Mary Connealy (56 page)

Then he laughed. His laugh turned into a snarl. His fists rose in the bitter wind.
Mosqueros needs a schoolteacher!
He’d driven the one they had into the hills. There’d be no one else to handle the job. He’d been a schoolmaster in his youth before he’d found children to make his money for him.

He turned the horse back toward Mosqueros. He’d keep an eye on the gap and scout the land on Saturdays and Sundays looking for another entrance. And the rest of the time, he’d bring a little learning to the children of Mosqueros. He might not be able to get this stupid horse to mind him, but he’d always had a knack for instilling fearful obedience in children.

All but Grace.

He might even find a few children who’d be likely members for the new family he’d need to start once he worked his fury toward Grace out of his system.

He kicked the horse savagely to make it move. The hag crow-hopped and kicked up its hind legs. Nearly unseated, Parrish didn’t kick the animal again. Nothing in Texas acted the way it should. Nothing!

The cave was warm—she’d give Daniel that. The door slammed open. She had already realized she needed to give the door a wide berth in the tiny house. She braced herself.

Ike came dashing into the house, bent double as if he was in pain. He actually closed the door, which sounded an alarm to Grace.

“Ike, is everything all right?” Grace stepped back so he didn’t knock her over.

“I gotta get warm.” Ike dropped on his knees in front of the stove. Grace knelt beside him, worried that his hands were frostbitten, since he’d tucked them inside his coat.

Slowly, on a soft breath, Ike pulled out his hands.

Before Grace could see what he’d done to himself, the door slammed open again and Luke rushed in, carrying the cat. It yowled and wriggled until Luke dropped it.

“Close the door, stupid.” Ike pulled her attention back.

He opened one hand, and Grace saw two tiny furry things; his other hand opened, and there were two more. Kittens. So tiny they still had their eyes closed.

“Where did you get them?”

The cat came up to Ike on the side away from Grace. Rising up on her hind legs, she sniffed at Ike’s hand. A much smaller cat than she’d been just last night.

“Your cat had kittens?”

“Out of season. She should have had ’em in the spring.” Ike lowered his hand so the cat could see her four babies. “She must have just birthed ’em last night. I found them in the barn, but it’s too cold. They’ll freeze to death.”

Ike glanced up, and Grace remembered the day the two of them had doctored the cat at school. Despite the fact that none of the boys wanted her for their ma, accord passed between her and Ike.

“They’ll be okay.” Grace patted Ike’s shoulder. “You’ll take good care of them, and their mom will feed them. Before you know it, we’ll have five cats in this family.”

Luke shoved himself between Grace and Ike. He jostled Ike’s arm.

“Watch it, stupid.” For the first time in history—as far as Grace knew their history at least—one of the boys got bumped without hitting back. Ike held the kittens too carefully. He didn’t even yell, out of deference for the babies.

“Sorry, Ike. Can I help?” Luke leaned down until he almost touched the kittens with his nose. He reached his hand toward one.

“Just one finger, Luke. They’re really fragile. You shouldn’t touch a baby kitten at all. Their mother might abandon them. But I had to bring ’em in.” Ike looked sideways at Grace for a second, a furrow cutting between his brow. “I know I shouldn’t have touched them. But she born-ed ’em right out in the middle of the barn. It must be her first litter. I reckon she don’t know how it’s done yet. You think they’ll be all right?”

“I think you had to take the chance.” Grace silently prayed they would survive, hurting for Ike if they didn’t. He’d blame himself. “They’d never have made it if you’d left them there. You had to do it, Ike.”

Ike nodded, frowning but with an assurance that Grace had seen before when he tended animals. Ike said to Luke, “Touch it on its head and draw your finger gentle-like down toward its tail.”

Luke did as he was told. “It’s so soft. Softest thing I’ve ever felt.”

Ike’s expression lifted as he smiled at his brother. “Yeah, it is. Let’s see if we can get the cat to feed ’em.”

Ike glanced at Grace. She nodded and knelt beside the fretful mother cat. She petted the cat, gently urging her down on her side. Ike laid all four kittens on her belly.

The mother, her yellow fur soft and thick with winter growth, twisted her head back to study her babies. The babies started a high-pitched mewling, and the mother’s purr sped up.

Grace had no trouble keeping the cat on her side. She seemed to know that was where she needed to be. The kittens’ tiny paws waved and pushed at the fur. Their bellies were on the ground, and their feet could only inch them along.

Ike and Luke—who still used but one finger—nudged the kittens toward food. One by one they found what they were looking for and their heartrending cries quieted. It was only moments later that all four babies were eating.

The mother cat kept looking at them, giving them an occasional lick with her pink tongue or caress with her quivering nose. The babies drank steadily. Their paws, tipped with claws so fine that they were translucent, kneaded at their mother’s stomach.

Grace knelt there stroking the cat’s fur in a moment of peaceful joy with two of her sons. Ike and Luke just watched, looking up at Grace to smile every now and again.

Finally, Ike broke the silence. “They’re gonna make it, aren’t they, Ma?”

Grace smiled back. “You know, I think they are. Now there are enough cats so everyone can have his own.”

Ike said, “Nope. They’re all mine.”

Luke nodded without comment.

“You know, I just thought she was fat.” Grace sat back on her knees. Ike snickered. “Me, too.”

Daniel came in carrying an armload of wood. He kicked the door shut. “What ya got there, boy?”

He dropped the heavy pieces of split oak in one corner then crouched down beside the cat. “Kittens, great. They’ll keep the mice down. But they should be in the barn. No room for five cats in here.” Daniel sounded strict, but he pulled one glove off his left hand, reached out, and rubbed the cat’s shoulder. His heavy hand rested gently on the new mother.

“I’ll move ’em out just as soon as I can, Pa. She didn’t even make a nest for ’em. She had two in one spot and the other two just laid out alone. Reckon she’s too young to be a ma yet.”

Daniel thought about it. “How hard did you hunt, boy? A mother cat has six kittens most times.”

Ike jumped to his feet. “I looked pretty hard, but maybe I’d better go over the barn again.”

Daniel nodded. “Just to be on the safe side.”

Ike rushed out with Luke on his heels. Ike took a second to close the door.

“That young’un is the animal doctorin’-est boy I’ve ever seen.” Daniel kept petting the cat. “Luke’s got the talent for doctoring but not the same soft heart for animals as Ike has. That soft heart of his will get him in trouble.”

Grace couldn’t help but smile. “I wonder where he got that soft heart?”

Daniel jerked his head up and scowled as if he’d forgotten Grace was there.

Well, to whom had he been talking, then?
“I’m not softhearted.”

The cat stopped purring at Daniel’s disgruntled tone.

Grace just barely kept from rolling her eyes. “No, of course not…excuse me. You’re just as hard-hearted as they come.” She glanced at the cat, which Daniel still petted.

With a heavy sigh, Daniel said, “I reckon we just got ourselves four more house cats. When Ike brought that kitten home, I told him, ‘No cat in the house.’ That didn’t even last an hour.”

“Five house cats. You ever have a mouse in this house, Daniel?”

“No, but what self-respecting mouse would want to move into this place?” Daniel’s mouth turned up on one side, nearly a smile. Grace grinned.

“We did have a badger pop out through a hole in the ground in that corner.” Daniel pointed to a spot right behind Grace.

With a squeak not much different than that of a hungry little kitten, Grace wheeled around on her knees toward the corner.

Daniel was still laughing when he closed the door on his way out.

The kittens moved into the tiny cave with the rest of them. When they survived through a couple of nights and the mama cat seemed to catch on to just how to mother them, Daniel insisted they be moved back to the barn.

The mother, in full power as a parent now, moved them back to the cave, carrying them by the napes of their necks, one at a time.

Daniel declared war with the mother cat and moved them back. They’d been fighting it out for three days.

The snow started melting. The winter blizzard had come and gone, leaving cool but tolerable weather.

Grace’s biscuits showed meager improvement, or else the menfolk were truly starving. Either way, the people survived just as well as the kittens.

As she stood, wondering how to pass this afternoon in the dark little home, even the kittens were currently, if temporarily, outside. She, on the other hand, had been made to feel decidedly unwanted outside.

The door slammed open. She braced herself for the onslaught.

It was only one small onslaught—John.

“Hi, Ma.”

“Close the door, John.”

John stopped short. He stared at her.

“The door,” she said again.

He still looked.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

He shut the door.

A surge of triumph went through her. Suddenly she realized that it didn’t take much to make her happy. A burned steak, warm clothes, an occasional split second of obedience from her son.

“How’d you know I’m John?”

The question surprised her. “How could I not know? You boys are nothing alike.”

“We’re exactly alike. Everybody says so.”

Grace shrugged. “You’re John. You sit in the middle at meals. You’re a good reader.” She leaned down and whispered, “And I think you’re the nicest one of the bunch.”

He gave her a look that made her wonder if she’d just insulted him.

“Am not. Mark’s best.”

“At some things he’s best,” Grace agreed. “At other things Luke is best. You’ve all got talents.”

John studied her as though she had just sprouted a second head. “No, we all know Mark’s best, then Abe.” John looked down at the floor and kicked at it.

He was so overly nonchalant that Grace knew what he was going to say next was very important to him.

“I’m worst at things. It’s okay.”

Boom!
An explosion shattered the quiet of the cave.

S
omething slammed into the roof so hard the whole mountain shook.

Grace screamed and stumbled into the back wall. John shouted in terror. His fear hurt worse than her own. He fell against her, and they crashed to the floor in a heap.

Rocks from the ceiling pelted her back. John jumped up. Instinctively Grace grabbed him and sheltered him with her body. A sharp stone ripped her shirt with a loud tearing sound.

The door blasted open. One leather hinge at the bottom of the door snapped. Snow erupted into the opening. The door wedged into the ground and stayed standing.

The red-hot stove shook. It tipped sideways onto one leg, falling straight toward them. Grace shoved John against the far wall, mere feet away from the stove. With a sharp rending of metal, the stovepipe shattered into pieces and tumbled to the floor, rolling toward Grace. She flung her arms around the boy. Glancing over her shoulder, Grace saw the blazing stove teeter.

She lifted her feet and braced them on the wall as a piece of metal clattered toward her, keeping her body between the pipe and John. When the pipe stopped rolling, she kicked it away. The stove tilted back, rocked twice more, and stayed upright.

The outside rumbled and exploded around them. Dirt and stones from the ceiling continued to crumble, filling the house with choking grit. The savagery went on and on. Minutes passed. The cave went pitch-black except for the fiendish red glow from the fire.

Grace felt as if she were being swallowed, gulped down into the deep, dark belly of a monster. The noise became muted. Snow cascaded through the hole in the roof left from the broken pipe. The snow sizzled on the stove then clogged the small opening and stopped.