She pulled up near the clinic within minutes, a tiny part of her relieved to see Bakhari playing gently, given his stitches, with one of the keepers, Niara and the kids. A deeper part knew who she’d lost. The youngest calf, Ito, who hadn’t been drinking well. She left Jack behind and made her way to the enclosure where several of her crew had gathered. The keepers stood in silent respect for Ito, who lay motionless. Kamau rose from his crouched position over the little elephant.
“He’s gone, Anna. I’m sorry. Too young and refusing to eat.” Kamau put a hand on her shoulder as he walked out. She knew he’d tried. He was the best vet around, in her opinion, but sometimes a calf couldn’t handle the sadness of not knowing where its mother was, or worse, the trauma of witnessing what had happened to her. Ito had been a witness.
Anna took Kamau’s spot near the calf and ran her hand along his side, then down his trunk. She heard everyone leave. They’d learned over the years that she needed a few minutes alone whenever a little one was lost. This time, it seemed even harder. The entire day had been too much to handle. Her emotions were already raw. You don’t take a baby from its mother. She bent over and laid her cheek against Ito’s silent chest and let one, only one, sob escape. She had to harden herself. For facing Jack and for holding tight to Pippa. No way would Anna let her daughter grow up the way she had. No way would she make the mistake her mother had made.
* * *
JACK STEPPED AWAY from the pen as quietly as he could when he realized Anna was crying. For all the expanse of nature surrounding them, privacy, he realized, wasn’t something she got too much of at camp. And after their argument, he was certain his presence would only make her feel worse. Not that he should care, considering what she’d done to him, but seeing her like that... He couldn’t handle it.
He walked back to his tent and found Kamau cleaning his face and neck with a damp cloth.
“What happened?” Jack asked.
The vet hung the cloth on a nail and reached for a dry towel.
“Wouldn’t eat. Not uncommon with young orphans, but we’ve learned a lot from experiences at other orphanages on reserves, so we have a good success rate. Sometimes we find them injured, like the other calf, Bakhari. His ankle was caught in a snare. We were lucky with him. But sometimes they’re so despondent over separation or loss of their loved ones. Depression. That one kills. Elephants are more humanlike than most people know. They’re very emotional and family-oriented animals. They mourn, protect, play. Ito lost his mother.”
Jack simply nodded. There wasn’t anything to say. He’d just arrived, and yet the death had had an impact on him, too. Death, especially the sight of it, gouged him deep. Kamau was right. The image of a dead parent wasn’t easily forgotten by a child. Even in adulthood.
“I hate to say it, but around here, it’s something one has to get used to,” Kamau said. “Especially if you’re planning to go out in the field with me.”
“I can handle it,” Jack said.
He turned and went back outside, hoping to catch the kids still playing, but they were gone. He wanted to see Pippa close up. Needed to. Those eyes and curls. Her adorable nose was Anna’s, but everything else resembled the pictures his parents had taken of him shortly after his adoption, even if he’d been older than Pippa at the time. He needed her to know who he was. That he was here and he’d never leave her.
His parents would want to meet her. They’d be overjoyed to find out they had another grandchild. Knowing them, they’d be more forgiving of Anna than he could ever be.
What Kamau had said about the elephants gnawed at him, but this wasn’t the same as taking a baby from its mother. Pippa was old enough to understand that her mom could visit. That Mommy was working...that Daddy was, too. Okay. So he still had things to figure out. He couldn’t take her to his lab, but he made enough now to be able to afford help. His sister didn’t live too far from him, and she had kids. She’d be there for him. That wouldn’t be so different than what Anna was doing, except Pippa would have access to great schools, a yard with swing sets, lots of friends her age, cousins and grandparents. And there wouldn’t be elephants, lions, rhinos or black mambas roaming through her backyard.
He remembered Anna’s plea, but couldn’t get over the change in her. The Anna he’d known was crouched in that pen over that baby. The one who had kept his child from him wasn’t the same person.
He headed for the tent the kids and Anna’s friend had come out of earlier. Kamau had mentioned it was like a mess hall. Maybe they were there. He’d no sooner picked up his stride when something hit him on the head. Hard. He crouched with one hand on the point of pain and the other held up like a shield.
“What the—?”
He looked up in time to see a one-legged monkey swinging away. Screeches and cackles filled the air and sounded much the same as human laughter.
Of all the insane things. The heat really was getting to him.
“Hey, Jack. Come and I’ll show you around. Bring any supplies you need,” Kamau said, as he headed to the clinic entrance. Guess that meant the coast was clear.
“Be right there,” Jack said, more interested in finding Pippa but realizing he was at a disadvantage around here. He’d get further by being reasonable.
Jack went inside, grabbed his case and carried it over. He needed to figure out how he’d get samples on dry ice back to his colleague in Nairobi within a few days, if he was extending his stay. He entered the clinic and set his stuff down on the counter where Kamau indicated a free space.
“You didn’t mention it was Dr. Harper,” Kamau said, filling a syringe. “Dr. Miller just sent another email to see if you’d made it in one piece. It said to advise you to try and remain that way.” Kamau chuckled. “Is he talking about the dangerous wildlife or our Dr. Bekker?”
Jack smiled but didn’t take the bait. “By the way, it’s a PhD, just so you know not to throw any surgery or clinic cases my way,” Jack said, changing the subject.
“In what?” Kamau asked.
“Genetics. Specifically, genetic immunity to pathogens in wildlife species. I’m working with a lab collecting genetic samples for a sort of library of endangered species, but also for studies on resistance.”
“Ah. With Dr. Alwanga, by any chance? I’ve read his journal articles.”
“The one and only.”
“Excellent. Let me know if you need anything. I have to head out on rounds—to make sure I’m not needed in the field and to pick up some of the recording devices we’ve set out for Anna south of camp. You can come along tomorrow, if you’d like, when you have your things together.”
Jack noticed a small room off the one where they stood. It looked as if it contained a lot of recording gadgets and a computer.
“Do you have an inventory of camp needs for me to go through while you’re gone?”
“It’s with Anna.”
Jack glanced out the tiny window toward the pen where Ito had been. Kamau seemed to catch that Jack was wondering if she’d be too upset to work.
“Anna is checking on some recording equipment on the north side of camp. She’ll be back soon.” He paused, as if calculating his next words. “Our Anna, she’s resilient. Stubborn, too, but strong and hardworking. She’ll have that list down to bare bones and top it off with more research data than Dr. Miller could dream of.”
“And she’ll need to work in peace, without anyone invading her space,” Anna said, standing in the doorway and looking pointedly at Jack and his supplies on the counter.
Invading her space. Invading her life.
“Anna. Perfect timing. I was just telling Dr. Harper that you’d be able to show him our inventory and requirements,” Kamau said,