Safe At Home. Carolyn McSparren
course, m’dear, they know everything.” Mace dropped his arm across Tala’s shoulders. “And obviously they approve. Now, it’s time for my world-famous pancakes. We have to put some meat on those bones. Coming, Pete?”
Pete watched as Mace helped Tala on with her parka and ushered her out into the frigid, but blessedly sunny, morning. Instantly, the girls swung away from their bars and walked purposefully toward the door to their enclosure that led out to the pastures beyond. They were going outside to meet Tala at close quarters.
He closed his eyes. What he felt was envy. She had a quality that endeared her to animals and people alike. Mace was no pushover, yet here he was simpering away like Maurice Chevalier.
And here Pete was once more—odd man out, even when it came to his very own elephants.
“Blast it, they’ll scare her half to death,” he swore and trotted out the door.
“AH, GLORIOUS MORNING,” Mace Jacobi said, linking Tala’s arm through his. “The roads should be completely dry in another hour.”
Tala started to reply, then noticed that the girls had silently meandered up behind her. How could they be so huge yet move so quietly?
She turned and caught her breath. Without bars, and in direct sunlight, she realized how monumental they were. She shaded her eyes with her hands, stared up at them and gulped. Mace patted her arm.
“Just checking you out, m’dear,” he said, and walked on. “They’ve already said they approve.”
Tala squared her shoulders and followed him, expecting any moment to feel the thud of a trunk on the top of her head. When they reached the steps of Mace’s trailer, however, she turned to see that the girls hadn’t moved, but were swaying back and forth in unison like overweight chorus girls. She smiled and waved at them, then followed Mace inside.
“Let me take your coat,” he said. “And how do you like your coffee?”
“Black, please.”
“You should have cream and sugar, but we’ll make up for that. The pancake batter is already in the refrigerator. I simply have to pour and flip. Please sit down. It’s cramped, I know, but I don’t normally have company, certainly not so beautiful nor so early.”
How could anyone be afraid of this man? Tala thought. He was as courtly as a knight, unlike his grumpy son. Her breath quickened as the face of that son rose up unbidden behind her eyes. He was nearly as big as the elephants, and a good deal scarier. “I don’t think Dr. Jacobi wants me here,” she said as she reached for the cup of steaming coffee Mace handed to her.
“I am Dr. Jacobi, and I do want you here. Besides, don’t let Pete fool you. We can well afford it. We desperately need the help. I’m not making that up.”
Suddenly he sounded formidable indeed. This must be the man who terrified vet students. “I don’t want to cause trouble,” she said in a small voice.
“Nonsense! You are just what my stubborn son needs. He’s turning into a hermit, and an ill-tempered one at that. Been too long since he had to deal with human beings. Animals don’t talk back, although the girls give a very close approximation when they’re pissed.”
“Why not?” she asked. “Human beings, I mean.”
He glanced at her. “Long story, and not mine to tell. Ask him when you know him a little better.”
The door opened at that moment, and the object of their conversation ducked to avoid smacking his head on the lintel. Suddenly the trailer seemed tiny.
Tala squeezed into her corner. Adam hadn’t been but a couple of inches taller than she, and slightly built, although muscular. She’d always felt comfortable with him, with his even temperament. The children took after him physically—slight, well-coordinated and athletic. Temperamentally they were more like Tala’s Cherokee grandmother, especially Rachel, who was anything but calm.
This man looked as though he could wrestle one of those elephants to the ground if he had to. And he seemed to have the nasty temperament of her granddaddy’s Jersey bull. What was his problem, for heaven’s sake?
She moved over even more to give him as much room as she could, and held her body as tight as possible. She heard the sizzle of pancake batter hitting hot fat and smelled the luscious aroma of pancakes—with something else. “Do you add vanilla?” she asked Mace.
“Ah, the girl has a good nose.”
“Not an asset around here,” Pete said. “There are times when the odors of wet hay, wet elephant and wet elephant droppings can peel paint.”
He was obviously trying to discourage her. “No worse than chickens,” she said. “Or pigs. And piles probably not much larger than a full-grown cow’s. I’ve cleaned up after all of those. And then, of course, there are babies. After two kids’ worth of dirty diapers, bad smells don’t bother me much.”
“That, m’dear, is something about which my son knows nothing whatsoever,” Mace said as he flipped the first saucer-size pancake expertly onto a plate.
Tala glanced at Pete. For some reason his father’s remark seemed to annoy him a lot more than it should have. Was this another bone of contention between them? Pete hadn’t made Mace a grandfather?
“Here you go, m’dear,” Mace said, and sat a short stack of steaming pancakes in front of her, followed in quick succession by a small collection of jugs and jars, and a butter dish. “Maple syrup, plain syrup, honey, blackberry syrup. Take your pick.” He beamed at her.
“This is too much. Dr. Jacobi, wouldn’t you like to take this one?”
“That’s about a quarter of what Pete puts away. His are coming up, and mine thereafter. The only problem with pancakes is that they require baby-sitting.”
Tala stopped in midpour. “Oh, God, can I use your phone?”
“Of course.” Mace looked puzzled. Pete stood and pressed his big body against the far wall so that she could squeeze through.
“Phone’s in my bedroom,” Mace said. “It’s set on intercom at the moment. Just punch one of the buttons. You’ll get a dial tone.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll keep your pancakes hot for you.”
Mace’s bedroom was as spartan as a monk’s cell and spotlessly clean. She picked up the telephone and punched a button, then dialed. The phone was answered on the first ring. “Irene?” she asked.
“Good Lord, Tala! Where on earth have you been? I’ve been calling your house since seven this morning. Ten more minutes and I was going to send Sheriff Craig to find out if you’d gone over the side of a cliff in the ice.”
“I’m so sorry, Irene. I meant to check in earlier.”
“Your phone out of order? I swear, Tala, Vertie and I have been frantic what with the sleet and all.”
“And the children?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell them I couldn’t reach you. They’ve had enough to worry about. The school finally decided to operate today. Two flakes, and they usually slam the doors. Wasn’t a bit like that when I was growing up. We went to school rain, sleet or snow.”
Tala relaxed. At least Rachel and Cody weren’t worried about her. Since Adam’s death, Rachel acted as though she never gave her mother a thought, but Cody worried constantly. Maybe Rachel worried as well, but she’d never let Tala know.
In the background she heard, “Has Miss Tala deigned to call at last? Give me that phone!”
A moment later Tala grinned at Vertie’s tone. “Why on earth do you think God gave us the telephone if not to keep in touch with our loved ones?”
“I’ve already apologized to Irene,” Tala said.