Page 45 of Wild Heart

Olivia looked up then, a rare twinkle in her eye. "He’s blossoming here, Nat. Like I always knew he could. He’s finally standing in his own story, not one written by someone else."

Natalie nodded. "I’ve seen it."

They shifted focus to grant proposals, combing through the fine print of eligibility requirements. One in particular caught Natalie’s attention, an eco-tourism and environmental education grant for rural nonprofits.

“We could use this,” she said, tapping the margin. “Upgrade the aviary and build a proper education space with projection and visitor seating. Maybe even house long-term staff onsite.”

Olivia narrowed her eyes. "You up for presenting this at the next regional conservation meeting?"

Natalie blinked. "Me?"

"You’re the professional. They trust you. And besides, I want the next generation of sanctuary leaders to step up. That means you."

That evening, Natalie shared the news with Mason. They sat outside the bunkhouse porch, shoulders touching, their legs brushing beneath the shared blanket.

"I don’t know if I’m ready to speak in front of a hundred conservationists," she admitted.

He kissed her temple. "You carried a wounded mountain lion cub out of a gunshot-patrolled forest. You’re ready for anything."

The following week passed in a blur of preparations. Mason updated infrastructure diagrams for Olivia’s expansion proposals. Davey finalized internship curriculum and drafted an interactive sanctuary app idea. Natalie practiced her presentation late into the night.

At the conservation meeting, she stood at the podium with a slide deck, a voice that only trembled once, and a story full of grit, healing, and purpose.

When she finished, the room erupted into applause.

Two representatives approached her before she could return to her seat.

“We’d like to sponsor a field trip program through your sanctuary,” one said. “And I think we can match your grant ask. We need places like yours.”

Natalie blinked, overwhelmed. “Thank you.”

When she called Mason with the news, he whooped so loudly she had to hold the phone away from her ear.

Back at the sanctuary, Olivia watched Davey lead a class of local teens through the fox enclosure, describing behavioral rehabilitation protocols with clarity and poise.

She turned to Natalie with a quiet smile. “You know what this feels like?”

Natalie tilted her head.

“Momentum.”

And it did. Like forward motion. Like strength. Like a sanctuary becoming more than just a refuge. It was becoming a legacy.

19

It was nearly dusk when Davey found Olivia sitting on the porch of the lodge, her eyes following the slow sway of the trees in the breeze. The warmth of the day had faded, leaving behind a hush that fell over the sanctuary like a blanket. In her lap was a folder of donor correspondence, but she wasn’t reading. She was still.

“Hey,” Davey said softly, stepping onto the porch.

She turned toward him with a tired smile. “Hey, yourself. Done wrangling squirrels?”

“They finally stopped trying to escape,” he said, dragging a chair closer. “I think they’re starting to trust me.”

Olivia chuckled. “That’s the hardest part.”

There was a beat of silence. Davey cleared his throat. “Can I ask you something?”

Olivia’s eyes flicked to his, carefully guarded.

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