Wild Action (4 page)

“Wolves?” he said anxiously. “You didn’t tell me we had wolves.”

“We don’t. Those are the dogs. We took them because they looked so much like gray wolves, even as pups, but they’re actually half husky and half malamute.

“They’re perfectly safe. They don’t even bother the rabbits,” she added, giving him an amused glance as she pulled the van to a stop. “Their names are Harpo, Chico, Groucho and Zeppo. Collectively, of course, we refer to them as the Marx brothers.”

And Uncle Gus, Nick remembered someone once mentioning, had been a huge Marx brothers fan.

“I said
we,
didn’t I?” Carly murmured with a sad little smile. “I wonder how long it’ll take before I stop doing that.”

She got out of the van and hugged each of the dogs in turn. Then they rushed around to the passenger’s side and stood eyeing Nick through the window— drooling as if they were looking at lunch.

Checking them out from up close, he wondered if Carly was certain they weren’t at least
part
wolf. They were one hell of a size, and he’d never seen any other dogs with those sinister-looking yellow eyes.

Telling himself they weren’t a whole lot bigger than the German shepherds the police used, he opened his door and climbed out—the heat and humidity hitting him hard.

It had been hot in Alberta, but that was a dry heat. Ontario was at least as hot and sixty times more humid.

He cautiously extended his hand and let the dogs sniff it. Despite their appearance, they seemed friendly enough, so he risked taking his eyes off them long enough to get his suitcase and jacket from the back.

“I thought Dylan might still be here, but his truck’s gone,” Carly said. “The high school kid who’s been helping out,” she explained.

Nick nodded, then gestured toward the wooden building with the wired-in open area that stood maybe sixty yards away. “That’s the new aviary you mentioned?”

“Uh-huh. Attila’s field is at the bottom of the hill beside the house, and the little barn you can see is where we feed the rabbits and stable the ponies. But let’s save the grand tour until after you unpack and
change. And then maybe you’d like a drink. There’s some Scotch that Gus used to say was smooth as silk.”

Glancing at his watch, Nick discovered it was only four-thirty. He’d been up for so long it seemed later. “It’s a little early for something as strong as Scotch,” he said, “but a cold beer would go down fine.”

They’d just started for the porch when a tremendous roar rattled his eardrums. He stopped dead, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Carly and the dogs continued along as if they were deaf.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded, hurrying to catch up.

“What was what?”

“That noise.”

“Oh, it was just Attila welcoming us home. He must have smelled us.”

“From this distance?”

Carly gave him another amused look. “Bears have an incredible sense of smell. They can scent things for miles. But he won’t mind if we don’t say hello until later.”

Nick looked in the direction of the hill, half surprised to see the ground wasn’t vibrating. The last time he’d heard anything that loud he’d been in Costa Rica, watching the Arenal Volcano spew fire and boulders—and that had made him a little nervous, too.

Following Carly the rest of the way to the house, he did his best to relax. After all, she’d told him she was perfectly fine with the bear, so there was no reason she’d need any help with it

He just wished he didn’t have the sense there was something she
hadn’t
told him.

C
ARLY CHANGED INTO SHORTS
, then went back downstairs and chatted with Crackers while she made a jug of iced tea. The parrot loved company and was papertrained. So, years ago, Gus had built a big solariumtype addition to the kitchen, and Crackers was pretty good about staying in it.

“Treat!” he demanded as she stirred the tea.

She cut him a wedge of apple, then poured herself a glass of tea and put the jug into the fridge, lingering in front of the open door and thinking how heavenly the coolness felt

The house was too old to have central air, and Gus hadn’t liked air-conditioning anyway. He’d always said that even window units were for wimps, so she’d learned to live with the hot, muggy spell that inevitably settled in during July. But she’d far rather live without it.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, she dug a beer from the back of the fridge and reluctantly closed the door. When she turned, Nick was standing in the kitchen eyeing Crackers.

“Is he usually out of his cage?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. He really hates being in it during the day. But he stays in it at night. I think he worries that one of the cats might try a sneak attack while he’s asleep.”

“Would they?”

“I doubt it. And if they did, they’d regret it. Big macaws have incredibly strong beaks. He could amputate a man’s hand. But he wouldn’t,” she added quickly. “He loves people.”

Nick nodded, although he didn’t look entirely convinced. Then he glanced at the beer she’d forgotten she was holding. “That looks good.”

“And you look like a cowboy,” she said, handing him the bottle. “You also look even more like Gus. He always wore jeans and boots.”

“Must be one of those things that run in families." Nick twisted the top off his beer and took a long, slow drink.

Watching him, Carly felt an unexpected twinge of attraction. Oh, she’d realized earlier what a good-looking man he was. But it had been an in-the-abstract kind of awareness, because he hadn’t struck her as her type.

Not that she exactly
had
a type. As she’d told him earlier, living out here meant her social life had never been exactly hectic. And there’d been nothing about any of the few men she
had
gone with over the years that had made her think they were Mr. Right.

When Nick lowered the bottle, she reached for her glass of tea and said, “Let’s sit outside. Maybe there’ll be a breeze.”

She gestured him to precede her, letting her thoughts drift back to where they’d been. Whatever her type was, Nick Montgomery wasn’t it. His hair was far too short for her taste, and in his suit he’d seemed
too…civilized
was the word that came to mind.

Although now, she had to admit, with those hiphugging jeans and his T-shirt clinging to every muscle, that wasn’t true anymore. But Nick was her temporary business partner, and she’d be a fool to even think of him in any other light

He’d only be here for six weeks, tops, then he’d be heading back out West Or maybe he’d be gone a lot sooner. For all she knew, he might be out of here
ten minutes after she told him about the problem with Attila.

She followed him outside and they sat on the porch in silence for a minute—until one of the cats stalked by to check out the company.

“His name’s Blue, and he’s been in quite a few commercials,” she offered. “That’s mostly what Wild Action has done until now. Commercials, some work for television, the occasional documentary and one Canadian feature film that opened and closed the same week. I don’t think they even bothered making it into a video.”

“So
Two for Trouble really is your…our
big chance.”

She nodded, aware that this was the perfect time to speak up—while he was contemplating how important the movie was to them. All she had to do was think of the right words.

When Carly lapsed into silence, Nick sat casually looking in her direction and not letting himself stare at her long, tanned legs. It was tough not to, though. They were such great legs they’d stop traffic if she ever walked down a city street in those shorts. And as for that little sleeveless blouse…

Earlier, she’d looked the picture of innocence. And she even
smelled
innocent—like prairie wildflowers. But in that outfit she looked sexy as hell. And it had him imagining all sorts of things that had nothing even remotely to do with their business partnership.

Shifting his gaze from her, he told himself he’d have to be careful while he was here. She had an easy manner he found appealing. And when you added that to the way she looked…Well, he’d just better watch himself.

He’d had his share of relationships with women, but none of them had ever felt as if they might last forever. And he sure didn’t want to find himself in one that
did
feel right when the time and place were entirely wrong.

His life plans didn’t include either animal actors or rural Ontario. All he wanted was enough money to go back home to Edmonton and set up his agency.

“Nick?”

When he glanced at Carly again there was a tiny drop of perspiration on her throat, trickling ever so slowly toward the V of her neckline. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep from following it with his eyes.

Finally, it disappeared beneath her blouse, but by then he was following it with his imagination.

“Nick, there’s something we have to talk about.”

He looked up quickly, feeling like the proverbial kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“We have a bit of a problem with Attila.”

Aha! His imagination instantly shut down and he switched into cop alert. He’d
known
there was something she’d been holding back about that bear, and her expression told him it was more than a
bit
of a problem.

“Did I mention that he’s the star of
Two for Trouble?
The animal star, I mean?”

“No, I think you just said he was in it.”

“Oh. Well, he is. The star, I mean.”

Nick waited for her to go on, doing his best to hide his annoyance. But he’d bet that she’d been intentionally avoiding talking about the bear—that she’d been waiting until she got her newfound partner out
here, away from civilization, before she hit him with whatever this problem was.

“You see,” she finally continued, “the boys’ encounter with Attila is a really pivotal scene in the movie. And there’ll be a lot of earlier shots of him— foreshadowing the encounter.”

“I see. And the problem is…?” he asked, bringing her back to the important issue.

“Well, Attila hasn’t been himself lately. I know he misses Gus, but from our point of view…The problem is that he’s taken to only doing what I tell him when he feels like it.”

“Because he’s in mourning? That’s bear behavior?”

“Well, I’m sure missing Gus is at least part of it.”

Nick uneasily thought back to something she’d told him in Brown’s office—that if Jay Wall wasn’t pleased with their animals, the agency’s name would be mud.

“If missing Gus is only part of the problem,” he said, picking up on her last words, “what’s the other part?”

“Well, Attila always worked better for Gus than he did for me. So I suspect he considers me just a backup trainer. And now he’s acting like a child who’s trying to see just how much he can get away with.”

“But if he worked better for Gus, then the two of you must have done things differently. Why don’t you try doing everything exactly the way he did?”

“I already do. We always used the same tone and commands and hand signals. You have to with animals or they get confused. So there’s got to be some
thing else involved. Maybe something as simple as the fact that Gus was a lot bigger than me.”

Nick eyed her, doubting she’d weigh a hundred and fifteen pounds sopping wet.

“Or maybe it’s that bears find a deeper male voice more authoritative.”

“That’s a fact?”

“No, it’s just a possibility. Nick, the only real facts I have are that Attila responded better to Gus and that right now I can’t count on him to listen. So I can’t help thinking…”

Carly paused, then the rest of her words came rushing out all at once. “It would make a lot of sense to try another man working with Attila. Ideally, one who resembles Gus. And if you wore some of Gus’s clothes, his scent would even be mingled with yours.”

Nick simply stared at her, the words
you
and
yours
flashing like neon signs in front of his eyes.

She gave him a weak smile.

“Oh, no,” he said at last. “Absolutely, unequivocably no.
You
are the one who bottle-raised that bear.
You
are the one who figures he’s a pet.
You
are the animal expert here.

“
I
, on the other hand, don’t know a damn thing about bears except that they can kill people. Plus, I’m a complete stranger to him—one he outweighs by more than four hundred pounds. I’d have to be out of my tree to try working with him.”

Carly gazed at her sandals for a long minute, then finally shrugged. “I didn’t really think you’d like the idea.”

Nick resisted the urge to tell her she was the queen of understatement.

“I just…” She shrugged again, looking at him this time. “I guess it was a dumb suggestion, even though he really
wouldn’t
hurt you. We’ve done all kinds of shoots with him, and he’s never tried to harm anyone. And I’m so worried that if I can’t make him cooperate for Jay, and the agency ends up going down the tubes because of it…Well, I’m worried about what would happen to the animals if I couldn’t keep things going. Especially to Attila. It would be incredibly hard to find him a good home.”

Nick shoved himself out of his chair and began pacing the porch, thinking he was insane to even consider her idea. But if Attila didn’t perform, Jay Wall would bad-mouth them. And if that led to the agency going bust, there’d be no income to pay the mortgage—which would mean they’d lose the property, as well.

Still, he’d rather face a man pointing a .350 Magnum at him than get within mauling range of a bear.

“Why don’t we give Attila a little more time,” he finally suggested. “Maybe he’ll come around.”

“Or maybe he won’t.”

Turning away from Carly, Nick stared out across the clearing. He had no job and not much money. And if they blew this chance to establish a Hollywood connection, he’d probably have no inheritance to speak of, either.

But at least he’d still be alive, rather than—quite possibly—bear breakfast. That was certainly an important point to consider.

He weighed the issue for another minute, then took a deep breath and said, “You’re
positive
he’s never tried to harm anyone?”