Ethan greeted the driver and peered inside at the sheep. Behind them, he saw the Angora rabbit huddling against the back of its wire cage. The lack of wool across the rabbit’s back alarmed Ethan. There were many causes of alopecia, but until he knew the exact reason for the hair loss, he wasn’t putting the rabbit with the other petting zoo animals.
Animals had been Ethan’s companions since he’d been a toddler. He’d only required his mother’s Maine coon cat curled up next to him to fall asleep as a kid. As he grew, he’d spend hours outside, searching the creek for frogs, catching fireflies and climbing trees to peer at the baby birds in the nests. After his parents had died, his bond only deepened. Animals, he discovered, were simple to figure out: they loved without conditions. Never had hidden agendas. Only ever seemed to want his love and attention. The wounded, the scared and the rejected always tugged at those invisible heartstrings he didn’t want to admit to having. The pathetic rabbit tugged at those heartstrings now.
He sighed and signed off on the paperwork, bid the driver goodbye and frowned into the cage at the pure white rabbit. “Looks like we’re going to be sharing a cabin for a while, Coconut.”
Water bowl full, bath towels on the floor and an empty toilet paper roll stuffed with grass for Coconut’s entertainment, Ethan returned to the petting zoo. He had to add a steel gate to the pen for the sheep. With the last nail drilled into place, Ethan gripped the new part of the enclosure and tested its strength to make sure there wouldn’t be any escapees.
Katie approached, her boots kicking dirt and stones around her. “You can’t spend all your time on these animal pens. There were calves born last month that still need vaccinations and branding.”
“It’s hardly a waste since this is the new petting zoo.” Besides, he never considered protecting animals a waste of time. “We need a plumber and an electrician to finish. And last time I checked, I wasn’t certified in either.” The last time he’d tinkered with electricity had been in middle school and he’d blown more than the fuses that night. Big E had made him clean every stall three times a day all by himself for two months after that particular stunt. “The ranch is better off with me building things.”
Katie seemed hesitant. “But a petting zoo implies, well, petting. These pens are shoulder height and hardly inviting.”
“Letting guests traipse around the stalls is an unnecessary health risk.” Ethan bent over and stuck his arm through the pen posts. If only everything was as simple and effective. Besides, he questioned how much the animals wanted to be petted. His pens offered enough room for the animals to watch the ranch guests from a distance. “See, the guests can reach through the fence posts like this.”
“That’s not on Zoe’s sketch,” Katie said.
“Neither are hand-washing stations, but we need two of those with running water and soap.” Minimizing health risks to the humans and the animals was essential to ensure the ranch didn’t spread disease. “Hand sanitizer isn’t enough.”
“It’s supposed to be a petting zoo with a large pen where animals wander around and guests pet them.” Katie unlatched the gate and swung the steel door open, her gaze trained on the hinges as if she didn’t trust Ethan’s craftsmanship. “Don’t you ever remember visiting one at the fair when we were little?”
No, he didn’t recall and Big E had had no time for fairs and frivolous games. And when Ethan was old enough to go to the fair alone, he’d been more interested in touching Sarah Ashley’s silky shoulder-length curls than petting miniature donkeys in the zoo. Ethan set his hands on his hips and stared at Katie. “You’re only getting a petting zoo if it’s safe and done right.”
“I don’t know what I want anymore.” Katie threw up her hands. “But we’ve got a website that promised the Zigler party of thirty arriving at the end of this month a real petting zoo.”
Tension knotted through Ethan’s shoulders as if he were carrying all the Zigler family’s overstuffed suitcases himself. He stretched his muscles, but the reminder of the Zigler family’s arrival in three weeks only made his shoulders spasm more. “They’ll have a petting zoo. An actual one. But without the Angora rabbit.”
“I never got a delivery cancellation notice for the rabbit.” Katie let the gate shut and eyed him. “There’s a picture of that rabbit on the guest ranch’s website. Has it already arrived? Can I see it?”
“Update the website to put the rabbit on medical leave.” Ethan carried his tools toward the work shed. “No, you can’t see it.”
“The website is locked down and I haven’t found the password yet.” Katie blocked him from opening the shed door. “Why can’t I see the rabbit?”
“Website photo or not, no one is petting the rabbit.” Ethan tried to nudge Katie out of his way.
She refused to budge, crossing her arms over her chest. “Because it carries a disease that can’t be washed off with soap and water?”
“Because it’s traumatized.” Ethan stabbed the shovel into the ground and leaned against the handle. “And stressed out.” Like him.
“That’s why you won’t let me see it?” Her twitching fingers stilled against her arms.
“Not you.” Ethan pointed at her Australian shepherd sprawled in the middle of the dirt path like the main attraction of the petting zoo. “Your sidekick.”
Noticing his regard, Hip wagged her tail, stirring the dirt into mini dust clouds.
“She’s gentle with all animals.” Katie tapped her leg, calling the dog to her, and placed her hand on Hip’s neck as if she needed to protect her.
“I know that,” Ethan said. “But Coconut doesn’t.”
“You’ve already named it?” Katie gaped at him as if he’d adopted a pet without the family’s permission. “Can’t we trade it in for another one that isn’t a stress case?”
“This isn’t like a pair of faulty pliers you return to Brewster’s.” These were live animals that needed proper shelters, beds and food. Ethan would ensure their safety before he left. “Coconut will settle in with time. Her stress should be temporary.” Otherwise they’ll have enough angora wool for new sweaters for the entire Blackwell family before Christmas.
“Speaking of stress, you’ve had six calls this afternoon from pet owners in town.” Katie bent down to pet Hip as if to assure herself the dog was fine.
Ethan released the shovel and looked at Katie. “Who’s calling here?”
Katie lifted her hands and began counting on her fingers. “Mrs. Hatfield. Her twelve-year-old cat, Sparky, is so lethargic he can’t make it into the litter box. Mr. Jacobson. His one-year-old German shepherd puppy ate brownies and his granddaughter’s socks, or so he thinks. The Kramer family says their chinchilla has strange spots on its—”
Ethan held up his hand and stopped her. “I meant why are they calling here?”
“They want your help.” Katie scowled at him as if that should’ve been obvious.
“I’m not licensed in this state.” He’d been trained in domestic animals and livestock and, later, specialized in equestrian rehabilitation.
“They don’t seem to care.” Hip rolled over onto her back, not seeming to care either. Katie rubbed the dog’s stomach until Hip’s leg scratched the air and her mouth opened in a toothy smile. “They want you over Dr. Terry, who, and I’m quoting here, ‘if he worked any slower, he’d have to speed up to stop.’”
“I didn’t tell anyone I was home,” Ethan said.
“You’re kidding, right?” Katie straightened and swiped a strand of hair