Chapter 12 #2
Then again, that might just be part of his game.
Cats were sneaky, and while he’d done something showy here, in buying a whole freaking island, he was also secretive enough to keep all but specifically invited guests from coming here.
He wasn’t trying to rebuild his Clan on the mainland, where they would have to deal with the human world every day.
No, he’d built a sanctuary where jaguars could be jaguars, in peace and with a high expectation of privacy.
Knowing that, and having met Mark and his mate, Tracy was growing a lot more curious to see the rest of the island—the inner sanctum Shelly had hinted at when describing her architectural designs. It sure sounded a lot different than the public facade presented by the old-style mansion.
By the time the party ended, after a light buffet had been served and consumed and the smaller children began to feel sleepy, Tracy was ready to see Hank’s home.
She knew he’d been wanting to show her his place, and she had agreed already to go there after the party.
Talking about the island and the different amenities already in place for families with children, Tracy was even more intrigued.
They left the mansion together, Hank carrying a sleepy Emma in his arms. Tracy had brought along a bag with essentials but had opted to leave their suitcases in the suite they’d been given in the mansion.
Still, she always brought an extra set of clothing with her for Emma.
If she shifted and destroyed what she was wearing, it was always good to have a backup.
Throwing an extra set of underwear in the bag for herself was something she didn’t want to think too much about.
Perhaps she was already planning to stay the night in her subconscious mind.
Maybe she just wanted to be prepared for anything.
Either way, she wasn’t going to examine her motives too closely.
They took an all-terrain vehicle with big tires as far as they could, but all Tracy saw was jungle.
The leafy canopy hid the trail from above, she realized, as the light grew dim.
It wasn’t quite sundown in this part of the world yet, but it was coming on fast. Faster, under the cover of the giant trees all around.
“We have to walk from here,” Hank told Tracy as he parked the vehicle under a tree.
She noted several other similar vehicles parked all around, camouflaged by the greenery. They had driven steadily higher, but with all the foliage, she hadn’t really been able to get a sense of where they were in relation to the long-dormant volcano that was at the core of the island.
There were a few faint trails leading from the parking area that only her sharp wolf senses allowed her to pick out. These cats were crafty. They weren’t blazing any trails that could be seen from the air or easily followed even on the ground.
“You all use different paths to get to your territory?” Tracy asked, trying to figure out how they worked it.
“We all have a slice of territory to call our own,” Hank told her gently. “Mark worked it out so each of us have our own home territory. It helps settle our cats to have a defined area to patrol.”
“Each wolf family has their own small territory around their homes, but it sounds like you’re talking about something a lot bigger than a backyard,” Tracy commented.
Hank chuckled. “Wolves like togetherness from what I’ve observed.
We’re a bit different. We each need our own space.
Not just a house or a yard, but a defined area that is ours alone.
” He guided her through the undergrowth, politely holding back an overhanging limb for her as she carried Emma in her arms. “There’s a reason your people gather in Packs and we prefer a Clan structure.
We’re not quite as social as wolves, but we’re learning to peacefully coexist here.
Mark’s making it happen, and we’re all dedicated to the project, because we’ve lost so many of our kind by being stubborn lone operators. We’re rebuilding. Together.”
Tracy knew a bit of the history of the decline of the jaguar people.
Her father had talked to her about what he knew while Hank was in Arizona.
Her heart went out to all those lone jaguar families who had failed to defend their jungle homes from gangs of humans with guns and a thirst for drug dollars.
It was a tragedy, but she was impressed all over again at the way Mark had rallied his remaining people to not only survive, but thrive, even if they had to adapt to a new way of living to do it.
“See this?” Hank paused by a large tree and pointed to a set of claw marks.
“This is my mark,” he told her. “To us, the claw marks denote each jaguar’s territory.
We choose our marks when we come of age.
In my case, it’s four stripes, about four inches long.
Of course, each set of claws makes a slightly different mark, and we all know each other’s prints, even without the chosen mark, but this is the official seal, if you will.
The mark of my boundary line. Once we pass this point, we’re in my territory. ”
“I’m guessing the depth of the marks and the pressure used is something you can differentiate as well?” Tracy asked, running her finger alongside the outermost gouge. She was familiar with paw prints and claw marks, but her people didn’t use them as extensively as the cats seemed to do.
Hank smiled at her. “You bet,” he replied.
“Jaguars are creatures of subtlety. It’s good you realize that since you’re raising one.
You might have to read between the lines with Emma once she gets older and starts growing into her jaguar spirit.
She won’t always tell you what’s wrong. Jaguar parents often complain of having to be detectives to figure out what’s bugging their kids sometimes.
But it’s a sort of game—even though the stakes are high—and we cats love games, as much as we love our children. Cats love figuring out puzzles.”
“Wolves are pretty good at puzzles too,” Tracy claimed, smiling as they moved on.
She stepped over the invisible boundary into his territory, feeling as if she’d just taken a step into her future.
One she might live to regret, but hoped and prayed would turn out all right for both her and her daughter.
“That’s good,” Hank told her, his demeanor changing now that they were in his territory.
He seemed to examine every tree, every leaf, pride showing in his expression, but also alertness.
“Nobody on the island would breach my territory without express invitation,” he told her as they walked deeper into the forest. “Except maybe Abuela. She goes where she wants, and something tells me she’s been through here recently.
” A sort of puzzled smile lit his face as they moved forward.
“Whose grandmother is she?” Tracy asked, knowing the word was Spanish for grandmother.
“Nick’s, actually, but she’s more or less the entire Clan’s granny and guardian angel rolled into one. She’s a wise woman. She counsels us all when we need it, and she’s always there if we need to talk. She’s a treasure the entire Clan cherishes.”
“I can tell. Whenever she’s mentioned, it’s with love,” Tracy observed. She liked that this Clan of loners had a communal grandmother to nurture them.
“There were some little cats through here too, with her,” Hank said, pointing to little human footprints in a bare spot of dirt. Tiny sneakers with distinctive treads. More than one pair. “What in the world was she doing up here with the kids?”
They walked a little farther, and suddenly, the dense undergrowth opened into a small clearing where a structure was nestled against the side of the curved wall of the crater.
It was hidden from above by the rock and the towering trees that had been left in strategic places.
The structure was brown and green, made of materials that blended into the surroundings beautifully.
And the front door was festooned with flowers.
Somehow, Tracy didn’t think Hank had planted those on his own.
“I think you have your answer as to what Abuela and the children were doing up here. Unless you’re a fan of purple and pink pansies.
” Tracy chuckled at the haphazardly planted flowers.
She could just picture enthusiastic little hands patting the soil in the pots that had been put on either side of the doorway.
“That’s to welcome you and Emma,” Hank said, clearing his throat. “I certainly never planted any flowers around my house.
“That’s so sweet,” Tracy said, letting Emma down so she could take a closer look at the colorful display. Tracy stood and took a good look at the structure. “It’s a lovely house, Hank.”
“Thanks.” Was he blushing? He certainly seemed subdued for a man who usually shone so bright. “Shelly designed it,” he went on, but she suspected there was more to the construction that he wasn’t telling.
“You helped, didn’t you?” she prodded, wanting to know more.
“I came up with some of the ideas, and I did a lot of the labor myself, in between assignments. We changed a few things from the original design as we were working, but Shelly approved everything,” he was quick to point out.
“It’s all safe and structurally sound. We have a building team here on the island that has lots of experience from the mainland.
They know their trades inside and out, and they work on, or supervise, every structure we put up, so we’re sure everything we build is completely safe. ”
“That’s impressive,” she told him, wanting to reassure him that she wasn’t questioning his abilities or the safety of his home.
“My dad does something similar, but of course, we all help each other with everything anyway. If something needs repair or building from the ground up, all the folks who have experience always chip in, so there’s no question things get done the right way. ”