After they had checked into a motel for the night and eaten, Samantha said good night and went to her room. She checked her mail after she was in bed. One missive was from Jennie. A smile broke over her face as she saw the name. She liked the reporter a lot. Earlier in the day she had sent portions of her journal to Jennie for possible inclusion in her biography that the reporter assured her she was continuing to work on between assignments.
Hi Sammie--
I think the journal is a great idea. Keep it up, both for me and for your own use. You'll enjoy reading what you wrote about yourself later on when you're older. I did the same thing when I was your age and I still have my journal. I don't call it a diary because a diary implies just short notations while a journal is for more detailed occurrences and thoughts.
Now something of interest: It is generally known that I have exclusive permission from you to write (or release) your biography after you turn eighteen. I've just received a letter from a major publisher with an offer of an advance (see below), effective immediately. Since, according to the terms of our contract you will receive half of any royalties, I suggest you speak with your parents and ask whether we should accept this first offer or wait for something better. Frankly, I think we should wait. I expect you'll have many more adventures over the next four years and subsequently, your biography should be worth more. However, I will leave the decision up to you and your parents.
Hang in there, Sammie! The best is yet to come!
Warm regards,
Jennie.
When Samantha scanned on down and saw the amount of the advance Jennie had been offered she was astounded. It was such a large sum that she had a problem getting to sleep for thinking about it and wondering what her Mom and Dad would think.
Samantha disclosed the offer by a publisher the next morning before breakfast. Elaine were almost as astounded as her over the amount of the advance being offered. She offered her opinion of it. "I think Jennie is right, Sammie. As much as the advance is, I believe we should wait because she is also right about you probably having more adventures. I haven't told you yet, but Dr. Summers wrote an introductory letter to the veterinarian at the sanctuary. He'll be expecting you to check in with him as soon as we get settled."
"That was nice of Dr. Summers. I'm really going to miss her but I'm glad I might get to work with another vet. What's his name?"
"Johnathon Whitmeyer. He's older than Dr. Summers, somewhere in his late fifties I think, and I imagine he'll be wanting to retire in a few years or at least slow down some. He'll probably be glad to have some help."
"That's if he believes me when I tell him I can talk to animals."
Elaine laughed. "I think a few demonstrations will convince him. He's probably not nearly as hard-headed as I was. And if he does want you to help him, be sure he understands that he's not to speak of you being able to communicate with animals or you'll deny it."
"That sounds kind of impolite, Mom."
"You're right, Sammie. If and when, just ask him to please keep your talent a secret. If he doesn't, we'll deal with it then."
***
"Oh, this is so pretty!" Samantha exclaimed as their SUV climbed toward the continental divide and the Colorado plateau. The sanctuary was situated on the slopes in an area thick with Oak, Juniper, Aspen and Ponderosa Pine trees.
"It gets really spectacular later on. The scenery is beautiful but it's easy to get lost in and also easy to get hurt. Some of the smaller canyons are well-hidden by brush and have steep sides. You could take a tumble and hurt yourself and never be able to climb out," Gene said. "That's a warning, by the way. Don't ever go hiking or horseback riding alone."
"You hear that, Sammie?" her mother intoned.
"Yes, ma'am. Anyway, I'll always have Shufus with me."
"Do you know how to shoot, Sammie?" their driver and guard asked.
"No, sir. I wouldn't kill any animal unless we needed it for food and we never have, even in Alaska. And no animal would hurt me so I didn't see any sense in learning."
Gene was silent for a moment. "Sammie, I hate to say it, but some two-legged animals are more dangerous than the four legged types. It might not be a bad idea to learn to handle firearms while you're living up here. You dad told me about some of those crazies that were bothering you."
"We've never thought it was necessary, Gene. She was a bit young when we lived in Alaska and neither Ronald not I hunted much. We do have a rifle that he and I both can use although we're not what you would call crack shots. Ronald has a pistol, too, but it's only been fired it a few times."
"Just something to think about," Gene said and dropped the subject. He was still intrigued by Samantha's ability with animals and couldn't help wondering just how much intelligence she was able to convey and receive from them, despite having seen the recordings of her trysts with the tigers and the angry wolf. He hadn't said anything yet to the Douglas family but he was hoping he could find a position with the sanctuary. He did have a moderate amount of savings from his years of free-lancing as a security specialist. He could even afford to wait around if there was no job now but a possibility later on. He liked the family and wanted to see how Samantha developed as she grew up. Would she keep that affinity for and interest in animals or would the opposite sex and hormones drive her in a different direction? He thought she was probably intelligent and level-headed enough to handle both, but of course couldn't be certain.
***
"I believe this is it, Gene," Elaine said. "We'll be staying in the center cabin until we find a place of our own." He had been looking at a map and guided them to a clearing at the side of a very rough road that led on to the administrative center of the sanctuary. There were several cabins situated in the cleared area, each with what looked to be a garden plot. The cabins were separated from each other by fifty to seventy-five yards and tall pines and other varieties of vegetation grew in and around the clearing. It was a bucolic setting now but he had to wonder what it would be like in the depth of winter. Hopefully they would have found a home to buy or a site to build on before then but if they built, she doubted a home could be finished before winter closed in. The climate, so different from Southeastern Texas, was the main drawback to the job so far as she was concerned. The mild subtropical weather of the Texas piney woods had spoiled them even though they had lived a dozen years in Alaska.
Elaine tried the door while feeling for the key that had been mailed to her. "Hey, this place isn't even locked!"
"There isn't much vandalism or thievery in the area. The wilderness is managed by the Forestry Service and they also have a sort of loose agreement with the Sanctuary for the land they own. So far as I know there's never been any problems up here," Gene explained while carrying two of the suitcases in.
"I thought you hadn't been here for a long time?"
"I came through once with a client a couple of years ago. And like I told you, I know the Sanctuary Director. He's a nice guy and so is his wife. They're going to be real glad to see you."
"I guess they were expecting us. The electricity is on,"
"The water should be, too. Both are tied in to the Administrative center and its ancillary buildings. Those and these three cabins are the only buildings with lights and water around here. The idea is to keep the place as natural as possible. It had to be fenced, of course." He looked at his watch. "Would you two like to rest a bit before running over to the admin center? There's time."
"I'd just as soon go on over there and check in now, then we can feel free to take our time getting settled. Unless Mr. Thomas wants me to get to work right away, of course."
"I doubt that he'll start you today," Gene said with a laugh. "If you're ready, then let's go."
Elaine gathered Samantha with a nudge toward the door then stopped suddenly. "Gene, I just happened to think--how are you going to get back to the airport? Or is there an airport anywhere near here?"
He laughed. "You're just now wondering about that? The sanctuary has a small landing field and a contract with a charter company. I'll stay in one of their guest rooms and fly out tomorrow or the next day."
She noticed just then that he was carrying his small handbag.
"Will we ever see you again, Gene?"
"If I have my way about it you will. Remember, I'm applying for a job here."
"Well, I hope you get it," Samantha said. She liked the man and Shufus also approved of him. Anytime her dog showed obvious liking for a person, she automatically trusted his judgment. The one time she hadn't was enough to cause her to depend on him from then on in determining the character of a prospective friend.
"Me, too, Sammie. I'd like to stick around for a while."
***
Stanley Thomas and his wife met them inside the entrance to the Bryant Memorial Wild Animal Sanctuary. The full name was carved into the native stone of an arch surrounding the large doorway. Thomas held out his hand and smiled widely. "Welcome to the Sanctuary! I'm Stanley Thomas and this is my wife, Tracie. Just call us Tom and Tracie. Please, no Stan or Stanley. I've always disliked that name. And by the way, we're real informal around here except when the Forestry Service bigwigs take a notion to inspect us. We're both very glad to see you."
"I'm glad to meet you, Tom and Tracie. This is my daughter, Samantha and her dog, Shufus. Sammie to her friends. And you've met Gene before, I think."
"Right. Good to see you again, Gene. We'll talk about your application later on. Come on in folks. There's a fresh brewed pot of coffee or if you prefer something else, I'm sure we can manage."
"Coffee is fine for Sammie and I."
"Same here," Gene seconded. Shufus gave a soft woof. He didn't care for the taste of coffee but he liked the aroma of it.
Just inside the main building was a short hallway that opened into a huge den with a fireplace big enough to roast oxen, or so Elaine thought. Off to each side of the den, entrances to the rest of the interior were invitingly open. Part of a rather large office was visible down the hall through a door left ajar, revealing a desk and computer and shelving along the wall spaces that were visible. The shelves were almost full of stacked books, magazines and binders.
"Let's go sit in the den, folks. You'll all see the rest of the place after we sit and chat a bit." He led the way into the spacious room and waved a hand at comfortable chairs and short couches arranged in a semi-circle in front of the fireplace. A huge low table made from an elongated section of a pine tree graced the center of the arrangement. It held numerous figurines of native animals carved from wood and then polished and varnished to a high gloss. Or perhaps representatives of the different types of animals the sanctuary held, Elaine thought. If that proved correct, Samantha would have a lot of fun.
"Back in a minute," Tom said while his wife and the visitors seated themselves. He returned a moment later bearing a tray with a carafe, cups and saucers. Elaine noted that neither of them appeared to like condiments in their coffee since the tray held none. He poured for everyone, including his wife.
Samantha was intrigued with the decorations in the den. There were numerous examples of native art, including vases, figurines, hunting weapons, rugs of tanned animal skins and paintings that depicted realistic scenes of the area and its fauna and flora. She was looking around so avidly that Elaine had to nudge her to make her realize someone had asked her a question. She had no idea who nor what.
She blushed. "I'm sorry. I was so involved with admiration of this room that my mind wandered."
Tom grinned at her. "I was just saying, your appearance doesn't exactly match what I've seen of you in the media."
"Oh, that. It's just a temporary disguise so we wouldn't be recognized on the trip here. I'm going back to the real me as soon as possible."
He looked again at her and then Elaine. "The public's been giving you a hard time, I take it?"
"You can't imagine, Tom. I'm so glad to get Sammie away from that. I really hope we can find a sanctuary here in reality as well as what its name implies."
"We'll do our best to see to it. Sammie, there's someone else who is anxious to meet you. Our veterinarian, Dr. Whitmeyer. He's working on a wounded bobcat over in the medical building right now so you'll have to see him later."
"How did it get hurt?"
"Someone shot it with an arrow." He shook his head, looking utterly disgusted.
"Is this the young lady who's supposed to be able to talk to animals?" A thin, wiry man with graying hair and a sun-weathered face had entered silently while they were talking.
Samantha stood up immediately. "I guess that's me, sir," she said politely.
"Speak of the devil," Tom intoned. "This is Dr. Whitmeyer, himself."
The veterinarian scrutinized Samantha with bright, beady eyes of such a deep brown color that they appeared almost black. "Hmm. You don't look much like the images I've seen of you."
Everyone laughed. A puzzled look appeared on the veterinarian's face. "Did I say something funny?"
"It's just that Tom mentioned the same thing," Elaine explained. "We sort of traveled in disguise to keep Sammie from being recognized and bothered, Doctor Whitmeyer."
He waved a hand negligently. "Ah, forget the doctor business. Just call me Whit. Like our esteemed Director, I don't care for either formality or my first name."
"I'm Elaine Douglas and this is my daughter, Samantha. To her friends she's Sammie," Elaine said.
"Alright, Sammie, I've heard the same thing everyone else in the universe has. You're supposed to be able to talk to animals. Can you?"
"Anyone can talk to animals. The problem is getting them to listen to you."
Whit burst out laughing and clutched at his chest. "Ouch! You twanged me a good one. Now that you're here, how would you like to go to work?"
"Right now?"
He shrugged. "If you're not too tired from your trip. I've got a bobcat with an arrow through its back leg. It's in a cage right now but I need to remove it without hurting it even more and it's not partial to the idea. Whoever put him in there caused the arrow to mangle the wound pretty badly."