On the far side of the counter, two dogs, one a black Lab and the other a cocker spaniel, tugged at their leashes. Because each dog had at least one kid fussing over it, Ben decided these were new adoptions, not animals being surrendered to the shelter.
A plump red-haired woman worked behind the counter, dealing with forms and answering questions. Tansy was helping her, bestowing warm smiles on the adults signing the forms and pulling out their checkbooks. The adults and kids all seemed to know each other, so Ben decided two families had come in together to adopt.
He waded into the confusion, introduced himself and asked if he could film the happy families and their new canine friends. Everyone seemed pleased about the idea, so he got some more footage. Maybe the station could use it and maybe not, but the excitement of the moment was contagious and he thought capturing it might be useful for...something.
Apparently he’d come in on the tail end of the procedure, because within fifteen minutes, the families had driven off with their dogs and the reception area grew quiet again.
Tansy beckoned him over to the counter. “Ben Rhodes, this is Faye Barnard, who presides over the front desk and creates order from chaos.”
Ben shook her hand. “I could tell that this was a red-letter day for those two families.”
“It was.” Faye’s cheeks dimpled and her green eyes glowed with satisfaction. “This is what it’s all about, settling previously unwanted animals with families who are crazy about them. It’s so rewarding.”
“And thank you for capturing it,” Tansy said. “Do you think KFOR would run something like that?”
“I don’t know. I saw an opportunity and grabbed it, but I’m not in charge of what gets shown and what doesn’t. I’d love to see that air, though. It would inspire more people to adopt.”
“Yes, it would.” Tansy’s gaze met his, and the question was there, the same question that had always been there. Had it inspired him? Was he ready to take in a homeless dog or cat?
She didn’t say that out loud, though, which meant he could pretend he hadn’t picked up on her unspoken plea. “Do you have a minute to look at what I have here?”
Tansy glanced at Faye. “Can you handle the phone for a little while?”
“Be happy to.”
“Then come on back to my desk, Ben.” Tansy motioned him around the end of the counter. “Nobody’s scheduled to come in for at least another thirty minutes, but you never know. Anything can happen around here, and usually does.”
“I’ve got it under control,” Faye said. “Go preview those pictures. I know you’re dying to see them.”
“I am.”
“I think I got some you’ll like.” Ben followed Tansy to a desk in the far right-hand corner. Her computer was on and several folders were stacked beside the monitor. A rigid plastic chair sat next to her desk, and he commandeered it, bringing it over so it was close to her chair.
“Was Cindy helpful?” She sat down and swiveled to face him.
“She was great.” Setting both the digital camera and the camcorder on the desk, he shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the back of the chair. Then he took off his hat and looked for a place to put it.
“Let me have it,” Tansy said.” He handed her the hat and she set it down on top of the folders. “I’m glad Cindy was there. She’s so good with the animals.”
“She is. She played with both the cats and the dogs so I got some terrific action shots.” Settling onto the chair, he picked up the digital camera and clicked the preview button so the first one appeared in the small screen. “Can you see that? Here, take the camera and use that button to jump to the next one.” He leaned toward her and did his best to concentrate on the images.
But he’d like to see the man who could do that and ignore the flowery scent of her skin and the tickle of her warm breath on his cheek. If he made a half turn, his lips would meet hers. But kissing her at all would be inappropriate, not to mention kissing her in a public office space under the watchful eye of her receptionist.
He reminded himself that he enjoyed his job and would not care to lose it because he’d behaved unprofessionally while on assignment.
She wasn’t helping, though, with her little gasps of delight as she scrolled through the pictures. The noises she made sounded way too much like a woman responding to a lover. Knowing how joyfully she embraced life, he imagined she’d be equally joyful when she made love.
“Oh, Ben, these are great!” She clicked to the next frame and sucked in a breath. “Look at those blue eyes. All Siamese are stunning, but Hyacinth has the most amazing eyes.”
So do you, Tansy. But he couldn’t say that now, and probably not ever.
Eventually she got to the dog section. At one point she actually moaned with happiness. “Wonderful. Just wonderful. You have such a talent.”
He’d been told he had talents in other areas, too, but he’d bet money that kind of expertise wasn’t Tansy’s top priority. Openness would be important to her, and he wasn’t a tell-all kind of guy.
So he fought his natural response to being achingly close to her. Anyone would think he hadn’t been with a woman in quite a while. And anyone would be right.
Yes, he’d been out of the dating scene for a few months, but that wasn’t the problem. He wasn’t some sex-starved adolescent who couldn’t go without it. His current need was specifically for Tansy.
He wanted to kiss her until they were both senseless with desire. They had obvious chemistry, so that part of their relationship would go just fine. It was the pillow talk that scared the devil out of him.
As he battled his demons, he was startled by the orange tabby, Max. The cat appeared from nowhere and jumped into his lap. Ben spoke without thinking, giving an automatic response ingrained years ago. “Get down, Mickey.” He realized his mistake immediately. “I mean, Max.”
Tansy’s head whipped around and her eyes grew wide. “He’s on your lap.”
“So it seems.” He started to remove the cat.
“Ben, you don’t understand. I’ve never seen him get onto someone’s lap. Could you...could you let him stay there for a little while? I want to encourage that behavior.”
“I guess.” So instead of lifting the cat down to the floor, he began stroking him. Max purred and kneaded his claws into the denim of Ben’s jeans.
“That’s amazing. He’s acting like a regular cat.”
Using both hands, Ben caressed Max in a remembered pattern, beginning at his chin and working his way to the base of his tail. “He probably was a regular cat before something happened to make him unfriendly.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” She regarded him silently for a few seconds. “What did you call him when he first jumped up?”
“Oh.” He threw the explanation out in an offhanded way. “I used to have a cat who looked a lot like Max. His name was Mickey. I was concentrating on the pictures and had a memory lapse.”
“What happened to Mickey?”
“Got hit by a car. The vet tried to save him, but he was hurt too bad.” Twelve years later, and he still hated thinking about that day. So he didn’t until forced to, like now.
“I’m sorry.”
Fortifying himself against the sympathy he knew he’d find there, he looked into her blue eyes. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago, and he was ten. That’s not so bad for a cat.”
“But not so good for the person who loved him.”
“I got over it.”
She gazed at him for a moment longer before glancing away. “Yes, I’m sure you did.”
She didn’t believe him. And that meant more questions would follow. Damn it.
CHAPTER FOUR
TANSY SOMETIMES FORGOT people, but she never forgot an animal, especially when that animal was connected to tragedy. Now she r
emembered why Ben was familiar. He’d been the sobbing teenager who’d brought his one-eyed orange tabby to the vet’s office where she’d volunteered after school.
But she didn’t think he’d appreciate knowing that she’d been the sixteen-year-old girl who’d held him while he cried that day, so she kept the information to herself. After she got home, she’d looked for him in her high school yearbook, but he hadn’t been there. He’d slipped in and out of her life without a trace.
And now, twelve years later, here he was sitting right next to her. Max continued to attach himself to Ben’s lap as if Velcroed to his jeans, while Tansy went back to exclaiming over the still shots. When they finished with those, Ben propped the camcorder on her desk and shared the videos he’d taken.
Although they both behaved as if nothing had changed, everything had changed for Tansy. The pieces of the puzzle that made up an image of Ben Rhodes were coming together. He’d said Mickey died at ten, so he’d likely had the cat since he was a young boy. Judging from the depth of his grief that day, Tansy suspected Mickey had been the only pet and possibly the best friend of a lonely boy.
After Mickey had taken his last breath, Ben had charged out the door, his face contorted with pain. Days later an envelope stuffed with cash had arrived at the vet’s office, along with a scrawled note of thanks. The vet had shown both to Tansy, but there was no return address, no phone number, no contact information at all.
With their unconditional love and devotion, it was easy for animals to become a person’s lifeline. If Mickey had been that for Ben, she could understand why Ben might have decided that loving an animal made him too vulnerable. She understood, but it made her sad.
She felt especially sad when she looked at Max, who acted as if he’d finally found his soul mate. As he sat contentedly purring on Ben’s lap, he wasn’t the same cat who refused even the slightest caress from any of the other employees and volunteers. During a break in phone calls at reception, she asked Faye to come over and witness the miracle.
Faye stared at Max in disbelief. “I’ll be damned. Ben, you must be a sorcerer. You should see what we go through when we have to bandage his tail and put on his cone.”
“I guess there’s something familiar about me.”
“I don’t think he responds to you simply because you’re a guy,” Faye said. “We’ve had other men volunteer at the shelter, and Max ignored them the way he ignores us.”
“It could be the sound of his voice or the way he smells,” Tansy said.
Ben laughed. “Must be the tuna fish oil I rub on after my shower.”
“So that’s it.” Tansy grinned at him, and they were almost back to normal with each other. But she would always look at him differently now that she knew, or thought she knew, why he avoided bonding with animals.
That decision was costing him, too, though she wasn’t sure he realized it. The way he interacted with animals revealed how much he hungered for the connection he denied himself out of fear. Yet she had no idea how to fix the situation.
If she asked him to take Max home for the Christmas holidays, he probably would say no. On the other hand, what did she have to lose? She might as well find out exactly how rigid he was on this matter.
The shelter phone line started ringing. “I need to answer that,” Faye said. “But don’t move. I want a picture of Max sitting on your lap. If I tell the others, they’ll think I’ve been smoking funny cigarettes.”
Tansy and Ben finished up the videos before Faye reappeared, brandishing her camera phone. “I’m emailing this to a bunch of people who know how much of a grouch Max is.” She aimed the phone at the cat. “They’ll accuse me of using Photoshop.”
Ben glanced at her. “He’s really never been on anybody’s lap? That’s so hard to believe.”
“It’s as if he doesn’t trust us enough,” Tansy said. “We’ve tried playing with him, giving him treats, catnip, you name it. He tolerates us, but barely.”
Faye took another picture with her phone. “Maybe he was just waiting for the right person to show up. None of us were the right person. You are.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not—”
“How about just for the Christmas holidays?” Tansy didn’t want to give him a chance to finish the sentence that would end all hope. “You heard my pitch at KFOR. There’s no expense other than some food and litter, and no obligation. If you could socialize Max, he would be more adoptable. You could help him find a true home.”
Ben met her gaze. “I wish I could help you, but I can’t.”
Anger stirred in her. “You mean you won’t.”
“All right. I won’t.” Gripping Max firmly, he pried the cat from his thigh and set him on the floor. When Max crouched as if ready to spring back into his lap, he quickly stood. Max rubbed against the leg of his jeans and continued to purr.
It broke Tansy’s heart. She stood and faced him. “Can’t you see how much he wants to be with you?”
Ben lowered his voice. “Sorry, Tansy, but I’m not taking Max home with me. I don’t want an animal in my house, and besides, I have plans. I’m going skiing with friends over Christmas.”
Faye suddenly found chores to handle at her desk.
Taking a deep breath, Tansy curbed her anger. Having an animal did complicate travel plans. No denying it. But animal lovers usually decided the rewards were worth the bother.
Clearly, Ben didn’t feel that way, and no good would come of challenging his attitude. He’d spent the morning taking pictures that might help several animals be adopted. Sure, he’d been paid to do it, but he’d thrown himself into the project, and because of his enthusiasm he’d come up with some wonderful shots.
She cleared her throat. “You’re right. Sorry. It’s never a good idea to coerce a person into taking an animal, even if it’s only for a trial period.”
“No, it’s not.”
Doing her best to ignore Max’s desperate bid for attention from his idol, Tansy focused on the business at hand. “Your pictures are fabulous. I know the station owns them, but if they’d be willing to let me use a few for The Haven’s Facebook page, I’d be very grateful.”
“I’ll check with Paul.” Ben put on his sheepskin coat. “I’m sure you can work something out.”
She turned back to her desk and retrieved his hat. “I’d appreciate it.”
He looked at the cat at his feet. “If for some reason he doesn’t want to give you any pictures, I could come back on my own time and take some for you.” He put on the hat and tugged the brim over his eyes before picking up both cameras.
Although she longed to fling the generous offer in his face, she couldn’t afford to do that. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”
“I’ll be in touch.” As he walked away, Max trotted after him.
“Max, no.” Tansy followed behind and scooped up the cat. Max twisted and growled his displeasure. “You can’t go,” she murmured into his orange fur. “He doesn’t want you.”
And if Ben didn’t want Max, then Tansy didn’t want Ben. Simple as that.
* * *
BEN KNEW HE’D GONE from hero to jerk in sixty seconds. But what was he supposed to do? He fumed about it all the way back to the station and for days afterward. He kept picturing the flare of anger in Tansy’s eyes when she’d said, You mean you won’t.
But he hadn’t been born yesterday. She was a pro at this adoption game. She knew as well as he did that once he allowed Max into his home and into his heart, the cat would be there for life—Max’s life, which would probably be short. Ben wasn’t going through that again.
If Tansy had immunized herself against that pain, then bully for her. She was definitely in the right line of work. So was he, for that matter. While she was comfortable with the passing of time, he was in the business of freezing it.
The im
ages he captured with his camera stayed that way. The playful cats and the bouncy dogs would be young forever in the pictures he’d created. Maybe he was denying reality, but he didn’t care. His decisions worked for him.
He’d be wise to forget Tansy Dexter. She wanted too much of him, and would make him more vulnerable than any animal could.
But she wasn’t easy to forget. Besides his own vivid memories, he was assaulted by promo spots for The Haven. Each morning the six o’clock news included a chart showing the number of animals with temporary homes for the holidays and the progress toward reaching the financial goal necessary to build another Kitty Condo.
Both campaigns were going well, which made for a feel-good Christmas atmosphere in the newsroom. Ben was happy for Tansy that the public awareness campaign was working, but he’d be so glad when Christmas was over and he wasn’t being constantly reminded of her.
They’d had one email exchange since he’d left the shelter that Saturday morning. On Monday, he’d sent her a file containing the shots Paul had released to her for The Haven’s Facebook page and website. She’d responded with her gratitude, copying Paul. But he knew the warmth in the email was for Paul and not for him, though. Although Tansy occupied his thoughts most of the time, Max wasn’t far from his mind, either. The cantankerous cat would spend Christmas day alone in that office, no doubt. No one would volunteer to take him home, and he probably wouldn’t want to go with them, even if they did.
Max had his preference and it happened to be Ben, or somebody very much like him. His adoration was touching, and Ben had spent more hours than he cared to admit searching through his contacts looking for somebody who might fit a similar profile. He wasn’t that unique. But he hadn’t found a good match.
With all his effort to push Tansy out of his mind, he’d also forgotten the angel card he’d shoved in his coat pocket. On Thursday morning he pulled his gloves out of his pocket and the card he’d plucked from The Haven’s tree came out, too, badly crumpled.
Taking the card had been an impulse, but he still wanted to honor it. He wasn’t interested in adoption, but there were other ways he could support the animals. After the way they had parted on Saturday, returning with gifts might seem like he was trying to get back on Tansy’s good side, but he couldn’t help that.
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