“Would you like a cup of coffee?” the white-haired woman wearing antlers asked from behind the front desk.
“No thanks.”
“We have tea.” The woman looked vaguely familiar, like someone Caitlin had met before. A friend of her mom or a preschooler’s grandmother? “Or cocoa and cider mix if that’s more to your liking.”
“I’m not thirsty, but appreciate the offer.”
“Worried about the kitten?”
Caitlin nodded. “She was so wet and cold.”
“Doc Sullivan is one of the best.”
She wasn’t surprised. He’d talked so much about going to vet school. “Good to know.”
Mistletoe is a cute name.”
“Thanks.” Caitlin picked up a magazine then opened the cover. She didn’t want to be rude, but she wasn’t up for making conversation right now.
She had the kitten on her mind.
And Noah Sullivan.
Recognizing him had rendered her stupid. That was the real explanation behind naming the kitten Mistletoe. She couldn’t think of anything but the bunch of greenery hanging above them, wondering if there was some ethics code that kept a vet from kissing a patient. Rather, the patient’s human. Not that the cat belonged to her. See…
Being near him short-circuited her brain. Fried logic. Turned off common sense.
The same thing had happened her freshman year of college when he’d gone from crush to date to boyfriend. She’d been living a freshman fantasy until he broke up with her in April two weeks before his commencement ceremony.
Vet school means everything to me. I like you a lot, more than I’ve liked anyone, but I can’t afford the distraction of a long distance relationship. Pullman, Washington is too far away. You still have three more years here in Bozeman. Trust me, breaking up is the best thing for you.
Funny how years later, seven if she wanted to be exact, she wished she’d gotten a chance to tell him how she knew what was best for her, not him. But she’d been too upset, a combination of shock and surprise, to string two words together let alone a snappy comeback.
But Noah was here now.
Her first love just down the hallway.
Maybe she would finally get her chance.
Who was she kidding? She was usually at the top of the nice list. Saying something would be out of character though she was a little peeved he would have to look more handsome than before. She rubbed the back of her neck. Not that she’d hoped he’d lost his hair and gained a hundred pounds. Well, maybe once.
In her defense, Noah had broken her heart and crushed her dreams.
She’d cried for weeks, lost ten pounds, sworn off men for the entire summer and part of fall. Eventually she’d realized breaking up had been the right thing to do.
Noah had shared his plans with her. Plans to be a vet in a big city where the larger population could support specialties.
She’d tried to be supportive, but she hadn’t been, not really. A big town was the last place this small town Montana girl wanted to be. Marietta was the only place she wanted to live. She assumed Noah had figured that out.
Yet here he was in the same place she’d been born, grew up, and still lived. She could hardly believe it.
A romantic Christmassy ballad played. The melody washed over her, but didn’t ease the tension knotting her neck.
Christmas Eve. The kitten. Noah Sullivan.
Jen would say none of this was a coincidence. She’d call finding the kitten and seeing Noah synchronicity or fate. Caitlin shook her head. Maybe even destiny. But Jen was a dreamer, an optimist who believed in Christmas magic and miracles and happy endings.
Caitlin wouldn’t mind a happy ending, but so far she’d gotten only as far as chapter two or three, a long way from the end. She tapped her boot against the tile floor, in time to the Christmas carol playing on overhead speakers.
Had Noah found his happy ending?
For all she knew, he was married with kids or had a girlfriend. Maybe more than one. The guy had been a catch his senior year. On the surface, nothing looked to have changed.
But she’d learned to look deeper than a pretty face.
Even one as pretty as Noah Sullivan’s.
Noah stared at the kitten, now dry, wrapped in heated blankets. IV bags filled with water and heated in the microwave helped to raise the cat’s temperature. The warming techniques were working the way they should—slowly. Rushing the process could cause more harm than good.
But the cat’s dehydration and thinness concerned him. Lack of food or a hidden health issue? Tests would answer the question, but Noah might not like the answers. Caitlin, either.
His body hummed with awareness, memories of her in his arms and against his lips sprang to life as if the seven years that had passed were seven days.
A dog whined. Only one was back here.
He glanced over at the tech. “How’s Chewey doing?”
Kelly was taking Chihuahua’s vitals. “Looks like he’s ready to go home. The owners live on a small ranch outside of town. It’ll take them a while to drive in if they didn’t stick around Marietta.”
“Give them a call. Before discharge, I’ll speak with them about leaving presents filled with chocolate under the tree, wrapped or not.” Noah strode to the door, eager to see Caitlin again now that the cat’s condition was more stable. “I’m going to the waiting room. I have questions about the kitten.”
“Mistletoe,” Kelly said.
Noah glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
“The kitten’s name is Mistletoe. That’s what Veronica said Caitlin named her.”
He froze at the tech’s familiar use of her name. Curiosity about the woman he’d once known had him walking back toward Kelly. “Do you know Caitlin?”
“Yes. I knew her better back in high school, but sometimes she attends the workout classes I teach.”
So Caitlin worked out. He wasn’t surprised. She used to jog in college. Maybe he’d get a better look at her this time. Her hat, big coat, and the fleece blanket had kept her hidden.
Kelly eyed him suspiciously. “Why do you want to know?”
Her wary tone made him feel like a stalker. He didn’t like the feeling. Especially since he wondered if there was anyone special in Caitlin’s life—a boyfriend or fiancé or husband. “You didn’t call her a client or Mistletoe’s person, but used her first name.”
“Most people around here know other folks’ names even if they don’t know the person well. Most people know Caitlin Butler because she’s the most popular preschool teacher around. The kids adore Miss Caitlin.”
Miss, not Mrs. Noah’s relief was palpable.
“Speaking of names.” Kelly glanced at the kitten. An I’m-on-my-way-to-being-a-crazy-cat-lady smile curved her lips. “Mistletoe is such a cute name. Perfect for this sweet little girl.”
“I’d say Caitlin chose the name because mistletoe was hanging over her head.”
Kelly made a face. “Does it matter how she came up with the name? Mistletoe fits.”
Maybe he was just pissed because Caitlin was thinking about the kitten while standing under the mistletoe and not him. Back in college she would have attacked him with kisses. “Yeah, I’m probably making too much out of the name.”
“Mistletoe does suggest Christmas. What the kitten needs is a Santa hat and bow. Wouldn’t that be so adorable?”
He grimaced, not understanding why anyone would want to dress a kitten in clothing. No wonder cats acted so put-out all the time. He would too if someone tried to dress him up like Santa or a comic book super hero or a baby. “Do you want to play holiday dress-up before administering SubQ fluids or after the blood draw? Why not stick Veronica’s antlers on Chewy so he’ll look like the dog from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas?”
Kelly’s eyes brightened. “Max! He would look exactly like him. If Mistletoe starts feeling better—”
“Joking,” Noah interrupted.
Her smile fell. “Don’t joke a
bout Christmas. It’s serious stuff around here. Especially tonight.”
“I’m figuring that out.” Noah didn’t mind any of the Christmas decorations except the mistletoe. He especially liked the lights hanging around the windows, hanging like his dad hung them when Noah was a kid.
The town liked gingerbread, too. Every business in Marietta had a replica gingerbread house of their establishment thanks to a new baker from Arizona who was in town for the holidays. A mastiff named Duke had taken a chunk out of the Copper Mountain Animal Hospital gingerbread house. Thankfully Rachel Murphy, the baker, had assured them and the worried pet owner that all parts were edible. “I’ll be out front if you need me.”
Noah hoped the cat continued to stabilize and not crash.
For Caitlin’s sake.
And theirs, too.
After all, tonight was Christmas Eve.
A time for miracles and, dare he hope, second chances.
Footsteps sounded down the hallway, ones too heavy to belong to Zumba-thin Kelly, who taught Zumba fitness and dance in the school gym a few nights a week. Caitlin looked up from the Country Living magazine on her lap.
Noah walked toward her, his strides long, his gaze focused on her.
Her heart jolted.
Seeing him made Caitlin feel a mix of emotion, mostly good, but she hated that she found him so much more attractive. That just wasn’t fair.
And then she remembered…
The kitten.
Caitlin jumped to her feet. The magazine hit the ground with a thump, a way she imagined her heart might sound if Noah came any closer.
He swooped up the periodical then handed it to her in a single motion, a knight in shining scrubs. She didn’t need rescuing, but she knew who did.
“Mistletoe… ?”
Noah moved closer, too close for her comfort level, but with the chair behind her she couldn’t move. His soap and water scent tickled her nose. She stopped talking. She didn’t remember him smelling good enough to take another sniff.
Move away. Now.
Caitlin stepped to her left, then placed the magazine on the table next to her. “Is Mistletoe going to be okay?”
“She’s showing signs of improvement from the hypothermia. We don’t want to warm her too quickly. A slow increase in temperature is good.”
The rich timbre of his voice sent a burst of warmth flowing through her veins. She forced herself to concentrate on the small tabby. “Poor kitty.”
“It’s a good thing you brought her in when you did. You may have saved a life today.”
“May have?” A lump burned in Caitlin’s throat. Her lungs trapped her breath. Tears stung the corner of her eyes. “That doesn’t sound good.”
He pulled her into his arms, a place she’d only dreamed about being for a very long time. “She’s getting better. But with animals, especially young ones, we tend toward the cautious side.”
His heart beat against her chest. She should back away, but didn’t want to. Not yet.
The feel, even the smell, became more familiar with each passing second. Her body remembered, wanted to be closer, but the attraction thrumming through her was new. Different. Overwhelming.
She didn’t know how long they stood there. She didn’t care. She hadn’t dated anyone in the last six months. She’d missed… this, a comforting touch. She longed for someone of her own, someone to give her comfort and support when needed, someone to… care. The way she wanted to do and give back in return.
Someday…
“Tell me about finding Mistletoe,” he said finally, only loosening his arms slightly.
“I was bringing my friends’ garbage can to the garage. I saw something lying on the snow. For a minute I thought… I thought the kitten was, um, dead. As I moved closer, I could see the kitten was wet, shivering. Such a relief. For a moment at least.”
Noah squeezed, a light, reassuring pressure. “I bet. Especially after thinking the worst.”
She leaned closer, drawn by the gesture of comfort, and by him. Was it wrong to be enjoying being in his arms so much?
If only she could think of him as a vet, not also a man.
But she didn’t. Caitlin took a step back, awash with sensation, heat and a heavy dose of caution.
He’d broken her heart once. Sure she’d recovered, moved on, fallen in love again. But she’d never forgotten him. Still they’d both changed over the years. She knew nothing about the man he’d become.
Best to follow his prescription for warming Mistletoe.
Go slowly.
“I’m housesitting for friends over the holidays. They had a cat disappear a few months ago. I thought for a split second this might be Miss Kitty. But I realized this cat was younger. A kitten.”
“I’d say she’s four or five months old, based on her teeth, but that’s young. Was she making any noise?”
“Her mouth moved, like she wanted to meow, but no sound came out. When she looked up at me with those big, sad green eyes…” Caitlin fought the urge to touch Noah. She placed her hand on her chest instead. “Please tell me there’s nothing seriously wrong with her.”
Concern flitted across his face. He lowered his hand. “As I said, stabilizing her temperature is going well. But I want to perform further tests.”
“What kind of tests?”
“To see if there’s anything going on inside her. Organs, blood, a whole lot of other things a blood panel will tell us.”
“Do you think something’s wrong with her?”
“I want to rule a few things out,” he said. “Mistletoe isn’t micro-chipped. Veronica is searching lost pet listings online. Based on her condition and how you found her, she appears to be a stray or maybe from one of the feral catch and release colonies in Marietta.”
“Mistletoe didn’t hiss or try to scratch me when I touched her. Though she wasn’t moving much.”
“A symptom of hypothermia is unresponsiveness,” he said. “Stray doesn’t always mean feral. Ranches like Nate Vaughn’s Bar V5 take unadoptable cats from the shelter in Bozeman and make them barn cats. I’ve examined a couple. Nice cats.”
She scrunched her face. “Are they? You thinking Mistletoe came all the way from Paradise Valley? That would be a long trip for a kitten.”
“Not if she caught a ride in an engine or wheel well.”
Caitlin inhaled sharply. “That’s… “
“When temperatures drop, animals go where it’s warm.” He moved a step closer, giving her another whiff of his delicious scent. “That’s why during winter some people bang once or twice on their car hoods before starting the engine.”
“I had no idea. I’ll start doing that.” She noticed Veronica eyeing them with interest. Caitlin had forgotten the woman was there. “So, Mistletoe?”
“We want to run a panel of blood tests.” He glanced at Veronica, who was obviously eavesdropping. “The results will help us determine if Mistletoe’s healthy, and just needs fluids and a few good meals. If that’s the case, we can place her with the shelter in Bozeman. A Good Samaritan Fund will cover the cost of her treatment.”
“No.” The force of the word surprised Caitlin.
Noah’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“It’s just…” She wet her lips. What was she doing? She had no idea what the bill would be and not much extra money. “Do you have an estimate for her care?”
The number Noah said was double what she’d been thinking. She bit the inside of her mouth.
“Do you want to pay for the kitten’s treatment?” he asked.
“I… it’s just ever since I found Mistletoe in my friends’ yard, I keep thinking about them and their cat, Miss Kitty.” Caitlin calculated the balance in her checking account. Not enough to cover an exam, let alone tests and treatment with rent due next week. She switched to her savings. Yes, she had enough there. Who needed to take a summer vacation anyway? “I’d like to give Mistletoe to my friends. They miss their cat so much. The kitten would be the perfect Chr
istmas gift for them. Well, once they get home.”
“You haven’t changed at all. You’re still a nice, sweet person.”
“Sometimes. I have my moments. I’m not as a big a pushover as I used to be.”
“Mistletoe might beg to differ.”
“Who isn’t a pushover when it comes to kittens.”
“True,” he admitted. “Wanting to give Mistletoe to your friends is thoughtful, but giving a pet as a gift isn’t recommended.” His practical words flowed like the Marietta River around town. “A pet is a huge responsibility. A lifelong commitment. What if your friends aren’t over their lost cat and don’t want this one? Don’t like her. What will you do then?”
“Okay, I see your point, but…” The tears gleaming in Jen’s eyes earlier today poked at Caitlin’s heart. She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to figure this out. She didn’t want to just give up. “Could you do the blood tests while I contact my friends and see if they want Mistletoe? If they do, I’ll pay her bill. I’m happy to make a deposit before you get started. If my friends don’t want Mistletoe, keep the deposit, use that fund you mentioned earlier to pay the remainder of the bill, and contact the shelter.”
His gaze darkened. The midnight blue color made her think of kissing him outside the library after studying for midterms. She’d loved the library after that night.
“You don’t want Mistletoe for yourself?” he asked.
Her chest tightened. “I wish I could. I love cats, but my landlord has issues with me parking on the curb in front. He would never allow a kitten, even though the garage apartment is nothing special.”
“A garage?”
She’d experienced that scrunched-face reaction before. “Over the garage. My studio apartment isn’t fancy, but the neighborhood is relatively safe and the rent is cheap. I’m a preschool teacher. Not the biggest paycheck in town, but I love my job.”
His eyes widened. “You were planning to major in business. Advertising.”
Impressive memory. Her stomach fluttered. She couldn’t help being flattered. “I was, but the summer after freshman year I worked a summer job at a daycare. I knew that’s what I wanted to do. So I transferred to University of Montana Western and changed my major to Early Childhood Education.”
Mistletoe Magic Page 2