Mulberry Moon

by Catherine Anderson

  “Mom.” Ben leaned toward Kate. “What took the damned necklace?” He caught himself too late. “I’m sorry, the danged necklace.”

  Kate sent him a scolding look. “A pack rat.”

  “A what?” Jeremiah asked.

  Carefully enunciating each word, Kate repeated, “A— pack—rat.”

  Ben went limp against the back of the chair. “Of course. I considered mice, but they aren’t big enough to steal stuff. Pack rats can be fairly big. Right? Big enough to alarm Finn and make him growl.”

  “Oh, yes,” Kate confirmed. “Some are small. Some are bigger than we want to imagine. But all of them are attracted to shiny things. Daddy found every single item Grandma had supposedly misplaced in that rat’s nest.”

  “I knew it couldn’t be a ghost!” Ben said. “Now what’ll I do? Find the nest and bait it with poison?”

  “I read somewhere once that pack rats won’t eat the stuff that kills mice and other rats,” Jeremiah said. “Instead they carry it away from their nests, and other animals or birds eat it. The best way to get rid of them is to keep your property and outbuildings free of debris. Until they move on, ratproof the building by plugging all the holes that may provide ingress with steel wool.”

  Ben sighed. “Behind those buildings, it’s like one huge backyard. Everyone has sheds, small garages, and business debris lying around. Maybe I can just catch the rat and relocate it.”

  “Worth a try, I guess,” Jeremiah said.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sissy jerked awake. She lay still under the blankets and comforter, thinking her ghost was paying her another visit. Silence. She was about to fall back asleep when a knock snapped her to attention again. Someone was pounding on her downstairs back door. She jumped out of bed, ran to her window, and pushed it upward.

  “Who is it?” she yelled.

  “Ben! I’m sorry it’s so late, but it’s important.”

  “Um—okay.” Her mind still muzzy with sleep, Sissy patted her hand over an oversize T-shirt. She couldn’t go downstairs like this. “I’ll be right there!”

  She closed the window and raced to her closet for the robe she rarely used. She began flipping on lights as she hurried through her apartment.

  When she got downstairs, turned on her porch light, and opened the door, Ben loomed at the threshold. He held what looked like a large wire box in one hand.

  “What’s that?”

  “A live trap.” He stepped forward, forcing her back three steps. “Your ghost may be a pack rat.”

  “A what?” That woke her up fast.

  “It may be living with you. And tonight we’re going to catch it and get it out of your building.”

  “Oh, God. A rat has been playing my keyboard and making me think I’m nuts?”

  “Possibly.”

  As Ben led the way upstairs, he told her about his great-grandmother, who’d had a pack rat that stole things. “If her roof hadn’t sprung a leak, my grandfather never would have found the nest.”

  Sissy’s skin crawled. Once in her apartment, Ben set the wire thing on her kitchen counter, and then, without explanation, he began sifting through her drawers, messing everything up. Her measuring cups, always nested together in a stack, went flying in all directions.

  “What are you doing?” she cried.

  “Looking for bait,” he said. “Shiny things.” He tossed her silver quarter-cup measurer onto the counter. That was soon joined by a metal bottle opener. “This is a live trap. Once the rat goes in and steps in the right place, the door slams closed and latches. It won’t be able to get out.” He paused and glanced over his shoulder at her. His eyes, a blend of whiskey and gold dust, fixed on her face. “Can you handle waking up to find a rat inside this cage? If not, I can stay and deal with it.”

  Sissy pushed at her hair. Waking up to find a hissing, big-toothed rat in that trap didn’t sound fun. But as much as she’d come to like—and trust—Ben, she wasn’t quite ready to have him stay all night with her. The rat would be caged. Ben was a whole different kettle of fish.

  “I can handle that,” she said. “I, um—I’ll just stay out of the kitchen and wait for you to come in the morning.” She stared at the cage. “Do you really think it’ll get stuck in there tonight?”

  He cast her another look that threatened to make her forget all her other worries. Oh, Sissy, she thought, you are such an idiot. You’re falling in love with him.

  “I’m almost certain of it,” he said. “Do you have any of those little Snickers bars? That’s what it seems to like best.”

  Sissy sighed and slumped her shoulders. “I quit buying them when my candy bowl got knocked off the coffee table. Now I just go next door and buy regular-size Snickers from Marilyn.” The lie settled in her chest like a rock. “Okay, the truth is, when I crave a Snickers so bad I can’t stand it, I buy one of those extra-large ones and eat the whole thing. That’s why I always got little ones. It helps me control myself.”

  Ben laughed, the sound deep and wonderfully soothing to her somehow. “Sweetheart, if that’s the worst thing you ever have to confess, you’re amazing.” He gave her a measuring look. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, you’re eating Snickers bars because you’re actually wanting something else?”

  Sissy blinked at him. She probably looked like an owl that was having a bad hair day. “What else would I be wanting?” she asked, and immediately regretted the question as a possible answer popped into her mind.

  He placed more shiny things inside the cage. “Never mind me. I’m all mouth and no brains.” He fiddled with the mechanism. “Okay. Baited and all set.”

  The Western wear hugged his frame, showcasing a body that screamed “man.” And looking at him did make her want a Snickers bar. For the first time, Sissy could admit, if only to herself, that she wanted to have sex with the man standing before her. She wondered how a woman went about telling a guy something like that.

  He turned toward her. “If you hear the trap slam closed, call me. I’ll keep my cell on my nightstand. I don’t want you trying to deal with this. I’ll come take care of it.”

  “How will you take care of it?” she asked, hating the fact that her voice went shrill.

  Ben stepped closer. Too close. He cupped his hands over her cheeks and thumbed her chin up so she had to look at him. “The animal won’t be injured. I’ll just relocate it.”

  “So no matter how big and awful it is, we don’t have to hurt it?”

  “Nope. We’ll just move him to a nice place where he can build a new home.”

  He sneaked in and kissed her on the forehead again. With him being so tall, so broad at the shoulders, and so wide across the chest, she felt cocooned in masculine warmth for an instant. Then he stepped away. When he reached the door, he stopped. “Um—I can’t lock up. You want to follow me down?”

  Forehead tingling, Sissy trudged down the stairs behind him. At the lower back door, she stood well away while he let himself out, and then as the latch clicked, she yelled, “Good night, Ben. Thanks for bringing the ratcatcher.”

  After engaging the dead bolt, she cinched the sash of her robe tighter, wishing she could go next door and wake Marilyn to get a Snickers bar.

  * * *

  Ben wrapped his arms gently around her and drew her close against his hard, warm body. Sissy wanted to be even closer. She was too short to press her face against the hollow of his throat, too short to intoxicate herself with the scent of his cologne. She stepped onto his boots to make herself taller and nestled her cheek against his shoulder.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered. “Not on my forehead this time. I need you to kiss me, Ben.”

  He bent his head. Her heart started to pound. His lips shimmered in the faint light. His breath smelled pleasantly of coffee.

  Ker-whack!!!

  The loud noise jolted her u
pright. Accustomed to weird sounds that disrupted her sleep, she didn’t feel alarmed. Instead, disappointment washed through her. She had rolled herself up in the comforter and the tight embrace wasn’t Ben’s. Only a dream, she thought. But, oh, what a nice one. She sighed and lay back, surrounded by warmth and her own scent of lavender.

  Then she heard something go Wheek!

  It was a shrill, peeping noise charged with fright. She struggled free of the blankets. What on earth was that? Dimly she recalled the loud sound that had awakened her. Then she remembered the live trap Ben had baited and set on her kitchen counter.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered. “We caught it.”

  Ben had told her to call him, but she always charged her phone in the kitchen overnight, and she hadn’t thought to grab it before returning to bed. That meant she couldn’t call Ben without going into the kitchen where the rat, now squeaking incessantly, was trapped in the cage.

  Sissy pictured it—a big, hairy, ugly thing with dangerous fangs. She didn’t want to go anywhere near it. But the sounds it was making would keep her awake all night. She had to call Ben so he could get it out of there.

  Sissy slipped from the bed and crept to the doorway that led into her living room. She leaned around the jamb to flip on the wall switch. Light flooded the living room. It’s trapped in a cage, you silly goose. What are you afraid of? Just run in there and get your phone. Feeling as if her feet were weighted to the floor, Sissy walked through the front room and flipped on the kitchen light.

  It was the cutest little thing, golden brown in color, with round, erect ears lined in pink, a nose bracketed by whiskers that twitched like a rabbit’s, and a sweet face. Far larger than a mouse, it still wasn’t gigantic, about the size of a young kitten. It didn’t seem at all afraid now that she’d shown herself. Then it peered at Sissy with shoe-button eyes bright with curiosity. The next squeak it emitted had a different tone, almost as if it were saying, Oh, hi! Thank goodness it’s only you.

  “You know me,” she said softly. Then she laughed. “Well, of course you know me. We’ve been living together for months.”

  It squeaked as if in reply. A huge grin spread over her mouth. For some reason, it looked like a boy to her. A very cute little guy. She touched her finger to the side of the cage. He just scurried close, sniffing as if to identify her scent. Then he squeaked again, and this time she felt sure it was in friendly greeting.

  “You little stinker,” she said with a laugh. “You’re the one who stole all my Snickers bars.”

  Tensed to jerk her hand back, she let the rat sniff her finger. His nose tickled her skin. Emboldened by his curious and gentle approach, she slowly inserted her finger all the way in. “Oh,” she said, her heart almost melting. The rat nudged her. He wasn’t aggressive. “You are so cute. Who was the idiot who decided to call you a rat? You’re as cute as any chipmunk I’ve ever seen. What you need is a nice name. How about Snickers? Would you like that?”

  Snickers picked up the measuring spoon. He used his front paws much like people use their hands.

  “Are you hungry or thirsty?” she asked.

  Snickers gave her an intent look, which she took as a yes. Only, what did pack rats like to eat? She got her laptop from the drawer of her entertainment stand and looked it up. Minutes later she returned from the downstairs kitchen with some wheatgrass and pine nuts. The cage had a side access door. She opened it and put her offerings on the floor of the enclosure. Snickers hurried over to sniff the food. He sampled a nut. Then he proceeded to eat a blade of grass, holding it like people do an ear of corn.

  * * *

  Ben slapped at the clock radio on his nightstand to make his alarm shut up. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, fumbling with the slide switch to turn the damned thing off. Slowly coming awake, he noticed his cell phone sitting on the nightstand. Sissy hadn’t contacted him. Raking both hands through his hair, he wondered why. He’d been certain the pack rat would get caught in the trap overnight. But he guessed it hadn’t. Sissy would have freaked out and called him.

  Ben staggered into the adjoining master bathroom and stood for a good three minutes under a pulsing jet of warm water to wake himself up. Mixed in with the steam, the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee teased his nostrils. Ah. He’d remembered to prepare the coffeemaker and set the timer. When he got downstairs, a wonderful cup of java would be waiting.

  After making quick work of his morning ablutions, Ben threw on clothing and stuffed his feet into his favorite work boots. Once downstairs, he enjoyed one mug of coffee in silence, wanting to enjoy at least part of his morning ritual. While sipping his second cup, he called Brett and asked him to take care of the morning chores. Ben had no clue why, but he felt uneasy about Sissy and wanted to check on her. Once he made sure she was okay, he’d be able to focus on his day.

  Ben parked in Sissy’s backyard shortly after six. Sunlight peeked over the mountains that ringed the east side of the valley, washing the pine-covered slopes in misty gold. Glancing up at the sky, now a deep gray streaked with rose, he decided that it promised to be a beautiful day. Once on the porch, he rapped on the door, hoping Sissy would hear him. Whether she was still upstairs or in the café kitchen, the acoustics in the old building weren’t the best.

  Soon, though, he heard the light, rapid pat of her footsteps. He guessed that she was hurrying down the stairs that led from her flat. Smiling slightly, he envisioned her face and wondered what she was wearing today. A knit top that hugged her torso like a second skin would be awesome. Not that she ever wore tight tops—but, hey, a guy could wish.

  The door flew open so fast it almost startled him. Sissy’s appearance finished the job. Though she wore her usual jeans and running shoes, the T-shirt that finished off her attire was so oversize that the hem hit her just above the knees. It was faded, thin with wear, and sported a hole in one sleeve. Her hair, normally tousled, but in a cute, attractive way, stood straight up in spikes at one side of her head. The other half lay flat. He wondered how in the hell she could still manage to look beautiful. Her face glowed, and twinkles of happiness danced in her eyes, reminding him of one of those rare midsummer nights when early stars glistened in a still blue sky just before full darkness descended.

  “I caught him!” She whirled away and vanished, calling back to him, “Hurry and come see, Ben. He’s too cute for words!”

  Cute? Ben wondered if he had wax in his ears. No rat was cute. But he followed Sissy as she sprinted up the stairs. After entering her apartment, she left the door standing open. As Ben stepped inside, his gaze shot to the kitchen counter. There was indeed a critter caught in the trap.

  “Well,” he said as he strode into the kitchen, “my idea worked.”

  “I’ve named him Snickers. You know, after the candy bars he stole. I was afraid of him at first, but he wasn’t the least bit nervous of me. But, then, why should he be? We’ve been roommates for months!”

  Ben drew up beside the cage just after Sissy did. After studying the small creature, he decided, Nope, it isn’t cute.

  Then Sissy made his pulse escalate by opening the side door. “Um, I wouldn’t do that,” Ben rushed to say. “He could bite you, and though we don’t have many cases in central Oregon, rabies is always a concern.”

  “Oh, how silly. He doesn’t bite.” After making that pronouncement, she reached inside the cage, gently lifted the rat, and drew it out. Ben nearly had a heart attack. Cuddling the nasty little creature in her cupped hands, she tucked it against her neck just under her chin. “See? We’re best friends! He already loved me. He’s been hanging out with me, so to him I was a friend. And almost the first instant I saw him, I felt the same way. It’s fate.”

  “Sissy.” Ben stopped with her name and longed to say um for a full minute until he could think his way through this. “Rats can and do bite. They also carry diseases that are dangerous to humans. In fact, just breathing the air
is probably a threat to your—and my—health.”

  Her eyes went bright with tears. “But he looks perfectly healthy!”

  “That doesn’t mean he isn’t carrying viruses. You need to let me relocate him ASAP.” Ben saw more tears gathering in her blue eyes. He rushed to add, “He’s a wild creature. And no matter how cute he is, he needs to remain wild. I promise to find a good place to drop him off, someplace where he’ll be happy, build a new nest, and make friends.”

  She looked up at Ben as if he’d just told her he was an ax murderer. “But that would be so cruel! It’s turning winter. The nights are dropping below freezing sometimes! Snickers already has a cozy nest! If he’s moved, he’ll have no home, no shelter from the elements! He couldn’t build another nest quickly enough to protect himself.”

  Snickers nuzzled Sissy’s chin and then crawled up her shirt to snuggle against her ear. It gave Ben the creeps. The rat turned to peer at Ben. In that moment, Ben had to admit, if only to himself, that the little guy was pretty damned cute—or would be, if he weren’t a rat.

  Even so, he could see love written all over Sissy’s face. He decided that he had two choices. He could let her figure this out on her own, or he could take the necessary steps to protect her.

  “Okay,” he relented. “You want to keep him. I get it. But if you’re going to do that, you should at least let me take him to the vet. Maybe Jack can run tests to make sure he isn’t carrying anything dangerous, and there may even be vaccinations to protect Snickers from catching stuff.” He paused to let Sissy assimilate that. “Will you at least let me do that much?”

  She finally nodded. “I’ve never had a real pet as an adult, but I’ve read that responsible people always take them for checkups and inoculations.” She returned Snickers to the cage and glanced at her watch. “I’m closing the café to go with him. Christopher will miss his special breakfast, but it can’t be avoided. Snickers isn’t afraid of me, but he may be of you.”