Part 5
By sunrise, two neighbors were standing at the end of Walt’s driveway.
They did not arrive with weapons or threats. They came frightened, which was more difficult to dismiss.
One had grandchildren who played near the lake. The other kept chickens and had been told an adult bobcat was loose inside Walt’s house.
Walt showed them the DNR notice posted on the workshop door.
“The animals are behind two locked barriers,” he explained. “A licensed rehabilitator is responsible for them, and conservation officers inspect the site.”
“Why here?” one neighbor asked.
“Because the road was closed when they needed treatment. They’ll be moved as soon as it’s safe.”
The men left unconvinced but calmer.
Rebecca arrived shortly after them for an unannounced inspection requested by the regional DNR office. Nate came with her. They checked every lock, measured the distance between barriers, reviewed Walt’s logs, and found no violations.
“The complaint doesn’t change the animals’ status,” Nate said. “But it creates attention we don’t need.”
Walt showed him the photograph of Cal’s truck.
“Red cable is sold in every farm-supply store,” Nate said. “It’s useful, but it isn’t proof.”
“You found his tracks?”
“We found snowmobile tracks. We also recovered a state trail camera from a research plot near the den. I’m waiting on the card.”
Rebecca examined the mother through the barrier. Her temperature was normal. The wound on her hind leg had begun to close, and both kittens had gained weight.
Scout moved with only a slight hesitation.
“The family can go to my outdoor enclosure next week,” Rebecca said. “After that, they’ll need eight to ten weeks before release.”
Walt had expected relief. Instead, he felt the coming emptiness of the workshop.
A car door slammed outside.
Erin entered without knocking.
She still wore the black coat she used for Chicago winters, though the day had warmed into the forties. Her hair was pulled back, and fatigue had darkened the skin beneath her eyes.
Walt stared at her. “How did you get here?”
“I flew to Duluth and rented a car.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“You stopped answering.”
Her eyes moved over him: the unshaven face, the loose waistband, the bottle of cardiac medication beside a stack of wildlife charts.
“This is worse than I thought.”
“I’m fine.”
Nate and Rebecca exchanged a glance. Rebecca quietly led him outside, leaving father and daughter alone.
Erin did not ask to see the bobcats. She read the care plan, checked the permit, and studied the monitor long enough to understand that the animals were contained.
Then she turned to Walt.
“You went onto bad ice.”
He looked at the floor. “Who told you?”
“Rebecca, after I called every veterinary clinic within fifty miles of Ely.”
“It was a short crossing.”
“You had chest pain.”
“I was evaluated.”
“After you dragged a sedated predator across a lake.”
“She wasn’t sedated yet.”
Erin closed her eyes.
“That correction does not help.”
Walt tried to move past her. “You came all this way. Let me make coffee.”
She blocked him.
“No. You don’t get to turn this into hospitality.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to admit that you did it again.”
“Did what?”
“Found something desperate enough to need you more than I was allowed to.”
Walt’s anger rose because the words were close to something he had spent years avoiding.
“Those animals would have died.”
“And Mom did die.”
“June told me to go.”
“I know.”
Erin’s voice broke.
“I was there when she told you. She could barely breathe, and she was still protecting you from having to sit beside a person you couldn’t save.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“It is exactly what happened. A call came in, and suddenly there was a problem with tools and protocols and people who would thank you if they lived. Mom’s cancer didn’t give you any of that.”
Walt turned toward the window.
“I came home as fast as I could.”
“Forty minutes too late.”
The silence between them was no longer defensive. It was the silence of a wound finally uncovered.
Erin wiped her face angrily.
“I don’t hate you for going. I hate that you never let me tell you what it cost. You turned your guilt into a wall and called it duty.”
Walt looked at the monitor. The mother bobcat lay curled around her kittens, while Scout rested a short distance away.
“I stayed here because this was June’s home.”
“You stayed because emergencies make you indispensable. Being my father doesn’t.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Then why do I have to buy airline tickets and schedule doctors just to get you to answer me?”
Pressure gathered behind Walt’s breastbone.
He pressed a fist against his chest and waited for it to pass.
Erin saw.
“Where’s your nitroglycerin?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Where is it?”
He reached into his pocket and opened the small bottle.
It was empty.
Erin took out her phone. “Don’t,” Walt said. She dialed 911. For the first time since the bobcats arrived, the ambulance came for the man who had pulled them out of the woods…
To read the rest of the story – CLICK the NEXT button 👇👇👇