Page 36 of Wild Heart

Natalie had always believed in the power of doing, of proving her worth through effort and resilience. Mason, more than anyone, understood that language. It was why they worked so well in tandem. They didn’t need fanfare or ceremony. They just needed each other.

The open house weekend arrived like a stormfront, fast and full of energy. By Friday afternoon, the sanctuary had been transformed. Hand-painted signs welcomed visitors at the gates. Volunteers set up booths for educational displays, animal tracking games, and interactive rescuedemonstrations. Kids in matching T-shirts walked goats along the lower field, while others offered face painting in the barn.

Olivia, now walking longer distances with her cane and occasionally without it, supervised everything with hawk-like focus and maternal pride. Her confidence had returned with a vengeance, and no one dared cross her path with half a plan or a hesitant tone.

“Keep the media booth by the entry path,” she told Davey. “If they catch our story before the crowd, they’ll write from the heart, not the headline.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, scribbling furiously on his clipboard.

Natalie and Mason took the lead on school outreach. By Saturday morning, they were standing in the main room of the local elementary school, surrounded by twenty-five wide-eyed fourth graders and a projector that occasionally made whirring noises like it was going to explode.

“This,” Natalie said, pointing to a photo of a young, injured bobcat, “is Meadow. She was hit by a car last year near the edge of our sanctuary. She lost her mother, had a broken paw, and was dangerously underweight.”

One girl raised her hand. “Did she make it?”

Natalie smiled. “She did. It took three months of care and learning how to trust again, but she’s back in the wild now. She lives near the east ridge. And she’s thriving.”

The kids erupted in applause.

Mason took over from there, talking about animal tracking and how they monitored released wildlife.

“You mean, like... spy gear?” one boy asked, eyes wide.

Mason chuckled. “Kind of. Except instead of catching bad guys, we’re making sure the good guys, our wildlife, stay safe.”

By the end of the hour, they had two teachers requestingsanctuary field trips and half a dozen kids asking how they could volunteer.

“It’s working,” Natalie whispered to Mason as they packed up.

He nodded. “They’re starting to see the truth of us.”

That night, back at the sanctuary, after the last visitor had gone and the booths were stacked neatly by the tool shed, Natalie and Mason walked the long path by the wolf pens, hands clasped.

“I talked to one of the parents today,” Natalie said. “She used to be one of the loudest voices against us. Thought we were going to bring predators into her backyard. Today, she thanked me. Said her daughter wants to be a vet now.”

Mason’s grip tightened slightly. “It’s happening. The tide’s turning.”

They stopped near the viewing platform, where the moon lit the treetops, and the smell of pine drifted up like a promise.

Natalie looked up at him, something hesitant in her eyes. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you ever have kids?”

The question hung between them.

Mason looked away, jaw working.

“I mean, you’re so good with Davey. With the interns. You’d be an incredible father.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, silent for a moment too long. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than she’d expected.

"There was a time..." he began, then stopped, searching the shadows for words. "There was someone. A long time ago. We weren’t married, but it was serious. She got pregnant. We were both scared. I told myself I was ready, but the truth is... I didn’t know how to be ready."

Natalie listened, her eyes not leaving his. He shifted his weight slightly, as though the memory was a coat too heavy to keep wearing.

"We lost the baby," he said. "And after that, everything fell apart. She needed something I couldn’t give. I didn’t know how to grieve properly. I didn’t know how to stay."

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