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Never in her life had veterinarian Kendra Shaw been able to turn away from an animal in need. This time wasn’t any different. After the phone call, she’d dropped everything, rearranged her schedule for the afternoon, and jumped into her truck to go pick up the eagle.
Usually, people brought the injured wild animals and birds into the Shaw Wildlife Center themselves. Occasionally, she had to go out and get them. Most of the time the pickups were animals people were afraid to touch for fear of rabies, like raccoons, skunks, or foxes. Every once in a while, she’d receive an oddball call about a baby black bear or orphaned coyote pup.
A bald eagle wasn’t something she treated often, so she didn’t hesitate about offering to drive over herself for this one. She tried to think back. It had been at least a couple of years since she’d had an injured eagle come in for rehab. She hoped this one wasn’t hurt too badly. There would be hell to pay if she found out who shot him. Not to mention probable jail time and a huge fine as well. The phone number of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife was on her speed dial and she would be in contact with them the minute she returned to the clinic.
She downshifted the gears in the truck as the gravel road going up the side of the mountain grew steeper. Light sleet pelted the windshield. According to the weather report she had checked before heading out, a winter storm was due to blow in later.
She wasn’t concerned. If things went well and the eagle was cooperative, she would have plenty of time to get him safely into the heated carrier in the bed of the truck and head back to town before the roads became slick.
In any case, she hoped the cabin wasn’t too much further up the mountain. The male caller had given her very specific directions on how to get there, but she hadn’t expected it to be so far out in the middle of nowhere.
It had been at least ten miles since she’d seen another house. The gravel road had first turned to dirt then gradually narrowed to one lane barely big enough for her truck. Like most of the mountain roads in rural north Georgia, there weren’t any guardrails preventing cars from sliding off the side of the road with a single wrong move.
After carefully maneuvering the truck around a couple more tight switch-backs, she spotted the rustic log cabin tucked into a small clearing. She pulled up in front of the house and leaned over to grab her medical bag. Before getting out, she took a quick glance around the premises. She didn’t see a shed. Surely she didn’t miss it on the way up?
The oak front door swung open before she made it to the top step of the porch. A tall, burly man with a scraggly beard in a black leather jacket stepped outside to greet her.
“Thank you for coming in such a hurry, Dr. Shaw,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “I appreciate it. Come on inside.”
“Where’s the eagle?” she asked, suddenly feeling uneasy. It occurred to her that in her haste to rescue yet another animal, she had agreed to meet a strange man in an isolated cabin. Miles and miles from anyone. Smart move, Kendra, she berated herself. “Is he still alive?” she asked.
“Yeah, he’s okay. Let’s go in by the fire and warm up a minute. I’ll tell you how I found him,” the man replied, motioning for her to walk through the door in front of him.
Kendra smiled politely and tried not to show her irritation or unease. As a general rule, the Good Samaritans who found injured animals always wanted to tell her the whole story about the animal before they handed it over. They seemed to feel the need to tell her the tiniest details of everything they’d done for the animal so far as well as all the research they’d found on the Internet. When every minute counted to save an animal’s life, it could be a tad bit annoying at times. She always tried her best to be patient though, knowing their hearts were in the right place.
“It’s probably better if you take me straight to him,” she said firmly. “There’s a storm blowing in and the sooner I can safely transport him back to my clinic, the sooner I can take care of his injuries and hopefully save his wing. You can call me later to check on him if you like. I’ll give you my cell phone number. I don’t mind if you do.”
“Alright,” he said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind them. “Let me get my gloves.”
Kendra took two steps inside the small cabin and stopped dead in her tracks. “What the hell is going on here?”