Jessie realized Felix was staring at her and she took the baby bottle from him. “I’ll feed her. I’m running behind this morning.”
“You were out late last night,” he said. “I’m glad Mr. Cadde was with you.”
Jessie patted his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”
“I wish you hadn’t fired those guards.” Felix’s words of concern followed her.
So many people worried about her. She just wanted to breathe and feel free without someone looking over her shoulder. Was that too much to ask?
“Please, let’s not have this conversation again.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Guilt nudged her at his woeful tone. “I’m fine, Felix.”
He nodded, his floppy straw hat covering his expression.
She knelt in front of the cage that Felix had built and opened the door. The little fawn looked at her, fear in her big brown eyes.
“She’s better, huh?” Felix asked.
Jessie scooted in and put an arm around the fragile neck, stroking the tan-and-white-spotted body. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” While talking, Jessie tempted the fawn’s mouth with the nipple. She trembled and then licked and took the bottle greedily.
“Oh, yeah, she’s much better. Yesterday I had to practically force her to suck.”
The fawn downed the bottle in no time and Jessie crawled out, smiling. “We need to give her a name.”
“Mmm.”
“Bambi,” Jessie decided. “We’ll call her Bambi.”
“Sounds good.” Felix trailed behind her as she went through the door to the corral. “I already gave the horses a round bale of hay.”
She leaned on the fence, watching the horses.
“They look good, too, huh?” Felix asked beside her.
The horses gathered in the middle of the corral, munching on big chunks of coastal. Their sores, welts and infections had healed and they were gaining weight. When she’d first gotten them, they’d been so thin.
“Yeah,” she murmured, thinking about Lady. She’d gotten the hoof infection again and died about two years ago. Jessie missed her and she missed riding. These horses were broken to ride. She might give it a whirl when they were healthier. But then she had a lot on her plate right now and she didn’t want to get thrown on her butt.
She felt a gentle nudge and turned to see the donkey, not so patiently waiting for feed. He’d lost one eye from infection, and it always seemed as if he was winking at her, so she’d called him Winky.
The ram, not wanting to miss any attention, joined them. She petted both. The ram she called Dopey. At mealtime he was always trying to hook Winky with his horn, which wasn’t there anymore. The crazy thing didn’t seem to know that.
“Come on, you two, I’ll give you some sweet feed.”
After tending to them Jessie glanced at her watch and realized she was running late. She’d promised Fran at the shelter that she would come in today.
“I’ve got to run, Felix.” She wiped her hands on her jeans. “Would you mind giving Bambi a bottle about one? I’ll pick up some cream to add to her milk and feed her again when I get back.”
“Okay, but I don’t like you driving around out there by yourself. Sure wish you had a guard.”
Jessie just shook her head.
“I got the feed out of your Suburban,” Felix called after her. “I left the back open so it can air out a bit.”
“Thanks.”
She ran to the house, ignoring the Dobermans. The August sun was already hot, her clothes were sticking to her and she smelled faintly of manure. Good grief! A quick shower and she’d be on her way.
As she darted through the kitchen, Rosa was preparing lunch.
“Miss Jessie—”
“Not now, Rosa, I have to go to the shelter.”
“Why? Why do you have to go to that place?”
Jessie put her hands over her ears, not wanting to hear one more word about her safety. Why did everyone treat her as if she was helpless? Cadde had never done that. The highlight of her life was sitting on the other end of the table at board meetings watching him glare at her. He treated her as an equal, though, not sucking up to her like Hooter Caldwell and Hubert Gillespie, two of her father’s old cronies.
Before each board meeting, Cadde would want to talk. He’d explained what was going to be discussed. Not once had he come out and asked for her vote. He’d leaned heavily in that direction, but he never crossed that line.
If he had said, “Jessie, please,” she wouldn’t have been able to refuse. She admired that he let her make her own decisions. If she had bowed to his wishes, she would have become helpless in his eyes as she was in everyone else’s. She wasn’t letting that happen. Maybe she had a thing about control.