Black Cat and the Accidental Angel (Black Cat Mysteries Book 3) (12 page)

Things were quiet the rest of the day. John didn’t share any of his ideas of how he planned to get out of this fix and Cindy was wise enough not to ask questions. She played with her dolls and read a book. In the afternoon, she plugged in a Disney movie.

Black Cat paced the floor, rushing to the window whenever a truck rumbled by on the road. The problems they faced swam through his head.
Impending foreclosure! Mr. Skimmer! Angel! Cindy!
Black Cat jumped at every noise, as nervous as a cat in a butcher shop on Pork Chop Tuesday. What could he do? His paws were tied.

In the late afternoon, the phone rang. Cindy looked up from the TV, and then clicked the mute button. Actors mouthing soundless words played across the screen.

Black Cat lifted his head and perked up his ears. His heart quickened. Maybe it was someone from the service station, calling about Angel? Or from the animal shelter?

John picked up the phone.
Are your carpets dirty? Too busy to clean? Call Stan, the Carpet Man.
John slammed down the phone.
False alarm
.

John fed the Emus while Cindy played.

The sun crawled across the sky and finally dropped behind the trees.

Time dragged on until 9:00 P.M.

“Run on in and get ready for bed, Cindy. Maybe tomorrow, we’ll hear some news about Angel. We’ll drive down by the AM-PM in the morning and look around again, okay?”

She nodded. “Don’t forget to say your prayers, Daddy. You pray for Angel, too.”

“I’ll do that, baby girl. Good night.”

Cindy kissed him, went to her room, and called from the door. “Good night, Black Cat.”

He curled up on the blanket by the stove with a heavy heart. What a terrible day. Mr. Skimmer’s visit replayed through his thoughts. The man was a real snake in the grass, trying to take advantage of John’s situation. Why did he look so familiar? Could he have been one of the men they overheard down by the river? The rushing water had muffled their voices and the underbrush was too thick to see either of their faces clearly. But showing up today and his ridiculous offer—it was possible.

At last, Black Cat slept…caught up in his dreams…
The prairie. A two-story house with twin gables. Red barns. Horses behind white painted paddocks. Angel, by the fountain. Eyes the color of mustard and stripes the color of marigolds—his Angel
. He shivered.
Angel. Where are you
?
A bearded man walks across the barn yard. There. An old woman
…

Meow!

I hear her. She’s calling me.
His front leg twitched.
Fog drifts around the big house. Angel!
She needs me. I have to go to her
. His legs jerk.
Dark shadows close overhead. A cold wind whistles across the yard.

Meow!

I have to help her.
Legs won’t move
.

Meow!
Louder now. He stirred, lifted his head. So real. Not like a dream at all
.
He blinked. Awake now…

Meow!

He shook his head to clear the sleep from his eyes.
That sounds like a cat.
He went to the front door, tilted his head and listened. Could he dare hope?

Meow!

There it was again.
There’s definitely a cat out there
. His heart thumped against his chest. He howled and leaped at the doorknob.
John. Come quick. Open the door.

“What is it, Black Cat?” John pulled earphones from his ears. He clicked off the infomercial on his computer and came to the door. “Do you need to go outside?”

Couldn’t he hear it? What was it with
persons
? Deaf as a cement light pole!

John opened the door. “What on earth?”

Chapter Twelve

A
damp and dirty figure tumbled through the door and collapsed at John’s feet.

“Angel?”

Stickers and mud tangled her matted coat. Her body shook with cold. Her eyes—huge. John picked her up and hurried toward the kitchen. “Cindy. Wake up and come in here!” He grabbed a kitchen towel, wet it in the sink and wiped Angel’s face, then wrapped her in Cindy’s sweater and laid her on her blanket. He shoved a log into the pot belly stove. The coals licked around the log and soon the fire roared.

Black Cat rushed to the blanket and groomed the top of Angel’s head and shoulders, the parts hardest for her to reach. “Oh, Angel! You’re back!”

Cindy stumbled out of her bedroom, rubbing her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. For once, something is right. Look who came home.”

“Angel?” Cindy gathered her up, sweater and all, and hugged her to her chest, then lay down beside her on the blanket.

Within a few minutes, Angel stopped shaking, started to purr and went to work to scrub the mud off her coat.

Maybe God had heard Cindy’s prayer, after all. If He could bring Angel back, maybe John’s other problems would work out, too “Tell me everything. What happened?” Black Cat gave Angel’s head another lick.

“Give me a few minutes, dear. I just want to lie here and get warm. I’m so glad to be home.”

Home
? Wasn’t that an interesting choice of words? They weren’t anywhere near home.
Home
was still out there. Somewhere. The sooner they got back on the road, the better. Of course, she meant she was glad to be
back
where it was safe and warm.

John ran his hands over Angel’s head. “She’s almost dry. I’ll bet if you warm a little milk and soak some bread in it, she’d really like that. She must be starved.”

Black Cat lay close beside Angel while she drank the warmed milk. When the bowl was as clean and dry as if it had been washed and dried with a paper towel, she licked her whiskers and curled up on the blanket.

“You’d best get back to bed, sweetheart.” John smiled at Cindy. “You can see Angel in the morning.”

Cindy kissed Angel’s ears and stroked Black Cat’s head. “Good night, Angel. Good night, Black Cat. I love you. I’ll see you in the morning.” She jumped up and skipped into her room. Now, wasn’t that the best thing ever? Her prayers were answered.

But, there was another little girl…the child in his dreams. Maybe she was praying for her lost cats to return, too. His heart lurched. He and Angel should leave before Cindy became even more attached. Look how upset she was when Angel was missing. How sad will she feel when they both moved on? How could they leave now and break her heart? This wasn’t turning out the way he’d planned at all.

Before long, Angel’s fur felt soft and dry. She folded her front feet under her breast, closed her eyes and turned up her nose in the strange little way he had come to love.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened?”

She stirred and then turned toward him. She blinked. The light glinted off her golden eyes. “Well, you know part of it.” She gazed into his eyes.

He shivered with joy.
She loves me. She truly does. I can see it in her eyes.

“The mama grabbed me and tossed me in the back of the car. I stood on the seat, but all the windows were rolled up tight. She used her cell phone and got directions to the animal shelter. On the way, she stopped for gas. I pretended to be asleep. When she opened the door, I jumped out and took off running. No way was she going to catch me.” Angel’s whiskers curved back across her cheeks. Cindy would have called it a smile, but cats can’t smile. It was more like a demonstration of the pure wickedness seeping out as she told her story.

Black Cat twitched his whiskers and dropped his head.
You go, girl!

Knowing Angel’s temperament, even with as little time as they’d spent together, somehow it didn’t surprise him that she’d managed to outwit the mama. “Go on. Then what happened? How did you find your way back to the ranch?”

“I headed down the road, the way we’d come, until dark. I passed a house where there was a shed with the door open. I figured it would be safer to sleep inside. When I woke up, someone had closed the door and I was trapped inside all day and last night. This morning, a man opened the door.

“As I ran out of the yard, their big dog barreled out of the garage and took off after me. I tried to climb a tree, but he grabbed me by the neck and shook me like a chew toy. I thought my brains would fall out my ears. I thought, ‘This is it!’ ”

“Angel! You could have been killed.” Black Cat’s heart thumped.
I should’ve been there. I’d have saved you.

“I thought I’d never see you again. I kicked and squirmed and my claws caught the side of the dog’s face. The man by the shed hollered and the dog dropped me.” She took a deep breath, sighed, and laid her head down on the blanket. Maybe she was too tired to finish her story.

“I jumped over the fence and walked the rest of the day. Once, a car almost hit me. That’s when I jumped off the road and fell in the mud. I walked and walked. Then I heard an Emu off in the distance and I followed the sound. That’s about it. Here I am.”

“I’m so glad you’re…back.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. Words couldn’t express what was in his heart. Even his ears tingled with the sheer joy of her safe return. He licked her shoulder and dampened it with kitty kisses. “I…I’m so sorry I walked out on you, when the mama said you were…expecting. I’m so ashamed. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. The…
um
…they’re fine too. I should have told you. I was waiting for the right time.” She dropped her head. “I’d rather not talk about it right now, if you don’t mind.” She closed her eyes and lay still for a moment. “What’s new here since I’ve been gone? Has John decided what to do with us?”

“John and Cindy put up posters, but no one’s called. Carolyn, the mama, came back. She and John quarreled. I doubt she’ll be back for a while. Oh, yes. The guy from next door heard about John’s trouble. He offered John peanuts for the ranch. John threw him out!”

“Not surprised.” Angel stood, turned in a circle and flopped on her opposite side.

“John wants to hold on to the ranch, but he might not have a choice. He could go to jail if they come to repossess and he won’t leave. I don’t know how we can help, short of waving a magic wand.”

Angel put her head on the blanket. “I’m afraid I’m flat out of magic wands. Good night, my dear. Sweet dreams.”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you…”

Too late. She was asleep. He wanted to tell her that he had dreamed about the ranch and he remembered her. A chill chased up and down his spine. Should he wake her and tell her, or let her sleep? If he’d learned anything over the past few days, it was not to put off important things until tomorrow.
Who knows how many tomorrows we have?

Chapter Thirteen

F
or several days after bringing Kimberlee home from the hospital, Brett kept busy doing the laundry, cooking, and taking care of Amanda. He came to understand why gals complained of dishpan hands. Even with a dishwasher, he felt as if he’d scrubbed enough pots and pans and crystal glasses to put permanent wrinkles in his fingers.

He scraped the bottom of another blackened pot—the result of getting distracted by his e-mail when he should have been watching the pot. Brett leaned over the sink and peered through the kitchen window. Across the lawn, a red plastic Frisbee with a dog attached whizzed past the glass. The dog flopped to the grass, golden tail waving, then raced back to Jack’s side and dropped the Frisbee at his feet.

Jack stroked his pet, picked up the Frisbee and gave it another heave toward the dock.

Chance barreled across the lawn, levitated and snatched the Frisbee before it hit the ground.

Brett grinned.
Dogs!
They were good at chasing Frisbees, but not so good at finding lost cats. His mouth pulled down.
That’s not fair
to the dogs
. Sam had found his share of lost boy scouts and Chance was still a pup learning her trade.

“Brett, honey? Is there any iced tea left?”

Kimberlee.

“Yes, dear, in a minute. I’m almost finished with this—
mumble mumble
—kettle.” He gave the pot a final scratch with the scrubber and filled it with water.
Maybe it would help if it soaks for a month or two.

Brett filled two glasses with iced tea and carried them to the porch. “Here you are, sweetheart. Do you need anything else?”

“Not right now. Thanks. Can you sit with me a while?” Kimberlee set her glass on the table and scooted back against the pillows in the lawn swing.

Brett sat beside her and made wet circles with this glass on the arm of the swing. He gazed intently at the sailboats drifting past the dock.