“They were more artistic than that,” she protested. “But no, thank you, I don’t think it’s for me. I’m too shy and retiring.” Not entirely true, but she’d come to dislike the idea of putting herself on display for any reason.
Eric opened his mouth as though to say something, but changed his mind. She almost pressed him, but refrained; she was afraid she knew what he would have said. You’d look beautiful.
Steph popped up with a comment just then, and they left the arena with the girls, any private conversation impossible. On the way home Eric put Madeline at her ease by asking when she was doing the next adoption day. Here she was on confident ground; as he’d said himself, the way they felt about animals was the one thing they did have in common.
“Tomorrow,” she told him. “That big new pet-supply store in north Everett, near the Safeway. They don’t sell animals, bless their hearts. Eleven to three. I’ll be surprised if I don’t place eight or ten kittens and turn down half a dozen people who want one just because it’s little and cute. You know, the kind that lose interest when the poor animal has the nerve to grow up.”
“Yeah, the ones who dump their pets out on a deserted road and figure they can take care of themselves.”
“I’d like to ‘take care of the former owners,” she said.
He looked at her with interest. “Do you think you’re successful in screening out that kind of person?”
“Reasonably.” She wrinkled her nose. “I know we mess up sometimes, because someone I thought was really nice will end up bringing a cat back for the worst reasons. But most of the time…well, I hope. The best way to judge is by asking about the animals they’ve owned in the past. If their nineteen-year-old cat died of kidney failure six months ago and now they’re done with their mourning enough to be ready to choose another one, I can be pretty sure they’ll be good owners. On the other hand, if they used to have cats but are vague about what happened to them, I tend to make excuses.” She sighed. “I just hope that tomorrow a few people come along who are willing to consider an adult cat. I have a couple of especially nice ones.”
His mouth crooked. “I’ll bet you always say that.”
“Well—” Madeline laughed “—maybe. The trouble is, we always have a dozen or more waiting for adoption, and I like them all. People dump the sweetest animals. I just don’t get it.”
“I don’t get it, either.” He was silent for a moment. “Maybe I’ll stop by. I’m off tomorrow. Can I bring you lunch?”
A shiver of something between fear and anticipation traveled up her spine. He was pursuing her. And she still didn’t know why.
“I usually skip it when I’m doing an adoption. Too busy talking. But that would be nice if you keep it simple. A bagel with cream cheese or a hamburger….”
He gave her a sidelong amused glance. “Oh, come on, you must want the milk shake and fries and onion rings and apple pie to go with it, don’t you?”
She punched his arm. “I’m not that big a pig!”
“Did I use that word?”
“I know I ate a lot today. But I don’t always. I’m like…like a big cat in the wild. When I eat, I stuff, then I go a long time before I eat again.”
“Right.”
“You don’t believe me.”
He grinned. “Yeah, actually I do. If you ate like you did today all the time, you’d be built like that cat at the shelter.”
Not beautiful was what he meant. A hot spurt of temper made her retort too sharply, “Jackson is handsome. Stately.”
“From a medical standpoint, obese.”
“So he’s ugly, I suppose.”
Eric raised a brow. “I didn’t realize we were talking aesthetics here. I didn’t say he wasn’t handsome. Sure he is. But he’s still fat. He eats too much. You obviously don’t. I wasn’t implying anything else.”
He sounded exasperated and she didn’t blame him. She’d gotten paranoid, assuming the entire world was focused on appearances because the part of it she’d grown up in was. And, she reminded herself, because most men seemed focused on women’s figures and faces. Including Eric Bergstrom. Still…
“You’re right,” she admitted. “He’s fat.”
“Saints be praised! The woman conceded a point!”
“Do I detect some sarcasm?”
“Never.” He put on the turn signal. “This street?”
A moment later they pulled up in front of her tiny old house, a source of great pride and joy to her. Like the others on this block, it had been built as company housing by one of the giant lumber mills in the early years of the century. The houses had eventually become shabby, mostly rentals; a few had been razed to make way for bigger houses or, down at the corner, a five-unit apartment building. But now most of the ones along her street were being restored to their former charm by young families or single professionals who commuted to Bellevue or Seattle daily. Madeline, had painted hers sea-foam green with white trim. A white picket fence marked the boundaries of her front yard. She loved that white picket fence. She’d always wanted one.
Today it represented refuge.
“Thanks,” she said, hand on the door handle. “I had a great time.”
Formidably handsome, Eric smiled. “I’ll walk you up.”
A flutter of panic raised her voice an octave. “Oh, you don’t have to.”
Now that smile had become implacable. “I want to.”
He was going to kiss her. She knew it. And she wasn’t ready, hadn’t the slightest idea how she’d respond, how she should respond. Dear God, how had she let herself get so out of practice, so…naive?
But it was too late to argue; he was already out of the pickup and circling the front. Hastily she scrambled down. Heaven forbid that he think she was waiting for him to help her out. By the time she slammed the passenger-side door, Eric had opened her front gate, which passed under a white-painted arch covered with a tangle of honeysuckle and royal purple clematis.
On the way up the walk, Madeline unzipped her waist pack and grabbed her keys. She had the door unlocked and open before she turned to face Eric. One cat hopped from the porch railing to rub her ankle and go in; two others shot out of the house and down the steps as though they were convicts escaping the joint.
Only peripherally aware of the feline activity, Madeline said, “I really did have a lovely time today. Thanks.”
He took a step closer; as if they were dancing, she took one back. Creases formed between his brows and then he inclined his head, as though acknowledging her wishes.
“Unless something comes up, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Madeline agreed and, refusing to let herself watch him as he headed down the walk, gently closed the door. Safely alone, she let out her breath with a long shuddering whoosh.
He was a stubborn man. She hadn’t deliberately set out to be difficult, but she knew she was. Why wasn’t he calling one of the many single women out there who would be delighted to date Dr. Eric Bergstrom, who would be eager for his kisses?
Why her?
And how would she feel if he did give up, if he didn’t show tomorrow and didn’t call again?
ERIC OPENED his door to find Hannah sitting just inside, gazing up at him with patient eyes. Waiting. There was something so trusting about her and yet also so vulnerable that a rush of painful feelings filled his chest. He knelt and picked her up.
“I’m home, Hannah,” he murmured. “It’s okay. I’ll come home every day and you’ll be here every day. Forever and ever. I promise. Got it?” All the while he stroked, his fingers finding the places that brought forth a contented purr.
“You know something, sweetie?” He set her on the floor.
She looked up at him, the end of her gray-andcream tail swishing, as though she were asking, “What?”
“Madeline Howard reminds me of you. It’s the eyes. She wants to trust me, too, but she doesn’t. And she’s less willing to try than you are.”
Damned if he knew why he cared, why he was f
ighting his way through her occasionally thorny defenses. The easy answer was that he wanted her; she was a beautiful woman, and his body reacted to the very sight of her—a smile, the way she tipped her head, the long graceful line of her back—with a hunger that went deeper than it ought when he hardly knew her.
But there was something else. Pity, maybe, he thought, but felt disturbed at the idea. Sympathy might be a better way to put it. She seemed lonely. Occasionally she’d start talking, as she had that day about her mother, but he sensed that she rarely opened up about herself.
Or maybe, he conceded wryly, he just liked the idea of being her savior, as he was Hannah’s.
Whatever the reason, he wouldn’t let a few scratches keep him from trying to get to know her. Tomorrow was as good a time as any. Besides, he looked forward to seeing her work her magic on the innocent pet owners who set out to shop with no intention of acquiring another cat.
He arrived, lunch in hand, just about noon the next day. The setup at the store was terrific, he saw immediately as the automatic doors glided shut behind him. Just inside to the left was a glassed-in room with cages, much like those used by pet stores that sold cats and dogs. This one was for the exclusive use of shelters like Ten Lives.
A dozen or more cats filled the cages. A banner that proclaimed the shelter’s name draped a long table outside the glassed-in room. A volunteer sat behind it, earnestly talking to a young couple who had a Sheltie on a leash. Madeline was inside the glassed-in room, her back to him, a cat slung over her shoulder. She was simultaneously petting and gesticulating, and he saw the balding man she spoke to laugh.
Twenty feet away from the table the greyhoundrescue organization had set up for their own adoption day. Five of the large elegant dogs lay peacefully on blankets, while their handlers sat chatting with shoppers interested in knowing more about the racing greyhounds culled from the track. Eric had done some vet work for the organization; he admired the effort they made saving these dogs that would otherwise have been euthanized when they didn’t run fast enough.
Eric nodded at the volunteer behind the table, who smiled brightly and said, “Go right in. The cats love to be visited.”
He didn’t correct her impression that he might be the next sucker to take a cat. No, he thought, amused, he was the last sucker. He’d already taken his cat home.
He pushed open the door, and Madeline spotted him immediately. She gave him a quick smile, flashing dimples, but her gaze returned to the balding man, her hand never stopping its stroking of the Russian blue that lounged in her arms. Lucky cat.
Even the black jeans and the T-shirt that, below the picture of a grumpy cat, said, “I am smiling,” couldn’t hide her subtle curves and natural grace. Her hair was wound into a knot on the crown of her head, but tendrils were escaping to curl over her forehead and along her slender neck. Eric’s hands itched to brush them back, coincidentally feeling the silk of her skin and the pulse beneath.
The balding guy, his back to Eric, was still talking. Eric tuned in at the point where he was saying, “That cat spent every day on the back of the couch staring at the bird in its cage. Worried us, I can tell you. But darned if we didn’t come home one day from work and find that bird loose and the cat cowering under the bed. He never went near the cage again. We figure the bird spent the day dive-bombing him.”
Madeline’s laugh rang out and Eric smiled in pleasure at the sound. How had a woman who liked people and animals as much as she did become so guarded much of the time?
“Well, I’m not sure Misty here would ever bestir herself enough to contemplate eating a bird. If you want a lap cat, she’s for you, but don’t count on her chasing toys or mousing in your garden shed.”
“You say she’s five or six?”
“That’s our best guess.” Madeline handed over the cat, who wrapped her front legs around the man’s forearm and settled in cozily.
He bowed his head, looking down at her. After a moment he said in a low gruff voice, “Since the wife passed away, my place seems so empty. Our last cat was hers more than mine. He was nineteen when he died. Her health wasn’t too good by then, so we didn’t replace him, but now…”
“Cats are wonderful company,” Madeline said gently.
“Well…all right.” He turned and Eric could see his face. He smiled ruefully down at the gray cat, which was purring nonstop. Misty knew which side her bread was buttered on. “I’ll take her.”
Madeline reached for a flattened cardboard carrier and said, “You won’t be sorry. She’s a honey. Let me set this up for you to take Misty home in. I do have some paperwork for you, but it won’t take long.”
The fellow, perhaps in his midsixties, filled out the form, wrote a check and took a shopping cart off to load up on cat food and litter. In her carrier, Misty went with him, presumably so she could be consulted. Eric suspected that some catnip and a plush bed and maybe an elaborate carpeted scratching post would be included in the final tab. Love made a man want to open his wallet.
Madeline introduced Eric to the other volunteer, a young woman named Linda, who then left to run a quick errand. Things had quieted down, so once Linda was gone Madeline and Eric sat down behind the table and opened the bags he’d brought.
“You did buy a milk shake!” She sounded delighted.
“Chocolate okay?”
“Chocolate is nirvana.”
They’d adopted out two cats already, she told him, a six-month-old kitten to a couple who wanted a companion for one they already had, and now Misty.
“Misty liked him, I could tell,” she said contentedly. “Nice guy. He’s stopped to look at the cats and chat before. I knew that eventually he’d fall for one. He gave us a hundred dollars.”
A skinny blond girl, maybe ten years old, darted in the automatic doors and up to the table. “Do you have any kittens today?” she asked anxiously.
“A whole litter.” Madeline pointed through the glass behind her.
“Oh!” A radiant smile lit the girl’s face. “I’ll be right back!”
Sure enough, in less than a minute she was hauling her parents through the doors. They looked willing enough, however, and a younger girl clutching Mom’s hand was bouncing in eagerness. They all poured into the room, followed by Madeline, who gave a last wistful look at her half-eaten cheeseburger.
Eric watched through the glass, unable to hear the conversation but able to tell what was happening. They picked out one kitten right away, a playful black one with white feet that he remembered neutering just that week. It appeared that the girls liked an orange tabby, also, but the mother preferred a second black-and-white one. The kittens got passed around between family members, while Madeline hovered protectively. Eventually they settled on the black-and-white female, and Madeline gently deposited the two kittens in another carrier. Her hand lingered inside for a moment before she closed the top.
“And you’ve already bought everything you need?” Madeline was asking as she pushed open the door and came out with the family behind her.
“Yes, we’ve been looking for kittens for a couple of weeks. A farm had some, but they had runny noses,” the mother said, “and so I wasn’t sure…”
“Probably just a cold, but you never know.” Madeline sat down beside Eric and began explaining Ten Lives’s procedures and expectations. “We do ask that you not declaw cats you get from us, but I already told you that, didn’t I?”
The mother began filling out the form. “Yes, but we wouldn’t do it, anyway. It must be painful.”
The youngest kid squatted and poked her finger in a hole in the side of the carrier. She giggled. “His whiskers tickle!”
“You’ll have fun with them,” Madeline said, smiling at the child. “These two are really playful.”
Linda arrived back just then and went into the glassed-in room with a man in a business suit
The family left with their kittens, and Madeline shot to her feet. “Tell Linda I’ll be back in a minute,” she said, and
hurried away. Her voice had sounded a little choked, and after only a brief hesitation, Eric went after her.
Already well down the aisle between displays of dog toys and bowls, she turned and disappeared. At the back of the store, he saw a hall that said, “Rest rooms,” and then beyond, “Employees Only.” On a hunch, Eric pushed through the “Employees Only” door. Inside was a huge stockroom, deserted but for Madeline, who stood with her back to him.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She swung to face him, and he saw she was crying. She wiped her eyes, blew her nose firmly, then nodded. “I fostered those kittens, you know.” She sniffed. “It’s dumb, but I cry every time I place one I’ve had at home. I feel like I’m giving away my own cats.”
He stepped forward and carefully wiped away some fresh tears that clung to her lower lashes. “Yeah, but thanks to you they have a chance at a good life.”
“I know.” She blinked hard. “It’s worth a few tears. But I’d just as soon no one saw.”
“Including me?” With a will of their own, his hands closed on her shoulders, but he resisted drawing her into his arms.
She gazed up at him, eyes huge and shimmering. “No.” Her voice was just audible. “You understand, don’t you?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Now he did pull her close.
She laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist. For a moment she relaxed completely, and he moved his mouth against her hair, reveling in its life and vibrancy, in her momentary trust.
When she lifted her head, she didn’t step back. Triumph and wanting surged in him, but tangled with nervousness he didn’t understand. He didn’t stop to try. Instead, he bent his head and kissed her.
CHAPTER FIVE
MADELINE STIFFENED momentarily, but couldn’t make herself back away. He brushed her mouth again, moved to her eyelids where he kissed away the tears, then went back to the beginning. The way he nibbled gently at her lower lip felt amazingly sensual. It made her want more—more pressure, more heat, more…something. She hardly knew what.
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