Return to Virgin River (Virgin River #19)(9)

“There are feral cats around, but we have a dog. And with the wildlife in the mountains, kittens without a mother don’t survive long and if they do, they’re fighting cats. Where is it?”

“In the casita,” she said. “I couldn’t leave it alone. You have a dog?”

Jack nodded. “Ralph. He’s a border collie. My son found him under the Christmas tree we put up in town every year so we had to keep him. He’s kind of lazy but he’d probably try to herd a kitten. He’s still herding us into the kitchen whenever he can.”

“I never saw a dog,” she said nervously. “I’m a little wary around dogs. I was bitten when I was a child. Pretty badly. Badly enough to set up a good-size phobia.”

“Ralph won’t bite you. He stays close to David, my son. Besides, Ralph’s partying days are over. Did you, um, feed that stray kitten?”

“No. I just gave him some milk and left him in the casita so he wouldn’t get hurt or lost.”

“You fed him. And what are you going to do with him now?”

“There must be a no-kill shelter around here somewhere,” she said.

“Nah, you should keep him. You two need each other.”

“I’ve never had a cat...”

“I hear cats are easy. Sometimes they’re independent and couldn’t give a shit about you, but some people claim to have very affectionate cats. And he or she’s a baby. That should give you an edge. Plus, you fed him—that’s commitment in his eyes. There’s a pet store in Clear River where you can get some supplies. I’ll give you directions.”

“I won’t even know what to buy!”

“It’s a pet store,” Jack repeated. “Tell them you don’t know what to buy and they’ll load you up. How was the casita? You sleep okay?”

“It was very nice, thank you,” she said in a somewhat frustrated tone. Had he just sold her a kitten? “Do you have some kind of breakfast sandwich? And coffee?”

“You bet. Preacher’s in the kitchen. What do you want on it?”

“Sausage, egg and cheese, please.”

“Sounds easy. Stay tuned.” He turned and went to the kitchen. A moment, and only a moment later, he placed before her a perfect sandwich, cut on the diagonal, with some home fries and a tomato slice on the side. “Anything else? Ranch? Mayo? Ketchup?”

“Cholula hot sauce?”

“A girl after my own heart,” he said, producing the desired hot sauce. Next came a mug of coffee and an ice water. “Be careful, now,” he said. “After a couple of Preacher’s meals, you’ll never cook for yourself again.”

She added her sauce, took a bite and let her eyelids drop in heavenly wonder. It was fabulous. “There are onions and peppers in here,” she said. “Brilliant!”

Before she finished the first half, the magic that was Jack’s Bar began to happen. People wandered in, recognized her as the girl from the fire, introduced themselves and tried to think of a house she could rent. She met Connie from the store across the street, Tom Cavanaugh from a local orchard, Jillian, who ran a small farm of specialty fruits and vegetables, Luke Riordan, who owned some cabins on the river, and Dr. Michaels, who worked with Mel. They all mentioned other neighbors and in no time at all she felt she’d met or heard about everyone in the town. When she finished her breakfast, she dabbed her lips and pushed her plate away. “I was going to see if I could write for a little while, but I think I have to go to the pet store.”

“Congratulations,” Jack said with a grin. “You’re a kitty mother.”

“I haven’t decided I’m going to keep him,” she said.

“But why not? Everyone needs a companion. Especially a writer. So, what kind of stuff do you write?”

“Well, mysteries. Scary mysteries.”

“Are you famous?”

She paused before giving her standard answer. Only to my mother. “Hardly anyone knows me. Thanks, Jack. That was absolutely great.”

“I’m hoping you’ll be a regular,” he said.

She gave him some money and he gave her directions written on a napkin. “Try not to find any more kittens. My daughter is almost six. Very vulnerable to small, cute animals.”

“I’ll keep my eyes closed,” she said with a laugh.

And she thought, In eight months nothing has changed and suddenly, in one day, I feel like life could be interesting again.





* * *



Kaylee had never had a pet. When she was quite small it was because her parents worked and there was no time to take care of a pet. When she was six, not long after her father left them, she got that nasty dog bite. He was just some wayward dog loose in the park and of all the children there, he bit Kaylee. That eliminated the puppy notion, plus there was even one fewer person to take care of a pet. Her mother liked cats but when she was around Grandma’s cats, her sinuses plugged up and she sneezed a lot. Grandma had to put the cats in a room when they visited, but that didn’t help too much because the dander was everywhere.

Kaylee had a girlfriend who had two cats—one was sweet and cuddly and the other one seemed to think she was leasing her space to the humans. Her friend’s cats didn’t bother her sinuses at all, so that was one issue she wasn’t worried about. But because of her closeness with her mother, a cat as a companion had never occurred to her.