Silver Christmas

by Helen Scott Taylor

"Go and get changed for bed, Chloe." Owen forestalled his daughter's objection with a stern expression. He could foresee a very late night, so it was best she change now.

  Jennifer grabbed the chair from the corner of the bathroom and set it close to the linen closet. Owen went to load the dishwasher and returned as soon as he was done to find Chloe changed for bed, kneeling in her sleeping bag beside Jennifer's chair.

  It was so good to see mother and daughter together, a dream Owen had thought would never come true. He was so engrossed in watching his daughter with her mum, he nearly missed the first kitten being born.

  "There you are," Jennifer said softly. "Here comes number one." The little body came out headfirst, breaking its membrane sac as it was born. The attentive mother immediately licked her kitten and chewed through the umbilical cord.

  "That's the placenta that's come out now. We need to count those to make sure they're all delivered," Jennifer said softly.

  "Wow." Chloe rose on her knees and leaned closer to see the tiny kitten. "I can't see what color it is yet. It looks dark because it's wet."

  Owen crouched beside his daughter and put an arm around her. "Amazing, isn't it?"

  "Awesome."

  The cat strained for a few minutes then another kitten was born, and within two hours she had safely delivered five beautiful babies.

  Chloe was wriggling with impatience now. "Can we pick them up?"

  "No. We mustn't disturb them," Jennifer said. "They need to bond with their mum and start feeding." She crouched beside the box and palpated the cat's belly. "She's very tired, but there's one more to come, I think." She sat back on the chair, elbows on her knees, watching.

  The three of them waited quietly for another ten minutes as Mama Cat strained. "When will it come?" Chloe said.

  "I'm going to have to help with this last one."

  Jennifer had set a tray of things she might need at her side. She washed her hands and dried them, pulled on some sterile blue nitrile gloves, and knelt beside the cat to gently help pull out the final kitten. It emerged suddenly, a tiny still form in its fetal membrane.

  Chloe clutched Owen's arm as Jennifer broke the sac, peeled it off, and wiped the kitten's face with a soft clean cloth, using her little finger to clean out its mouth. "Is it going to be okay, Dad?"

  "I don't know, love."

  "Hopefully." Jennifer held it in one hand and rubbed its body with the towel until it gave a plaintive little cry. She finished wiping it dry, then tied off and cut the cord and laid the kitten beside its exhausted mother.

  She offered Mama Cat some water and food, and set the adult cat's dishes back outside the box where the kittens couldn't reach them.

  "There you are. Six healthy kittens. You can have a closer look as long as you don't touch them."

  Chloe didn't wait to be told twice. She was on her knees by the box immediately, gazing down at the tiny mewing bundles of fur. "They're so adorable, Dad. I want to keep them all."

  Owen chuckled and ruffled her hair. "One, cocoa puff. If the cat's owner agrees."

  "What if we can't find the cat's owner? Can we keep the mother and a kitten?"

  "We'll cross that bridge if we get to it."

  "I wish I could pick them up."

  "In a few weeks," Jennifer said.

  Owen rested a hand on the wall and smiled as the tiny creatures crawled close to their mother, little mouths seeking sustenance.

  The miracle of life never got old. He'd been mesmerized when his daughter was born, a life-changing experience. Since then he'd watched numerous animals give birth, including hundreds of goats. It would be easy to become blasé about birth when the does were having kids all the time, but it was always a magical thing to see new life come into the world.

  Now he understood why Jennifer had been so determined to qualify as a vet and spend her life working with animals. He loved that part of his job. He'd have probably enjoyed being a vet himself if he'd bothered to consider a career when he was younger, instead of wasting his time chasing girls and going to parties.

  Chapter Six

  Jennifer lay in bed, eyes closed as she tried to sleep, but the familiar ache in her side throbbed after so much bending and crouching. A fox barked somewhere in the distance, and a few moments later an owl hooted right outside her window. She gave up on sleep and picked up her phone from the nightstand to check the time.

  It was just after one a.m., an hour since she'd last checked on the cat and her newborn kittens. She'd intended to look at them every two hours during the night, but since she was awake, she might as well go and check on them now.

  She hadn't wanted to alarm Chloe, but kitten number six concerned her. She was smaller than the others, and although the mother had accepted her and she certainly had enough nipples to feed a litter of six, the runt of the litter was sometimes pushed away by the bigger siblings.

  Jennifer slipped out of bed and donned the thick sweater that Owen had loaned her over her nightgown. Putting her feet in ballet flats, she tiptoed to the bathroom and opened the door, turning on the recessed lights over the sink rather than the main light, so as not to startle the feline guests.

  "Hey there, Mama Cat. How are you and your babies doing?"

  She crouched beside the box, pressing a hand to her aching scar, and took note of where each kitten was. Four were feeding and a fifth was asleep among the others. Little number six had been pushed to the side of the box near its mother's tail, away from the warm curve of her body and the hot water bottle under the bedding.

  Jennifer picked up the frail body and the kitten mewled and wriggled. She touched the tiny pads of its feet and winced at how cold they were. Six was still okay, but wouldn't last long if she was chilled and hungry.

  Behind her the bathroom door opened, and she glanced over her shoulder. Owen stepped in, clad in his blue robe. "Is there a problem?"

  "Sorry, I didn't want to wake you." He was up at six most mornings to check in on the goats' early milking.

  She cradled the tiny kitten in her hands, holding her close and rubbing her to warm her up. "I think we'll have to bottle-feed Six to start with."

  Owen crouched at her side. "That was the last one born, the one you had to help?"

  She nodded.

  "I thought that one looked a bit small and weak."

  "She's chilled as well." Jennifer rose to her feet and Owen did too. "Will you cuddle her to warm her up while I mix the kitten formula? She needs to be warm before she feeds." Thank heavens she'd had the foresight to make a quick trip to the local pet store and pick up some formula and a nursing bottle earlier.

  "No problem." Owen parted the lapels of his robe and unbuttoned his pajama top, exposing a v-shaped section of muscular chest.

  Jennifer held her breath as he took the kitten from her hands, eased it inside his top against his skin and closed his robe, holding the tiny animal close to his warmth. She pressed her hand to her mouth and blinked, feeling a little warm herself now.

  "Shhh, little one," he said, walking slowly to and fro, gently rubbing the precious bundle.

  She stared at him, momentarily forgetting what she was about to do, tender feelings welling up inside her, almost bringing tears to her eyes. If he was trying to make her regret leaving him, he was doing a darn good job.

  He glanced up, eyebrows raised. "Are you going to fetch the bottle?"

  "Oh. Yes. Of course. Back in a few minutes." Almost light-headed with conflicting emotions and tiredness, Jennifer hurried downstairs to be greeted by Owen's two dogs, Zack and Heidi, as she entered the kitchen.

  She patted them both and sent them back to their beds by the stove, then prepared the kitten formula at the right temperature. Once done, she hurried upstairs again, hoping fifteen minutes sharing Owen's body heat would have warmed the kitten enough that it was ready to feed.

  As she approached the bathroom, she could hear Owen's voice. She paused and listened.

  "Hey, little Silver Sixpence, you'll grow into a strong,
healthy cat and have a wonderful life catching mice in the barn and putting the dogs in their place."

  Jennifer chuckled to herself as she pushed on the door. "So she's called Silver Sixpence, is she?"

  Owen cleared his throat and looked a little embarrassed as he pulled the kitten out of his top and handed her over.

  Jennifer wrapped Sixpence in a soft towel to keep her warm, and held her on her lap in the correct position to feed. She dripped a couple of drops of milk on the tiny pink tongue and smiled when Sixpence latched onto the nipple and started feeding, her tiny front paws kneading the towel on her lap.

  "I estimated her weight at three ounces to gauge the amount of milk she needs. I need to weigh her tomorrow to make sure we give her the right quantity for her stomach capacity."

  "We can weigh her on the kitchen scales." Owen sat on the side of the bathtub and watched.

  When she finished feeding Sixpence, she held the kitten up to her chest and gently rubbed the thin furry back to burp her.

  Owen changed the hot water bottle under the blankets in the cat bed while Jennifer helped the kitten relieve itself by rubbing a cotton swab on its back end. Then she laid the tiny creature in the warm box with her mother, positioning her among her brothers and sisters with an unclaimed nipple near her mouth.

  "I'm hoping once she's warm, she might find her mama's nipple and take some milk herself."

  As she rose, pain jabbed her side and she pressed her hand to the place, pausing before she straightened.

  "Jenn, are you okay?" Owen was there in an instant, his arm around her, his hand under her elbow.

  "I'm fine. Don't worry."

  "You're not fine. Is there something else wrong that I should know about?"

  She stared down at the tiny fluffy bodies curled close to their mama, a growing sense of helplessness making her close her eyes. When would she get over this so she could work again?

  Owen turned her gently and drew her close, and she rested her cheek against his chest, hearing the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.

  "I keep getting phantom pains, and it's possible I have nerve damage."

  Owen's arms tightened around her. "I don't understand why you were unprotected. Didn't they have armed rangers to escort you?"

  "There are too many men with guns. That's the problem. I was protecting a baby rhino. They killed her mother."

  "Oh, Jenn."

  She felt his warm breath as he pressed a kiss to her hair. "It's all right. We saved her. She's in the animal orphanage where I worked."

  The pain in her side faded as she recalled the adorable little creature in the video her coworkers had sent her while she was in the hospital. She wished she hadn't been hurt, but at least it hadn't been for nothing.

  • • •

  Jennifer strolled along the gravel path beside Owen, her head and hands warm in a wool cap and mittens decorated with snowflakes that she'd borrowed from Chloe. It was clear and cold, the bare tree branches of the majestic oaks and horse chestnuts dotted across the parkland stark against the wintry blue sky.

  Owen worked every morning in the estate office and came back to the house at lunchtime. After lunch, they'd fallen into the habit of walking the dogs together before he returned to the office. She'd started to look forward to this time of the day.

  During the past week, she'd lived her life in two-hour chunks between the alerts on her phone to check on the kittens. It was lovely to get out of the house, away from her laptop and the issue of finding a new job, and clear her head with a walk in the fresh air. When she was walking with Owen, the pains in her side didn't trouble her.

  As Owen opened a gate in the fence, Jennifer glanced his way and found him watching her, an unreadable expression on his face. A strange sensation washed through her, one she couldn't pin down. She'd caught him watching her a few times in the past few days, and she had no idea what it meant. He'd been fantastic letting her walk back into his and Chloe's lives like he had, but she didn't really know what he thought of her.

  They stepped onto the closely cropped grass of the parkland, kept short by the healthy rabbit population and the wild deer. Once he'd closed the gate, Owen tossed a tennis ball, and all three dogs took off after it as if their lives depended on beating their pals.

  Paddy loped along, huge and long legged, while Heidi streaked sleekly at his side, her sheep dog heritage making her fast and disciplined. Zach's short legs pumped frantically. He couldn't keep up, so typical terrier that he was, he resorted to tricks to get his way, nipping the other dogs' heels and taking a shortcut through a patch of brambles the others went around.

  Jennifer puffed out a steamy breath, content and relaxed—more so than she had been in a long time. She'd loved her time in Africa, enjoyed caring for the endangered animals, especially the babies in the orphanage, but there was nowhere like home. Even though England was cold, it was a relief to be able to wander through the countryside on her own, without fearing she would be attacked by a wild animal or shot by a poacher.

  The dogs startled a group of five deer behind some bushes, and both deer and dogs took off across the grass.

  "Come here," Owen bellowed, and whistled.

  Heidi immediately obeyed. Zach kept chasing for a minute more before turning around and heading back. Paddy ignored the call completely.

  "That dog is so disobedient." Owen shook his head.

  A second black Labrador appeared, distracting Paddy, and the two Labs ran in circles, playing.

  "That's Peggy, my cousin Marcus's dog. She came from the same litter."

  "I can see they're friends." She vaguely remembered Marcus. He was a year or two older than Owen, and had been away at college when she was here last time.

  Paddy and Peggy romped around, having fun splashing through a muddy hollow and getting filthy.

  They rounded a corner and found Marcus sitting on a bench, overlooking the view with a faraway look on his face. He rose as they approached.

  "Owen. I was just coming to see if you wanted a walk with the dogs." He smiled at her, his smile so like Owen's. He had the same dark hair and brown eyes as all the other Bramwell men.

  Owen introduced her, and Jennifer shook his offered hand. "I heard you'd returned. I gather you were shot. That must have been a traumatic experience. How're you feeling now?"

  "Recovering."

  "I'll bet Chloe was pleased to see you."

  Jennifer nodded and smiled, not wanting to discuss her relationship with Chloe. That was too new and fragile to dissect with someone she didn't know.

  They walked and chatted, strolling in a huge circuit around the acres of grassland back towards the gate. Jennifer listened, content to let the men talk. Yet it was obvious Marcus was distracted.

  When they parted and headed back towards the farmhouse, Jennifer waited a few minutes until she was sure Marcus wouldn't hear her. "He's worried about something."

  "I know." Owen heaved a sigh. "He has the wife from hell."

  "Oh." Jennifer glanced over her shoulder at Marcus striding away. On the surface he had everything—good looks, money, a beautiful home. It just showed that everyone had their problems to deal with, and she wasn't alone in that.

  They passed through the gate and Jennifer's phone chimed the kitten alert.

  "Just in time," Owen said. "When you've finished with the kittens, would you like to pick up Chloe from school?"

  A streak of pleasure shot through Jennifer. "I'd love to." She'd thought of asking to do this, but didn't want to step on Owen's toes by disrupting his routine with Chloe.

  "I think the kittens are old enough to be handled now, so Chloe can pick them up tonight."

  Owen smiled. "Wonderful. Chloe will be over the moon. I'll video it on my phone."

  Chapter Seven

  Jennifer pulled up outside Rosemoor village school in Owen's four-wheel-drive with the estate angel motif on the side, and cut the engine. The luxury vehicle was a lot nicer than the rental car she'd returned. Owen had said
there was no point in her keeping it when she could borrow an estate vehicle, so he'd put her on their group insurance policy.

  It was strange driving Owen's car, strange coming to the school to pick up her daughter for the first time in her life. When she stepped down from the high vehicle, she felt awkward and out of place, like an imposter.

  The closest people looked her way, curiosity in their furtive glances. The village was small and a hotbed of gossip. Most of the parents waiting probably already knew who she was.

  She pushed her hands in the pockets of her coat. She'd picked it up as soon as she left the hospital and bought her normal size without trying it on, forgetting that after the accident she was skin and bone, so it was far too big for her. Every time Owen looked at her, she was painfully aware she didn't look her best. Did he still find her attractive? She shook her head to banish the thought. She didn't want to go there.

  Sidling through the gathered parents who chatted as they waited, she found a quiet spot and leaned against the wall by the school bulletin board. Pinned in the middle was an encapsulated flyer with a picture of Mama Cat and her kittens, asking for the owner to contact the Rosemoor estate office.

  Chloe had made flyers and Owen had put them up outside the church, in the pub, and in the convenience store. He had even taped one in the window of his car. So far nobody had come forward to claim the cat and kittens.

  Jennifer had palpated Mama Cat's neck and couldn't feel a microchip, but it would help to get her scanned in case there was a digital record of the cat's owner. Although Jennifer was starting to wonder if someone had abandoned her.

  Her thoughts of the cat fled as the school door opened and children streamed out, the smallest first, then a couple of minutes later the older children.

  Jennifer stepped closer to the gate, her hands in her pockets, watching. When Chloe emerged, chatting with a girl with short curly hair, Jennifer stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front.

  Chloe looked her way, scanning the crowd of parents, and Jennifer felt ridiculously nervous. Would Chloe be disappointed Owen hadn't come?

  "Mum!" Chloe's excited shout quieted the sound of conversation, and all eyes followed Chloe as she dashed through the other children and threw her arms around Jennifer.