Inside, the church was cold, making Anna grateful that she’d carried a muff to slide her hands into. Edward said hello to folks he saw in passing, and Anna nodded to them. The building was packed with townsfolk of every type today, and they had to take a seat on the last row in the back.
As it had on her wedding day, the beautiful sanctuary with its rich wooden beams and magnificent stained glass and pipe organ impressed her. The church was newly built after the congregation decided to relocate to downtown Denver, and Anna knew it would be a joy to worship here.
Reverend Henry Augustus Buchtel began by apologizing for the cold, saying they were taken by surprise at the drop in temperature overnight. “Our good man Isaac Blake, our music director, will lead the congregation now, and later I’ll speak to you about the care of our fellow man and all of God’s creation.” He stepped back as Mr. Blake walked over to the podium and the organist began to play “Holy, Holy, Holy.”
When the song ended, Anna leaned over and whispered to Edward, “What are the boxes of seating near the front for? There’s a curtain drawn over them.” She’d wondered about that when she’d first seen them.
“Those,” he whispered back, “are for the . . . um, ladies who are . . . expecting.” He choked on the word.
Anna gave a soft giggle at his embarrassment and said, “I see.”
“Shh.” Edward put his finger to his lips.
Anna leaned against the pew while the music director led them in two more songs before the sermon began.
It wasn’t long before Anna gave the reverend her rapt attention. His topic was caring for not only our fellow man but also the animals that God entrusted us with. He spoke of things she’d never considered before—how God had used animals in Scripture to carry out His purposes. God ordered ravens to feed Elijah. He provided a large fish to swallow Jonah and caused Balaam’s donkey to speak. Anna read her Bible, but somehow she hadn’t thought about allowing animals a special place in the world, even though she instinctively had a soft spot in her heart for all animals—especially ones that suffered.
She listened intently to the reverend’s sermon and thought it related quite well to her way of thinking lately when it came to her focus on animals. As he talked, it inspired her to close her eyes and pray that God would show her any opportunity to help her neighbor and use her affection for animals in whatever way He chose.
Several latecomers arrived, and Anna shivered with every blast of cold air from the open door. During the time of prayers she asked God to bless her marriage, to help her define her role in her marriage and in life, and to be able to accept that role with a grateful heart.
Before communion began, Anna felt something bump against her leg. She bent down to move the folds of her skirt aside and heard purring. Despite Edward’s protest at her movements, which knocked her hat askew, she felt around between the kneeling bench and her skirt. Her hat, which at this point was cockeyed, slid off and rolled underneath the pew in front of her just as she came in contact with a soft ball of fur.
A kitten! For goodness’ sake! It was a tiny little thing and thin enough that she could feel each rib. A very neglected kitty indeed. Her heart filled with pity as she sat back up. It must be cold and hungry, and it must have slipped in somehow when the door opened. She’d have to remove it before they stood to take communion or she’d step on the little creature. Edward could retrieve her hat for her later.
Edward gave her a sharp look, one brow cocked upward in disapproval, and muttered something under his breath. Anna put her finger to her lips to silence him. Bending down again, she lifted her petticoats and pulled the frail kitty from beneath them. The kitty gave a weak meow, but it echoed loudly enough to be heard in the stillness of the sanctuary.
She looked around sheepishly, and Edward threw her an irritated look, clearly shocked at what she held in her hands. She could only shrug her shoulders at him, mindful of the people in the rows in front of them turning around to see what the commotion was about. Tucking the scrawny kitty against her chest, she motioned with her finger that she was going outside. Quickly she picked up her muff and hurried out the back door, being careful to close the door quietly.
In her haste Anna slipped on the slick front steps and fell on her behind, but she managed to keep her clutch on the kitten. A passerby walked over and assisted her up, asking her if she was all right. She nodded and thanked him as he scurried on inside, very late for service. She brushed the light snow from the back of her coat and the kitten meowed loudly, so she hurried past the large wrought-iron gates and down the street to find the place where Edward had parked their carriage. She climbed up, thankful for the top cover, and spread the warm robe across her lap and legs before taking the kitten out from under her arm.
Taking a good look at the pitiful creature gave Anna a pang. Its tiny eyes were nearly matted shut and its fur was dull and sparse. But nonetheless, she could tell it was a pretty little thing.
She stroked its head and it purred loudly. “I promise to serve you some warm milk as soon as we get home, little kitty, and take good care of you until you feel better.” A louder purring was the kitten’s response. She tucked it underneath the blanket in her lap, and soon it was fast asleep.
Not many people were out on the streets. Horse-drawn carriages plodded to and fro, slowly making their way down the street. The powdery snow skimmed the rooftops and dusted the elm tree limbs to give the street an enchanting storybook look. One that said all was well.
It wasn’t long before the cold penetrated her coat and she could see her breath in the air. Hopefully Edward would hurry out as soon as church was over. It was hard to believe that some people discarded animals as though they were rubbish. It angered her, and she thought of Moose. “We’re supposed to care for God’s dumb animals,” she grumbled out loud.
“Who are you talking to?” Edward climbed up, a scowl across his brows as he tossed her hat on her lap.
Anna gave a short laugh. “The kitten, of course.” It was obvious that he wasn’t happy with her. She’d have to choose her words carefully.
He cast her a dark look, warning her. “What do you think you’re going to do with the cat?”
“It’s not a cat. See?” She pulled the robe back. “It’s just a baby kitten that someone discarded.”
“For heaven’s sake, Anna. Cats roam the city just like dogs. You can’t be sure someone tried to get rid of it just because it slipped into the church sanctuary.”
“Well, it sure seems that way, else its little ribs wouldn’t be sticking out so.”
“Doesn’t matter!” He reached for the kitten. “I’m taking it right back to church to let the caretaker deal with it. It looks sick to me.”
“No, Edward! Please let me nurse the little thing back to health,” Anna pleaded, keeping a tight hold on the little ball of fur in her lap. “I’ll find a home for it. I promise.”
“When have I heard that before? Anna, we cannot bring home every stray animal you find.”
“Why?”
“Well, because . . . I don’t know . . . because I said so.”
“Well, you’ll have to do better than that. How could you possibly leave this sweet, fragile thing on the streets?” She couldn’t help but wonder if he was afraid of animals.
Edward rolled his eyes and slapped his hands on his thighs in exasperation. “I never said I would. I’ll take her back to the church—”
“Edward.” Anna reached to touch his hand. “Please reconsider. The kitten won’t take up much space and the dogs will enjoy the company for a little while.”
“Oh, sure they will. Dogs and cats just naturally like each other.”
“Please . . . I’ll make you apple dumplings.” Anna would not give up. She hugged the kitten against her face lovingly.
She caught the look of kindness in his eyes, but for some reason he pretended to feel otherwise. He reached for the horse’s reins, turning his head from her. “You win for now . . . but soon as the kitten is
better, out it goes, understand?”
“’Course, dear.” Anna knew she had no plans to find a home other than theirs for the kitten, but Edward might come to actually like having a cat. Now wouldn’t that be something, she thought.
“Okay. But I’ll be looking for my apple dumplings . . . if you know how to cook them.” He clicked the reins with a “giddyup” and headed the carriage homeward.
Anna was already planning how she would clean up the tiny kitten and make a nice warm bed in the kitchen for it as soon as she got home—right after they had lunch.
17
After a hasty lunch of leftover soup, Edward watched Anna hurry through the dishes. “We could’ve gone to Ella’s after church if it hadn’t been for that blasted cat,” he grumbled as he glanced over by the fireplace where the cat lay sleeping. This was not how he’d planned to spend his Sunday afternoon. He envisioned they’d read the Rocky Mountain News after lunch, then perhaps snuggle together on the couch and . . .
“I’m sorry, Edward, but as you can see this tiny one needs some tender care.” She frowned as she lifted the kitten from a quilt she’d folded into a bed and smoothed the animal’s matted fur. “Do you have a pair of scissors handy, Edward? I think I’ll have to cut a few of these mats out before I can brush her . . . at least I believe it’s a ‘her,’” she said, flipping the wailing kitty over and staring hard.
Edward peered over her shoulder. “Great, a female cat. I hope you understand you’re not going to keep her, Anna.” He retrieved the scissors from the cabinet drawer. “You hold her and I’ll snip.”
Anna’s eyes grew wide. “Be careful not to nip her skin. There’s only a couple mats, then I’ll give her some warm milk.”
Her eyes filled with tears, wetting her thick lashes. He knew Anna had a tender heart after he’d watched her gaze at the scrawny thing. What was he going to do with her? But seeing the empathy mirrored in her eyes struck a chord in his heart. There was nothing wrong with having a tender heart, though he didn’t want a house overrun with animals.
He sighed deeply. “That should do it,” he said, finishing with the scissors and laying them aside. He brushed off the flying cat hair that had landed on his shirt. “This is why I don’t care for pets in the house.”
Anna poured warm milk into a small bowl and set it in front of the kitten, who was almost too weak to stand. Anna cooed to the kitten and touched her finger to the milk, then to the kitten’s nose, urging her to taste it. The kitten blinked, flicked her pink tongue out, and began to quickly lap up the offered meal. A smile flashed across Anna’s face, and Edward had to smile too.
“I’m going to wipe her down with warm soapy water to remove the dirt and grime. By then she’ll be happy to lie in her little bed.” Anna touched Edward’s arm. “Oh! I forgot to feed Moose and Baby. Would you mind, Edward?”
Edward’s arm tingled where her fingers had touched him, and he grabbed hold of her hand, pulling her to him. “If you promise to make those apple dumplings,” he teased.
Anna put her arms around his neck. “I think I can be persuaded, unless you prefer a different type of dessert . . .”
Edward touched her lips with his fingers. “Well, you little minx . . . I won’t be long. Hurry with the cat.”
She threw him a coy half smile. “I’m not going anyplace.”
His heart began thumping hard as he watched her skip back over to the kitten, whose full tummy pooched out. He hurried out to feed the dogs what was left of the soup. As he was filling their bowls while they danced around his legs yapping with glee, he drew up short and thought about what he was doing.
How in the world had he let Anna wind him around her finger this way? She’d almost made him forget what he’d said about having pets in the first place. Just look at him—running out to feed her dogs while she attended to her waif of a sick-looking kitten whose hair shed all over him and most likely the kitchen as well.
When he was finished filling the bowls, he gave both dogs a pat on the head. Well, he’d just have to set her straight but avoid looking into her pretty little face. That’s what always got him into trouble, causing him to drop his usual reserve. The cat would have to go tomorrow!
The kitten leapt around the kitchen like a cricket, exploring every corner. Anna found an old cloth after she heated water for the kitten’s bath. From the looks of it, she was a calico, a pretty white one with black and orange spots. Her nose had a black splotch that appeared to be dirt but, after closer inspection, turned out to be a marking in her fur.
“You’re adorable, missy, with that black smudge,” she said, tapping the kitten’s nose with the end of her finger. The kitten nipped at her fingers with her tiny teeth, and Anna laughed and moved her hand from side to side playfully as the kitten tried to grab hold.
“I think I’ll call you Cricket since you resemble a cricket leaping from place to place.” She scooped up the kitten and, sitting down in the chair at the table, dipped her cloth into the warm water to begin wiping the kitten’s eyes clean. At first Cricket flinched, but Anna’s touch was soothing and she was able to wipe all the fur down. Afterward she dried and buffed the kitten’s long hair with a towel.
“This has to be the fastest bath in history, because you’re no bigger than a mite!” she told the kitten.
It was at this point that Edward strode back into the kitchen, not smiling as he had when he’d left. He paused as if to say something then looked as though he thought better of it.
“Look.” Anna held the kitty up. “Isn’t she pretty with all these markings? And she’s clean now.” But he only stood with his hands in his pockets. “I’ve decided to name her Cricket. What do you think? Goed?” Something was wrong with Edward. Had something happened while he was in the backyard?
“Doesn’t matter since you won’t be keeping her. Look, Anna, I was thinking . . . you can’t continue to bring animals home with you.”
“But you said—”
“Never mind what I said. I had a weak moment. You tend to do that to me.” He folded his arms across his chest.
She wrapped the kitten in a towel and held her close. “I don’t understand.”
“For one thing, I don’t like cat hair floating in the air.”
“Okay. I’ll keep her combed and will dust every day.”
“I don’t like having the dogs inside because they run all over the house and get into mischief.”
“I promise to keep them on the porches or in the yard.”
He paused, his jaw set in a firm line. “I don’t like the excrement they leave in the backyard. It causes flies, and that’s not sanitary.”
“I’ll pick it up and discard it, and I promise to keep the yard clean of the mess.”
“And . . . I don’t like sharing you with them.” His eyes became steel-gray points as they honed in on hers.
Aha! Now she was beginning to get to the root of the problem. He was jealous of her time spent with them. My goodness! Would he be this way if they were to have a baby?
“I see . . . Then I’m very sorry I disobeyed your rules. I wanted to help Moose and Cricket escape a worse fate.” As if in response, Cricket purred so loudly that they both could hear her. “You have to admit, she’s a darling little kitty.” Anna stared down at the kitten perfectly content to sleep in the towel in her arms. “As soon as I get more nutrients into her, she’ll fill out and I can find a home for her.”
“Tomorrow.” His answer was firm. “She looks content enough. She’s warm, fed, and bathed. That’s hardly what most street urchins receive.”
Anna stroked Cricket’s back. “Edward, did you even listen to the reverend’s sermon today?”
“Of course I did.” He turned at the kitchen doorway to face her with a scowl. “Why?”
“The reverend said we are to care for animals as well as our fellow man,” she said softly, not wanting to sound like it was a reprimand.
Edward pursed his lips. “That doesn’t mean you personally have to start caring
for every stray one that crosses your path.”
“But what if I feel I must in my heart? What then?” She eyed him with a level gaze.
He drew in a deep breath. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to consider that. But now I’m going to go read the newspaper.”
Cricket purred, burrowing against Anna contentedly. Anna felt her husband’s displeasure and blinked back tears. She thought that when he’d allowed Baby to stay, they’d agreed that the house belonged to both of them. Could it be a reminder was needed again? Perhaps she needed to give him more of her undivided attention.
She bent down and tucked the kitty into the bed. She was already looking healthier with clean fur. Anna removed her apron, smoothed her hair back in place, and unbuttoned the top button of her crisp blouse. She needed to spend time with her husband.
Edward lowered the paper when he heard Anna enter the room. He hadn’t been able to read the first line with all the angst he was feeling about the dilemma with the pets. He realized it was her nature to have such empathy, but he wanted a wife who spent her free time with him. Not three animals. The sooner she got rid of the kitten, the better.
“Cricket is fast asleep. Thank you for feeding the dogs for me. I appreciate it.” She sat down next to him on the couch, her hip touching his, and he felt warmth spread down his leg.
He laid the newspaper aside. “I didn’t mind. But Anna, you really must find a home for the kitten in the next couple of days.” He shifted to better see her face, and his eyes slid down to the narrow V at the top of her blouse, exposing the graceful curve of her neck as her chest rose and fell gently.
“I know. You told me. Do you remember what you said when you changed your mind about me keeping Baby?”
He groaned and rolled his eyes, knowing full well what he’d said.
“I’ve been thinking . . . until I can find homes for Moose and the kitten, what if I had a small area in the barn to put them in for part of the day?”
He looked at her sweet face full of hope. She reached out and ran her fingers lightly along the back of his neck where his hair curled, stroking it gently. He felt instant desire flash through him, and he had to control where his thoughts were taking him.
Perfectly Matched (The Blue Willow Brides Book #3): A Novel Page 10