Taking the shortcut out the back door of the garage, she loped onto the deck, crate in hand and towels tucked under her arm, but then slowed her steps lest she frighten the injured cat.
The mother wasn’t panting so hard, and at first, Jaci’s heart leaped, hoping the animal’s pain had eased. But her heart nosedived as she realized that not only was the cat not panting hard, she wasn’t breathing at all. She lay motionless, the only movement from the jerking and tugging of the babies as they suckled.
A deep sob quivered in Jaci’s chest as she sat down. No need to hurry now. What was the use? She’d still need to take the kittens to the animal hospital, but that could wait. She could allow them these few minutes…this last bit of love and comfort their mama would ever be able to provide.
She stroked the animal’s head with one hand and swiped tears with the other. “You did good, sweet kitty. I’ll—” She stopped, unsure how to finish the sentence. What was she going to do? She wouldn’t make promises she couldn’t keep—not even to a deceased cat. But she knew nothing about kittens and didn’t have the foggiest idea if a shelter would take babies this young. She tried for something noncommittal. “What you did was very brave. They’re beautif—” The constriction in her throat cut off her words.
The gray kitten, which was slightly bigger than the black, released the nipple, and, with a wide yawn, rooted against his mom’s tummy and curled up, full and safe and calm.
Jaci swallowed away the lump. Arguing with herself would only waste valuable time. She already knew what she was going to do. She stroked the mama cat’s head a final time. “It’s okay,” she cooed. “I’m here. I’ll take good care of your babies.”
The black kitten had its fill by then, also. Jaci picked them up and snuggled them under her chin, catching the faint scent of milky breath.
Even filled with towels, the crate seemed much too large for the two tiny creatures, but it would have to do for now. She placed them in their new bed and watched them squirm until they found each other, then settled down contented.
She carried the kittens inside, wondering how Bart would respond to the surprise.
The kittens he probably wouldn’t mind.
But he wouldn’t be too thrilled when he found out the first item on this Thanksgiving agenda was an unscheduled cat funeral.
* * *
STUART REINHOLT WAS A man about to bolt.
Kyndal studied him covertly as they passed around the pumpkin pie and apple dumplings. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was about his manner. It was just a vibe she was too familiar with—a sort of sixth sense that she’d learned to recognize in men.
On the surface, he and Julia appeared to be a happy, loving couple. They’d stopped by Jaci’s on their way home from Thanksgiving dinner at his mother’s house, and Jaci was obviously excited to see her business partner feeling well enough to visit.
And while Kyndal was glad to see with her own eyes just how good Julia looked considering she’d been through a bilateral mastectomy last month, Stuart’s presence set her nerves on edge.
“What did you think of your mom’s pie today?” Julia tried to draw him into the conversation.
He shrugged without looking at her. “It was okay.”
Julia turned her attention back to the group. “Hilda made a maple bourbon pecan pie that was to kill for.”
The tiny interaction, which was no interaction at all, was sad to watch, and made Kyndal’s stomach tighten. “I think I’ll pass on the pie.” She slid the plate over to Paul, Jaci’s dad.
“Well, then…” Paul cut a generous wedge and placed it on his dessert plate. “I’ll take Kyndal’s portion, too.”
Jaci’s mom eyed his monstrous helping. “That’s not just Kyndal’s portion. That’s big enough for you, Kyndal and Sasquatch. Honestly, Paul, you’re gonna keep on eatin’ till one day you’re just gonna bust into a thousand pieces.”
“Maybe.” Paul swallowed a large bite and winked at his wife. “But I know which piece you’ll be scrambling to keep as a memento.”
“Aaeeiiii!” Jaci wailed, cramming her fingers into her ears. “Please don’t say things like that around me. Makes me want to lose my dinner. And remember, we have babies present.” She nodded toward the wooden crate with the sleeping kittens who, with their every-two-hours feeding schedule had been the center of attention all day.