharpening his claws on the bark of a pine.

He spotted the trolley they used for groups around the bend and across the flat, but resisted the urge to nudge Hobo into a gallop. When he reached them they stood outside the tiger habitat watching the big cat yawn, roll, and stretch in a way that told Farley he’d just awakened from a nap.

Probably knew it was coming on suppertime.

“Howdy, folks.” He tapped a finger to the brim of his hat. “Lil said I should tell you it’s feeding time,” he told Tansy.

“Thank you, Farley. Excluding those in the petting zoo, the animals here at the refuge are nocturnal. We feed them in the evening, as it reinforces their natural hunting instincts.”

She used what Farley thought of as her “official” voice. He could listen to it all day long.