Free Broken Wings by Alexandrea Weis

entrance.
    Daniel followed her out of the barn and toward a large pile of boxes, dead tree limbs, discarded nesting hay, and old newspapers set up close to the edge of the cleared property.
    As Pamela stepped in front of the burn pile, Daniel noticed two squirrels running from the nearby brush to her side. He stopped and watched as Pamela bent over to speak to the squirrels. The animals darted about her feet, and around some of the boxes gathered on the ground, before heading back to the brush.
    Daniel came up to her side and tossed the boxes in his arms on top of the mound of rubbish. “Does that usually happen?” he asked.
    Pamela nodded. “Two of my male squirrels from last season, Moe and Larry. They hang out in the trees on this side of the clearing and sometimes come to see me. When I am walking about the property I usually have a few of the animals I have rehabbed running up to me looking for treats or just to visit.”
    “I thought they were supposed to be wild. Won’t interacting with you teach them not to be afraid of people?” he asked as he picked up the boxes scattered about his feet.
    “No, they’re wild. They won’t go to strangers. I’m family,” Pamela replied as she tossed the last of the boxes on to the burn pile. “Thanks for helping me,” she stated, turning to him.
    “I’ll bet that hurt,” he said, wiping his hands together.
    She knitted her brows. “What are you talking about?”
    “You hate having people help you. Must be hard enough for you to admit that you need help, let alone thank someone for helping you.”
    “I was being polite,” she admitted, raising her voice just a bit.
    He laughed. “Now you’re getting defensive.”
    She opened her mouth to respond to his accusation but decided against it. “I have baby squirrels to feed,” she informed him and turned away, heading back toward the house.
    “Can I help?” Daniel asked as he followed her.
    Pamela stopped walking and faced him. “I thought you were going to work on the roof.” She paused and watched as his expression became somber. “I didn’t realize. I mean you want to feed the babies?”
    His dark mood instantly lifted and he gave her a warm smile that seemed to soften the coldness in his eyes. “Yes, I know you want me to get started on the roof but…”
    “No, it’s not about the roof. I’m just surprised that you want to feed the babies again. Most people, especially men, aren’t very interested in helping feed babies. They think it’s…” she tried to find the right word.
    “A woman’s job,” Daniel said, filling in the blank.
    She nodded.
    He looked sheepishly at the ground. “Well, I don’t think that. I really enjoyed handling the little flea-infested fuzz balls.”
    Pamela could not help but laugh at him. “Well, come on then. I’ll even show you how to mix their formula.”
    Back at the house, Pamela taught Daniel how to mix powdered formula with water and yogurt in a blender.
    “The yogurt aids their digestion and adds a little thickness to the formula,” she said, removing the formula from the blender and pouring some of it into two small bowls. She then took the bowls to the microwave.
    “Where do you get your formula?” he asked, watching her place small nipples on the end of some syringes.
    “Every rehabber has a different theory about formula. A lot of rehabbers go with the company I use because they don’t have as many chemicals in their formula. Some buy another brand and some make their own out of milk. If you want to start a fist fight among rehabbers, bring up which is the best formula to use for babies.” She took the warmed formula out of the microwave and carried the bowls over to the kitchen table.
    She sat in a chair next to the table as Daniel took a seat across from her. She handed him a syringe and a bowl of formula.
    “Grab a container and get to it,” she ordered as she waved her hand at the pile of containers between them.
    Daniel eagerly lifted the first