Taking a Chance

by Maggie McGinnis

  “Maybe, but you’re the one feeding it to him, so right now, he likes you.”

  She smiled, cuddling the kitten closer. “I’ll take it.” Then she leaned over the basket, where the others were waking. “Uh-oh. This is going to get loud in a minute.”

  “Yup.”

  “How do you coordinate feeding all six of them?” Her eyes widened as the mewing cranked up a notch. “Because yikes. They’re hungry.”

  “I manage.”

  He did. With the help of a color-coded feeding schedule provided by Hayley the vet, but hey, he hadn’t screwed up the instructions once yet.

  His kitten finished her bottle, so he set her down and scooped up another one, trading bottles quickly. Emma’s kitten sucked down his last drops at just about the same time, but she seemed reluctant to put him back into the basket.

  “Can he just lie here while I feed the next one?” She pointed at her lap, where the kitten had already curled up comfortably.

  “If you’re coordinated enough to pay attention to both of them, go for it.”

  “I’ll be careful.” She smiled, then pulled another kitten out of the basket, getting the bottle into his mouth like she’d been doing it for years. In response, the cat curled his paws around her wrist, holding on for dear life while he sucked greedily on the bottle.

  “Watch yourself.” He used his chin to indicate her wrist. “Their claws are like little needles.”

  “Their claws are completely adorable. And their noses. Omigod, their little noses!” She petted the kitten in her lap with her left hand while she steadied the other with her right. “How could someone just leave these on someone’s porch?”

  “Probably because it’s the cat’s third litter this year and they’ve had enough of kittens.”

  “I suppose pointing out that there are surgical solutions here isn’t helpful?”

  “Not to whoever dropped them off. Probably can’t afford to spay the cat. But at least they brought them to someone they knew would take care of them. Better than the alternatives I imagine they considered first.”

  Emma’s face fell as she cuddled both kittens closer. “That’s terrible.”

  “Yeah, but it’s reality. When you have trouble feeding the human mouths in your house, adding six kittens to the mix just isn’t feasible.”

  “So this area? Not as idyllic as it looks? Not everyone’s living the fairy tale out here?”

  “A lot of people are. And I’d put Carefree up against any town in the country for quality of life. It would win. But yeah. Not everything’s as rosy as the surface presents. That’s just reality.”

  “Mm-hm.” She nodded slowly, like she wasn’t terribly surprised. “Florida’s sort of a study in extremes, as well.”

  “Are you about to mess with the tourism board’s message again?”

  She smiled. “No. It’s just as beautiful as the pictures. But there’s a lot of poverty, and the crime rate’s high in places. There’s an entire forest in central Florida where hundreds of homeless families live. And then you travel the two coasts and see millions of dollars in boats and houses and glitz and glitter.”

  Jasper traded kittens, putting his back into the basket with her sister, then picking up the last one, who was about to break the sound barrier with her mewing. Once he got her settled in his lap with her bottle, he looked over at Emma, whose hair had fallen softly over her shoulder, obscuring half of her face.

  She’d pulled one of the soft washcloths out of the basket, and she now held a bottle for one kitten while two others vied for space on her lap. She giggled softly as they batted at each other, then uttered some version of a curse when one almost toppled off her lap.

  “Eesh. I don’t know how you’ve been doing this all by yourself for a week.”

  “Helps that I don’t have to go to an office. And I’ve got a couple of teenagers working the morning shift for me in the café, so they’ve helped out a little.”

  “How often do they need to eat overnight?”

  He chuckled, pointing his free hand at his eyes. “You see these dark circles? That’s how often.”

  She laughed. “You look pretty good for a dad with six newborns, though. Gotta say.”

  “Thank you.” He rolled his eyes, but inside, a familiar slice of pain rocketed through his gut. “Thankfully these guys will be self-sufficient before too long.”

  “You know, a couple of months ago, I was reading about a nursing home somewhere in the Midwest that partnered with a local humane society. They brought in animals once a week and let the residents hold them and pet them, and it had a super-positive impact on their states of mind.”

  “No kidding.”

  “No kidding. I think, if I remember right, there was even a story about kittens like this. They brought them to the nursing home, and the residents just cuddled with them all day long. They fed them and everything until they were ready to be adopted.”

  “That sounds like an excellent program.”

  “It was.” She nodded, then he saw her jaw harden. “I proposed doing a trial run of it in one of our homes, but my supervisor was not in favor of it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Health regulations.” She rolled her eyes. “Allergies and dirt and peeing and pooping.”

  “Well, I guess those are fairly legitimate concerns.”

  “Maybe, but when you weigh them against the benefits? Not even a contest. I tried three different proposals, and they were nixed every single time.”

  “I’m sorry. Sounds frustrating.”

  “It is. It really, really is.”

  “Happen a lot, this nixing thing?”

  She shook her head. “You have no idea.”

  “Well, my dad still lives at a place that sounds like a graveyard, even though you tried to rename it, so I have some idea.”

  She laughed. “I guess you do.”

  He bounced his eyebrows. “Ever try the ask-forgiveness-later approach? Instead of the ask-permission-before one?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if you keep coming up with perfectly legitimate, well-researched ideas that keep getting shot down, aren’t you ever tempted to say screw you and just make something happen, then show them what a great idea it was?”

  “No. I’m—I don’t think that would go over very well with this management crew. And I really like my job. Also, I need it. I’m dismally unqualified to do anything else.”

  “Except get lost in the pyramids.”

  “Exactly.” She smiled like she was secretly thrilled he’d remembered their earlier conversation. “And I can handle Florida heat, but I really don’t think I can handle Egyptian-style scorching.”

  “Well, I’m not sure how brave you’re feeling, out here all by your lonesome with no particular management oversight, but it might be an excellent time for a little experiment.”

  “I was expressly forbidden from doing any experimentation while I’m out here.”

  Jasper narrowed his eyes, studying her, unable to comprehend what was so threatening about this woman or her ideas that someone would be constantly shutting her down.

  “Sounds to me like maybe somebody’s afraid you’ll skip a ladder rung and step on his head on your way by.”

  “Huh?” She looked up, her eyebrows drawn together like she had no idea what he could possibly be talking about.

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Just seems to me you have some pretty good ideas, and it also seems to me that someone’s been pretty good at never letting those ideas out of the gate, even though they’re things that are being researched and used in other places, with good results. So it begs the question—why is someone so threatened by your ideas?”

  “Oh, I don’t think he’s threatened. He just—I don’t know—doesn’t like them.”

  “Well, he’s an idiot.”

  She sputtered out a surprised laugh. “He’s actually a very smart man.”

  “If you say so. I stand by the
idiot thing for now, though. And also…I have an idea.”

  Chapter 13

  “Oh, boy. I wish that didn’t scare me.”

  Jasper pointed to her lap. “I have kittens.”

  “Yes, Captain Obvious. Yes, you do.”

  “And you have a nursing home.”

  She sat back, turning her head away from him. “Oh, no, you don’t. No, no, no. We are not bringing your kittens into my temporary nursing home.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they’re not allowed? There are rules?”

  “And you don’t break rules?”

  She was silent for a long moment, and he saw a hundred thoughts cross her face as she frowned.

  “I don’t. No.” When she finally spoke, her words were clipped, like he’d hit a frayed, exposed nerve.

  Oops.

  Time for a topic change.

  “Okay. Well, if you change your mind, I’ll have these guys for another six weeks or so. And I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” She paused, petting the kittens in her lap. “Question for you—what’s Bette like?”

  “Total rule-breaker.”

  “I figured.”

  “How did you come to that conclusion already?”

  She leveled him with a look. “Have you seen the woman’s office? She hasn’t filed anything but legally required paperwork in who knows how long. I can’t tell if she purposely avoids it, or if she hasn’t done it in so long, she’s forgotten she’s supposed to.”

  “I imagine if she’s not filing it, she doesn’t think it’s important enough to waste her time on.”

  “Great. That’s encouraging.”

  “She can’t be the only one who doesn’t get paperwork done.”

  “No.” Emma shook her head. “But she’s a little bit famous in the home office for how little she does get done.”

  “Aha. So is part of your assignment here about this? About Bette’s performance?”

  He tried to keep the suspicion and touch of anger out of his voice, but come on. The woman worked eighty-hour weeks, knew every resident’s favorite cookie, flower, and grandchild, and had a staff that would bend over backward for her. She might suck at paperwork, but she was doing the right things right.

  “No. It’s not at all about that. I promise.”

  He tipped his head, trying to read her, and she raised her eyebrows in response.

  “I’m here only because she’s out for surgery and recovery. And they chose me because—well, because I had the right qualifications for the job.” She paused. Then she put up one finger at a time as she made a list. “Single, childless, and able to pick up and be on a plane in three days flat.”

  He smiled. “I imagine a little bit more than that played into the decision.”

  “You might be surprised.” She cringed. “But I definitely shouldn’t be saying that to the son of one of my residents, should I?”

  “Probably not.”

  She was quiet for a long moment, cuddling the kittens. Then she looked around the room like she was seeing it for the first time.

  “So is this your actual home? Right here?”

  “Yes and no. I just recently redid this room. It used to be a big old kitchen, back when this was an actual restaurant. But the appliances were shot, and I have no plans to cook anything more than coffee here, so I cleared it all out and turned it into—well, this. But I actually live upstairs. There’s a three-bedroom apartment on the second floor.”

  He purposely used the word apartment to downplay his home above the café. The reality was that it was two thousand square feet of high ceilings, polished hardwood floors, and huge windows with a view of the northern Rockies that had sold him on the place long before he’d fallen in love with the idea of running his own coffee shop.

  “Well, that’s convenient.”

  “It’s vital. Especially since I start brewing at five o’clock in the morning. My first customer shows up at five-thirty on the dot, every single morning. If her coffee isn’t ready, heads will roll, and not just mine.”

  Emma laughed. “Sounds like she has you well trained.”

  “Nope. She’s just a really nice woman, and she needs her coffee in order to stay a nice woman—her words, not mine—so I do what I can. I get a bunch of guys in between her and seven o’clock, and then tourists for the next couple of hours. Then I come up to have breakfast with Dad.”

  “After you feed the munchkins here?”

  “Right.” He rolled his eyes. “Lately, yes. After that.”

  “Better schedule than your courtroom days?”

  “Not even in the same universe.”

  “What made you stop practicing law?”

  She put the question out there, innocently, like they were just having your average getting-to-know-you conversation, but it was a question that had razor blades sticking out all over the damn place, and he never quite knew how to walk the line between the truth and—well, the other truth.

  “I needed a change,” he said. He’d go with the benign answer.

  “What kind of law did you practice?”

  “Corporate finance.”

  “No way.” She studied him for a second, then looked back at the kittens in her lap. “Did you like it?”

  He put down his kitten and gathered the bottles, stalling. “I did at first, yeah. It was exciting. I was in L.A. courtrooms two weeks a month, making headlines and climbing that ladder, and it was all great. I loved the energy of it, the high of winning, the thrill of watching my name jump higher on the firm’s list.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I—well—I got caught up on the hamster wheel. Lost sight of what was important. So…I got off.”

  “Simple as that?”

  He paused. “No. Nothing is as simple as that.”

  “I figured.” She looked back down, focusing on the kittens. “So what brought you here to Montana?”

  Grief. Loss. Abject heartbreak.

  “A variety of things.”

  “And has it worked out?”

  He didn’t answer for a long moment, considering her question. Then he pictured the man he’d been when he’d rolled into town five years ago, a cracked shell of a pathetic mess.

  “It’s a process,” he finally said. “But so far, so good. This place has a way of creeping into your bones and making you stay. I didn’t necessarily plan to, back when I arrived.”

  “Well, it is pretty beautiful out here. I’ll give you that.”

  “Yeah. It definitely is. But it’s a lot more than the physical beauty that draws people here and makes them want to stay.”

  “Are you going to say something saccharine-ish about the people now? How they surround you with their goodness and light and make you never want to leave?”

  He smiled. “Something like that.”

  “Because cults are like that. I mean, I’m just saying.”

  The way she raised her eyebrows like an ancient librarian, combined with her words, made him laugh out loud.

  “Not a cult in sight. Promise.”

  “Ah.” She nodded. “But those who’ve been drawn in don’t realize they have been until it’s too late.”

  “Well, then I guess it’s already too late to save me from myself. You should probably flee before the power of the mountains and the water get to you, too.”

  “Very funny.”

  “You’ll see, Emma. Even a jaded, thinks-she-knows-everything-about-life Florida girl can find a new lease on life up here.”

  “I’m not a jaded—” Her eyes widened, but then she smiled. “Okay, I’ll give you jaded. But I definitely don’t give you the other half.”

  “I’ll take that part back, then.”

  He watched her for a second, an idea taking shape in his head. It wasn’t a new one, really—but it was growing legs fast.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “Paperwork.”

  “That’s criminal. Have you
heard the weather report?”

  “I refuse to look.”

  He smiled. “I’ll make you a deal. Do your paperwork in the morning, and then let me take you out to Whisper Creek for the afternoon.”

  “Ah. Whisper Creek again.”

  “Source of the calendars. Just saying.” He lifted one eyebrow. “You could see the cowboys up close and personal.”

  “Eh.” She shrugged. “Not sure I’ve ever been much of a cowboy person.”

  “Have you ever met a real one?”

  “Nope.”

  He laughed. “Then you speak from a place of no experience.”

  “And you’re offering me experience?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll book us a couple of horses for the afternoon, and by the time we get back, you’ll be wanting one of your own.”

  He watched emotions cross her face, but he couldn’t read them as she sighed quietly and put the kittens back in the basket, one by one.

  “I wish I could. I do. But I have reams of work to do up at Shady Acres, and it won’t get done if I’m out on a horse.”

  “Will the place fall down if you’re out on a horse?”

  “Of course not. But it’s not that easy. I’m trying really hard to make a good impression on the powers-that-be, and taking off for an afternoon when I should be working isn’t really the best way to do that.”

  “Are you expected to work all weekend? Because I’m pretty sure every morning this week, I’ve seen your crappy—sorry—rental car in the lot when I get there, and I’m also pretty sure it’s just about the last one to leave at night.”

  “It’s just—temporary.” Her mouth turned downward at the edges as she said the word. “I don’t necessarily work these kinds of hours at home.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Oh, put your eyebrows back down. Did you not work these kinds of hours when you were climbing the ladder at your law firm?”

  He was silent, feeling the knives slice into his ribs as he remembered those years. “Yes. I worked those kinds of hours. But I paid a price.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “And that higher rung wasn’t worth that price. Not in the least.”

  Her eyes went serious as she scanned his face, and somehow he knew, just knew, she was seeing more than he wanted to reveal.

  “Okay,” she finally said. Then she stood up, brushing tiny strands of kitten hair from her pants. “I’ll go check out this Whisper Creek paradise.”