“Man, I could use more of those cookies your lady brought,” Lewis said as they began to stow their equipment. “I’m hungry. I hope there’s some grub when we get back.”
“Me too.” Brad slid the last of the equipment away. Around him, other crews began to load up their gear and head back to their respective houses. A news reporter stood as close to the building as allowed, waiting for the on-air light. It came on, and she began speaking. Brad hoped he wasn’t on camera. He hated that.
As he took a step, he froze, his foot in midair. Was that a plaintive, tiny meow? “Guys? Do you hear that?”
“I see it. Stay still. I got it.” Lewis swept in and scooped up the tiny kitten that had crawled close to the truck. The little cat was all black, except for an orange slash mark down its forehead. “Hey there,” he said. “You got good instincts.”
“He’s lucky I saw him,” Brad said, making sure nothing else was underfoot.
Lewis cradled the cat to his chest. “I’m not talking about you, I mean the cat’s got good instincts. He knows his meal ticket is closed. Looks about three or four months old.” The ragged thing gave the most pathetic meow ever. “The jury is still out on your instincts, especially if you don’t think the cookie lady is anything but your tenant.”
“Ha-ha,” Brad drolled.
“Does it need oxygen?” Roger asked. The truck carried pet oxygen masks.
Lewis gave it a once-over. “I don’t think he was in the smoke. Think he was outside.”
“Well, what do we do with it? We can’t keep it at the firehouse,” Chris said. He was the man in charge. “Where can it go? I don’t want to leave it here.”
Tucked into Lew’s arms, the cat was already purring.
“It’s clearly a stray. We can’t leave it here,” Roger agreed with Chris. He looked at Lewis. “Your wife’s the crazy cat lady always rescuing something or another. What do you suggest?”
“We can’t leave it here, but I can’t take it. I’ve got four already,” Lewis said. The kitten in his arms gave a small sigh and closed its eyes, safe and secure. “And my wife will kill me if we turn it in to the shelter, even a no-kill one. Most of those are full. You all know how Peggy is.”
“Oh yeah,” Roger agreed with a sage nod. “No one wants to cross Peggy.”
“You know,” Lew said thoughtfully, “your tenant’s little girl was telling me how much she wanted a kitten.”
They all turned as one to look at Brad. A pit formed in his stomach. He blinked. “Uh, no, she didn’t.”
“Uh, yeah, she did,” Lew added. “I asked her if she had pets and she said no. Asked me if I had some. Told her I had cats. Then she told me her mom had promised her one.”
Brad couldn’t tell if Lew was lying or not. Knew it didn’t matter.
Chris grinned. “Don’t you have that huge house?”
“I’m in the studio over the garage while I fix it up. Remember?”
“Plenty of space,” Lew said. “And how can you resist this face?”
Lew turned, and all Brad could see was the sweet face of a sleepy, tiny kitten. It gave another tiny meow and snuggled closer.
“Hey, did you rescue that kitten from the fire?” The reporter had come over to the truck. She gestured, and the cameraman began rolling. “I’m outside Essie’s where firefighters have just rescued a kitten caught up in the event. Can you tell us what will happen to it?”
Used to the press, Chris stepped forward. “It appears to be a stray and not to have suffered any injuries. Brad here is going to take it home.”
The reporter swung toward him, her eyes wide as she recognized him. “You’re Brad Silverman. So Mr. July is going to provide a home for an orphaned kitten.”
“Yes,” Brad replied. Lewis was already climbing into the truck with it. Brad turned, headed for the truck.
“Well, viewers, that’s a happy ending to this terrible event,” he heard her say as she recorded more story.
Brad slid into his seat and buckled up. That was the thing about being the newest member of the crew. You were always outranked, and these guys had worked together for about three years before Brad had come along. He pulled on his headset.
“I’ll text Peggy and ask her to bring some food and litter,” Lewis offered via headset.
“That will work,” Chris confirmed. “Cheer up, Brad. Sometimes it’s destiny. Now let’s get out of here.”
Yeah, right. Destiny. Which was why Brad found himself walking up to Scarlett’s back door at eight thirty Sunday morning, cat carrier in one hand and seven-pound bag of food in the other. The rest of the cat’s stuff was in his SUV. Who knew cats needed so much stuff? He rang the bell with his elbow, then set stuff down and used his key. The darn cat was howling up a storm inside the cat carrier, and he couldn’t blame him. He knew what it was like to feel trapped.
He entered the kitchen. Heard little feet running down the stairs as Colleen flew into the kitchen before her mother. She saw the carrier immediately. “Kitty!” she shrieked. The cat scooted to the back of the carrier.
“Shh,” he told her, setting it on the island. Her hands were already up in the air reaching, and he lifted her onto the bar chair. “Don’t scare it. He’s had a rough night.” Brad didn’t add that the beast had cried most of the night, keeping him awake when he did find a few minutes for sleep between calls. He’d finally taken the animal out of the carrier and let it sleep on his chest, for that had been the only way the kitten had settled. He had to admit, he’d grown a bit attached, especially after the cat had started purring in his arms after a feeding. The little guy had needed saving, and so Brad stepped up to the plate. He simply hadn’t expected the emotions that came with. No way was he letting him live elsewhere now.
“If kitty is going to live here, you have to learn some rules.”
Green eyes so like Scarlett’s watched him intently. “Okay.”
“First, you have to talk softly to the kitty. And when I take him out, you have to be very gentle.”
Colleen hadn’t stopped nodding. “I will. I can be very gentle.”
Brad opened the cage and took out the frightened animal. Sensing he was in Brad’s arms, the kitty calmed. Brad leaned over and let Colleen pet it, and then he transferred the animal to Colleen’s arms. “Shh,” she told the kitty. She cradled it like a doll and scratched behind its ears. The cat settled down immediately and began purring. “Does it have a name? Do I get to name the kitty? This is my kitty, right?”
“Right.”
“What are you two talking about?” Scarlett came into the kitchen. She’d swiped her hair into a ponytail and wore a baby-blue T-shirt and blue striped pajama pants. She wiped her eyes. “Sorry, my alarm just went off. Why did you ring the bell?” Then her eyes widened. Saw what Colleen held. “What is that?”
“Look, Mommy, Brad brought me a kitty.” Colleen began rocking the cat. “He’s purring, Mommy. Listen.” She lifted her arms up so her mom could hear.
“Found it after a call,” Brad said. “If you don’t believe me, it made the late news.”
“You were on the news?”
“Essie’s had a grease fire. Then we found the kitten. Reporter made it even a bigger deal than it was.”
Scarlett was dumbfounded. “It probably has fleas.”
“Nope. Got dipped last night. Ear mite treatment too. Lewis’s wife, Peggy, came by the station and treated it. Brought all sorts of cat things that we’d need and gave me a detailed shopping list for the rest.”
“She’s always wanted a cat.” Her hands went to her hips. Her chin jutted forward. “But I thought we’d wait a while. You could have discussed this with me first.”
Brad knew she wanted to kill him. “Is she allergic?”
“No.”
“Then the kitten comes with the house,” he said easily. “You already have the landlord’s approval, so no worries there. I’ll pay the vet bills. I mean, I can’t give him up now that everyone in the city thinks I’ve rescued him, and
he’ll be happier over here with you than out above the garage. Peggy says it’ll need shots and fixing. It’s a boy.”
Colleen’s happiness was infectious. “Mommy, he has a Harry Potter mark. I’m calling him Harry. Cute Harry,” Colleen cooed. “Do you like it when I scratch your ears, Harry?” Harry responded with a purr.
She moved closer, trying to share Colleen’s excitement. “So this is Harry Harrison?” Scarlett asked, adding their last name.
“No, Mommy. This is Harry Potter.” She may not have seen the movies, but Colleen knew who Harry Potter was. “He’s my kitty.”
Scarlett knew when she was beaten. No way would she ask Colleen to give up cute little Harry, and besides, he was adorable. She reached out and scratched the top of his tiny head.
“Peggy says if we keep him inside, he’ll never want to go outside. Then we don’t need to worry about losing him. But we should get him microchipped anyway.”
“Can he sleep with me?” Colleen asked.
“Yes,” Brad inserted before Scarlett could check that.
“Can he sit on the couch?”
Scarlett gave a resigned sigh. “I’m sure he’s going to be all over the house. Although we’ll need to train him to stay off the counters.”
“I’ve got a litter box out in the car and litter. Peggy recommends giving him limited range until he gets used to his new surroundings. She suggested putting the litter box in the bathroom so that way the kitten can have free rein between your and Colleen’s bedrooms for a few days. She says we’ll know when he’s ready to broaden his horizons and then we can give him the run of the house.”
“I see you have everything all figured out,” Scarlett said, watching as Colleen was already taking the kitten back upstairs. “I am not happy with you.”
Brad grinned. “You weren’t before.”
“True, but you blindsided me with a kitten.”
“And you’ve already fallen in love with it. Admit it.”
She sighed. “Fine. But couldn’t you have called? A head’s-up would have been nice.”
“Sorry. We went on call after call and by the time I got back and Peggy’d taken care of him, I figured it was too late. Oh, Peggy gave me the name of her vet. We met her at the Mayor’s Ball. Kat Saunders.”
“You do realize that had we adopted a pet from the shelter it wouldn’t have been as much money as this free cat is going to cost.”
He shrugged. Gave her another endearing grin. “No big deal. Little guy’s worth it and I told you I’d handle it.”
“I’ve got money,” Scarlett said.
“I know, but I brought it home. I’m working again tomorrow, but I can call and make an appointment.”
“I’ll do it. And you better go outside and get those cat supplies. Any accidents and you’re cleaning them.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a grin and a salute and went back out the door. A few minutes later he returned carrying a covered litter box and a thirty-five-pound yellow plastic tub of litter. “There’s more,” he told her, setting it down.
“More?”
“Yeah. Peggy gave us a scratching post and a bunch of cat toys. She and Lewis foster cats and have four of their own. The carrier is the only thing we’ll need to return.”
“That’s sweet of them. This is a lot of stuff.”
“Yeah,” he said, heading back out the door. “She says we will need a cat tower too. We have plenty of space for one.”
“Great,” Scarlett called after him. Now they were pet owners. She grabbed the litter box and hoisted the tub of litter. Used to lifting her daughter, it weighed nothing. She carried both upstairs to the en suite bathroom. Found a spot for the litter box in an out-of-the-way corner. Realized they’d need to keep a broom upstairs so that they could sweep up any loose litter that the kitten tracked onto the floor. And they’d need a supply of small trash bags in order to keep the box clean.
Brad came upstairs carrying a litter scoop, cat carrier and a thirty-inch carpeted scratching post. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” Scarlett said, wondering where the heck she was going to put all that. “Put the carrier in the spare bedroom until we buy one. The post, oh, I don’t know.”
“Mommy, the kitty is climbing my curtains,” Colleen called. “He’s almost at the top. Harry! Come down!”
“Scratching post goes to Colleen’s room,” she and Brad said almost in unison. They both started laughing, and Brad lifted the carpet-covered pole and set it in the center of her room. Harry jumped down and found his scratching post. He perched atop like a giant bird, all four paws on the four-inch rounded top. He opened his mouth. Made a plaintive meow.
“He’s going to run this house,” Scarlett said, stating the inevitable.
“Yeah, but she’s happy,” Brad pointed out. Colleen was already teasing Harry with a string. He batted at it. “How about we go to the pet store later and buy some toys?”
“Let me text my mom and tell her we’re not going to make it to church,” Scarlett said. “Have you eaten?”
“No.”
She led him out of Colleen’s room. “I’ll cook something. I’ve got some sausage links and bacon. I’ll do that, toast and oatmeal. Maybe some eggs.”
“That’s a feast.”
“One you don’t deserve.” She paused at the top of the stairs. “You realize you’ve saddled us with a twenty-year commitment.”
“They live that long? Hmm, the guys didn’t tell me that.”
“I’m sure there’s a reason they conveniently forgot that fact.” She began to walk down the stairs.
“Well, he’ll grow up with her,” Brad called after her. “I never had a pet. I would have liked that.”
“Seriously?” She paused. “That’s sad. We had cats growing up.”
“No, I was deprived. If you ever don’t want him, I’ll make sure he has a home with me.”
“Thanks. Colleen’s been patient. Her friends had animals and she’d beg and beg.”
“Then maybe it’s fate. He literally walked up to us and started meowing. Most pathetic thing you’d ever seen. Do you see how skinny he is?”
“Just don’t bring any more home,” she warned, turning back to face him. She jabbed a finger into his chest as he stepped off the last stair. “You may be scared of your lieutenant, but I met him. He’s got nothing on me. Got that?”
He captured her hand. Held it in his. “Yes, ma’am. Orders received and understood.”
He let her hand go and followed her into the kitchen. Watched as she opened the refrigerator. “Here,” she called.
She removed a carton of eggs and held out the container. He took it and set the eggs on the counter. She pulled open the meat drawer and removed the sausage and bacon. Handed them to him. He set those next to the eggs.
“Get the bread out of the pantry while I find the frying pan.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Cut that out or I’ll hit you with this frying pan.”
He opened the double doors. Poked his head around so he could see her. “Violent this morning, aren’t you?”
Her hand dangled a cast-iron skillet. “You dive-bombed me with a kitten.”
“Dive-bombed? What am I, a seagull?”
“You know what I mean.”
He found the sliced bread. Shut the pantry and brought it over. “He’ll kill any mice too.”
“Mice?” She gave a small squeak.
He took the frying pan from her fingers and set it on the counter. “I’ve never seen any, or signs of any. But with these old houses, you never know.”
“Great. Thanks for that.” She took out a bowl. Cracked a few eggs and began to whip them together. Added salt and pepper. “Grab the milk, will you?”
He complied and she added some milk and whipped it into the egg mixture. She found another frying pan, put it on the stove and turned on the gas flame. She added the sausage and it began to sizzle.
Brad took a seat at the island and watched her work. Sh
e was a machine—bacon went into the microwave to cook. Bread went into the toaster. Popped up golden brown. Eggs poured into the other skillet turned into scrambled eggs. There was something homey about watching someone you liked cook. An intimacy to the act that didn’t have him wanting to run for the hills. She waved a spatula at him. “Make yourself useful and get plates out,” she told him, taking the eggs off the stove.
“Sure.” He jumped up. Did as directed. Got everything ready. “This is nice. Thanks for cooking.”
“You’re welcome. Least I can do, with you providing me this great kitchen. Did I tell you I’ve registered for college? I’ve got about a semester and a half left. I’m going back in August once Colleen goes to preschool. It’s time.”
“That’s fantastic.” He was happy for her. “I think that’s a great idea.”
“I’ve put my life on hold long enough, you know? I can finish school, get a job and still be a mom, right?”
“Right.” He didn’t see why not.
“I’m going to go get Colleen. Serve yourself some food.”
“I’ll wait.”
A few minutes later the three of them sat at the island eating breakfast, with Colleen telling them all about Harry the kitten’s antics. “He was sleeping when I left,” she told them matter-of-factly. “He’s a good kitty.”
“Well, he’ll have to go to the vet soon,” her mom said. “I’m going to make an appointment. He has to be fixed.”
“Fixed?” Colleen asked.
“That means he can’t be a daddy cat,” her mom said.
“Why not?”
“Because there are too many kittens in the world already that don’t have homes,” Scarlett said. “So Harry doesn’t need to get any girl kitty pregnant. It won’t hurt him and he’ll be home right away.”
Fan The Flames (Man Of The Month Book 3) Page 14