Page 10
Story: Wild Heart
The hospital waiting room smelled like antiseptic and machine coffee, the air stale with anxiety.
Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, reflecting too brightly on white walls and cheap plastic chairs.
Natalie sat between Mason and Davey, a Styrofoam cup of lukewarm tea clenched in her hands, her fingers raw from the cold of the mountain. It had been hours.
They'd scrubbed the dirt and blood from their clothes in the ER’s family restroom, borrowed scratchy secondhand sweats and hoodies from a nurse who took one look at them and said nothing.
Davey had barely spoken since they arrived.
He sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped, eyes vacant.
Natalie kept glancing at him, aching to say something comforting, but knowing he wasn’t ready to hear it yet.
Across from them, Mason paced slowly by the vending machines, arms crossed tightly, jaw locked.
Finally, the surgeon entered, a tall woman in her late fifties with silver-streaked cropped hair.
Her scrubs were stained with iodine, her voice calm and clipped.
"She’s stable," she said. "Ms. Hayes sustained a compound fracture to her left femur, four fractured ribs, and a dislocated shoulder. We were able to successfully reset the joint and pin the femur. There was some soft tissue damage and internal bleeding, but no organ compromise."
Davey exhaled for what felt like the first time since the fall. "Will she walk again?" he asked, voice hoarse.
"Eventually. With extensive physical therapy. She’ll be immobilized for at least six weeks. Non-weight-bearing for longer. Pain management and wound monitoring will be crucial for the first two."
"Can we see her?" Natalie asked.
The surgeon nodded. "She’s in recovery now. Still under anesthesia. One of you can sit with her until she wakes."
"Go," Mason said quietly to Davey.
The boy hesitated, then nodded and stood, disappearing through the swinging doors behind the nurse. Natalie sagged back into her seat. Mason returned to sit beside her, the space between them pulsing with shared exhaustion.
"You okay?" he asked.
She let out a shaky breath. "I don’t know."
They sat in silence for a while. Every now and then a monitor beeped down the hall. The intercom called for someone in pediatrics. Rain still pattered lightly against the windows.
"You didn’t leave that wolf," she said finally.
Mason rubbed his palms together. "Couldn’t. He was scared. And alone."
She nodded slowly. "So was Olivia. So was Davey."
Mason turned to her. "So were you."
That hit harder than she expected. The truth of it echoed inside her chest like the crack of distant thunder.
"We need to reevaluate the trail protocols," Natalie said, her voice quiet but firm. "That descent was dangerous, even without the storm. We should have had an emergency back-up team. Better communication tools. We got lucky."
"You’re right," Mason said. He didn’t argue. Didn’t deflect. Just accepted it.
She looked at him. "That’s rare."
"What is?"
"Someone like you admitting that."
He gave a small smile. "Maybe I trust you now." The air between them shifted.
Davey returned an hour later, his eyes rimmed red but steadier.
"She woke up. She asked for coffee."
Natalie smiled. "Then she’s going to be just fine."
Mason clapped him gently on the back.
"She told me to stop moping and get back to work," Davey added. "Said the sanctuary won’t run itself."
Natalie rose. "She’s not wrong."
They left the hospital just after dawn. The storm had passed, but the sky was still heavy with low clouds, the streets slick and shining in the early light. When they arrived back at the sanctuary, the volunteers were already up
"You know," he said, "they kept the fire going the whole time we were gone. Fed every animal. Cleaned every stall. Didn’t even ask."
Natalie felt something warm rise in her chest. The sanctuary might have been worn, frayed at the edges. But its heart still beat strong. And so did theirs. Even after the fall. Even after the storm.
Everywhere looked almost peaceful in the soft morning light.
The rain had washed everything clean, leaving the leaves brighter, the air sweeter, and the sky a clearer blue than it had been in days.
Wildflowers nodded gently along the trail edge, and the wolf pens glimmered with fresh straw under the golden sun.
They had made it through the storm. Olivia had survived the fall. But the road ahead remained uncharted.
The sanctuary van pulled up slowly, its tires crunching on the gravel. Mason opened the back doors while Natalie stood on the porch of the main cabin, shielding her eyes against the sun. Davey came out behind her, nerves written in his every movement.
Inside the van, Olivia sat upright in a lightweight wheelchair, bundled in a soft blanket despite the warmth.
Her arm was in a sling, her left leg stiff and braced, elevated slightly.
Her face was pale, lips pressed tight against the pain, but her eyes sparkled when she saw a ‘welcome home’ sign still hanging from the gate.
"You guys are ridiculous," she murmured, though her voice cracked with emotion.
Mason helped guide her chair onto the portable ramp, and Davey took over as soon as her wheels touched the ground, gripping the handles tightly.
"We missed you," he said, his voice cracking.
Olivia reached back with her good hand, patting his arm. "It’s good to be missed."
The volunteers had gathered in the main clearing, giving respectful distance but shouting out welcomes and waving. One of the teenagers from the raptor team handed her a bouquet of handpicked wildflowers.
Natalie stood at the base of the porch steps, watching as Olivia was wheeled toward her, and gave her a wry smile.
"You look surprisingly dignified for someone not long out of surgery. "
"It’s the morphine," Olivia quipped. "Everything feels like a dream right now."
Inside, they had set up Olivia's recovery bed in the living area of the main lodge, close enough to keep her connected to everything, but private enough to offer rest. It had been Mason’s idea, and Natalie had seen how quietly, how efficiently the team had made it happen.
Once she was settled with pillows fluffed and water by the bed, Olivia looked around, taking in the little details: a small bookshelf stocked with her favorites, a framed photo of her and Davey by the fox enclosure, and a corkboard pinned with a rotating animal care schedule.
"You all didn’t waste any time, did you?"
"We weren’t sure how long you’d be out of commission," Natalie said gently.
"At least eight weeks," Olivia admitted. "And even then, I won’t be walking unassisted. Not for a while."
The room fell quiet.
Davey sat on the arm of a nearby chair, his jaw clenched. "We’ll manage. I can take on more. Mason said he’d teach me."
Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Mason’s teaching you? That’s either very promising or deeply concerning."
"It’s promising," Natalie said, suppressing a grin. "He’s good with him."
"That man talks to wolves more easily than humans," Olivia murmured.
There was a pause. Then Davey stood. "I’ll check on the hawks. Give you some space."
When he was gone, Olivia reached out and caught Natalie’s hand. Her grip was weaker than usual but still steady.
"Thank you. For everything."
Natalie sat beside her, emotions crowding her chest. "You don’t have to thank me. You saved me the moment I stepped onto this land."
"I saw you," Olivia said. "Out there in the storm. The way you moved, the way you took control. You’re meant to be here."
Natalie looked down. "I wasn’t sure at first."
"You are now?"
Natalie nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think I am."
Olivia settled back into her pillows. The room was warm with late sunlight, casting a soft glow over the wood-paneled walls.
Then Olivia sighed. A sound that came from deep inside. "There’s something I need to tell you."
Natalie leaned in.
"The sanctuary isn’t as secure as it looks. The grants I was counting on didn’t come through this year. One of our private donors pulled out last minute. And this hospital visit... the air evac, the surgery, the meds... it’s going to drain what’s left of our savings."
Natalie’s stomach dropped. "How bad is it?"
"Bad enough that if we don’t raise significant funds by fall, we may have to scale back. Close off parts of the sanctuary. Let some of the animals go. Maybe even sell the northern ridge."
Natalie was quiet, the importance of Olivia’s words settling heavily on her shoulders.
"Does Mason know?"
"Not yet. I wanted to get through the surgery first. But we can’t keep it quiet for long."
Natalie reached for her hand again. "Then we fight. We get creative. We find a way. Together."
Olivia closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. "You sound like someone I used to be."
Natalie squeezed her fingers gently. "Then maybe it’s time you become her again. "
They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the creaks and sounds of the sanctuary around them.
Olivia cleared her throat. "You know, there was a time I thought about selling the whole thing.
Years ago. When Davey left for school. When the winters got longer, and the donations got shorter.
But every time I thought about it, I saw one of the animals and remembered why we started this in the first place, and I wavered. "
Natalie tilted her head. "What stopped you then?"
"Hope. And pride. Probably a lot of stubbornness," Olivia said with a smile. "This place was built on more than just money and permits. It was built on second chances. For the animals. For the people who turn up here. For me."
"Then let’s make sure it stays that way."
Olivia looked at her, truly looked. "You’d really fight for this?"
"I already am."
A breath passed between them.
"I don’t want to lose it," Olivia whispered. "This place is my heartbeat."
"Then we protect it," Natalie said. "Piece by piece, dollar by dollar, we figure it out. And you’re not doing it alone anymore."
Outside, the sanctuary pulsed with quiet life. Birds called from the trees. Somewhere, a fox barked at the fading light.
And inside, two women bound by more than just shared history prepared to weather a different kind of storm.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10 (Reading here)
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41