Page 68 of Snowed Under

“See, babe, I told ya I’m not without skills.”

She steps to safety cradling Fudge, and I follow behind them. “You did good. I’ll check again with the realtor when it will be fixed,” she says as I walk over to the kitchen window and glance outside. I can’t see much, but we can certainly hear the wind whipping around the house and who knows how much snowfall we’ve already gotten. There’s a good chance the ground is going to be absolutely covered by morning. “It’s thick out there,” I say.

“I hope my mom’s okay.” She snuggles Fudge closer, nuzzling her face into his fur.

“As soon as we can leave before the storm gets any worse, we will. She’s safe at the hospital. We can try to stock up on supplies.” I tap the torch as it flickers. It’s tiny, she needs better equipment than this. “We’ll stop at the hardware first.”

She nods and smiles. “We should get some sleep. A nice warm body to cuddle up to sounds nice.”

My grin is a mile wide and despite the snowstorm rapidly increasing, my life feels fucking perfect right now. “Let’s cuddle.” She passes over Fudge and we head to bed for some much needed rest.

??

I wake up early in the morning, the power came back on overnight. Dawn is just breaking, but from the moment I look out the window, I see how dull and dreary it is out there. I know today is gonna be crazy.

I also know that town is going to be busy with everyone stocking up for the weekend. According to the early morning news on my phone, last night was just a mere taste of what’s to come.

Rolling my body over to Ainsley, I check my girl. A glance over her still little body and I hear the even stillness of her breath as she lays sleeping. As tempting as it is, I decide not to wake her. I throw on my sweater and sweatpants and head out to her kitchen to put some coffee on, instead.

As I walk around, I notice Fudge isn’t anywhere in sight. He was curled up on the bed with us last night. The cat bed in the kitchen is empty, too. I call out to him the way I always do, and he usually comes running in, his little bell alerting me to his presence. I pull out a bag of his favorite treats and jiggle them, but there’s nothing.

I figure he must’ve gone outside.

I switch the kettle on and quickly check the weather again on my phone while I find my socks and shoes. Nothing has changed with the snowfall coming in. In fact, we’ve gotten even more snow overnight. We weren’t even joking about being snowed under because it’s only going to get worse.

When Fudge still hasn’t emerged, I decide to go over to my place quickly and see if he’s gone over there. He’s not an outdoor cat, and we both forgot to lock the cat flap last night, so he could’ve gotten out on his own.

I assume he’s gone outside to do his business, or to my place to use his litter box, but with the conditions outside, a mild panic rises in my chest. I don’t see why else he would have gone over to my place, or why he wouldn’t be here.

I run a hand over my face as I step outside into the freezing morning air, rubbing my hands together as I curse. “Fudge,” I call out as I walk. “You out here, Fudgey?”

I cup my hands over my mouth and call out for him all the way back to my place. But he’s nowhere to be found there, either. I check all of his hiding spots.Where the fuck is he?

I run around to the front and see if I can see anything. The snowfall is covering any footprints that he would have left imprinted if he came out early this morning.

Fuck. Double fuck.

“Fudge!” I call louder. “Where are you?”

I decide to quickly make my way back to Ainsley’s to let her know I need to search the street when I hear the faint meow by the side of the house, right where our fences separate. Stopping in my tracks, I listen hard to where the noise is coming from, and edge closer to the bushes. I’ve still no idea what he’s doing out here. Fudgeisn’t the type to stray, especially with snow like this, he hates the cold.

It’s between the bushes that line the length of the fence line that I see a ginger tail moving. My heart jolts into my throat as Fudge comes padding out of the thin covering of snow on the path. His little bell tinkering, his coat wet and dark. “There you are!” I bend to scoop him up and pull him into my arms. He’s cold and very wet, but instead of snuggling into my body like he usually does, he meows and tries to wriggle free. I almost lose my footing as he practically springs out of my grasp and meows again, looking up at me, then turns his head in the direction of the bushes. Something other than me has clearly caught his attention. Hopefully not a dead rodent. I follow him back over to the fence, as he seems quite insistent on whatever he’s trying to tell me. I’m about to pick him up again and get back inside before we both freeze to death, when I hear another faint noise from behind the shrub. Another meow? Huh?

I bend down onto one knee as Fudge paws at the area, flicking up the snow with his front legs. Something I’ve never seen him do, other than on his scratching post. “Alright, Dad’s checking,” I tell him, patting him on the head as I look between the bushes to where the tiny little murmur is coming from.

It’s then I see something shift, a ball of fluff disguised as a little animal that appears to be stuck. I peer closely as the snow continues to fall relentlessly on both me and Fudge. Pulling back a handful of branches, it’s then I see two wary eyes staring into mine, belonging to a tiny, shivering kitten. Oh, double fuck.

I reach my hand into the small space as the kitten lets out a mewl and I pull him or her out of the shrub and into my chest. It’s tiny, but still alive, at least.But the poor little fur ball is a tired, weak little wet bundle of dark orange fluff and it’s meowing like crazy. “Let’s get you inside,” I say, quickly checking along the fence line to make sure there’s no other little kitties stranded. Then I bend to pick up Fudge again and hurry to Ainsley’s back door. “Good work, Fudgey.” I kiss him on the head as I nudge the door open and place him back on the ground, securing the cat flap behind me this time. I grab the nearest thing I can find, being Ainsley’s Christmas sweater, and wrap the shivering little guy up in it while I dash up the hallway to wake her.

She’s just stirring as I come barreling in. She’s rubbing her hands over her eyes. “Cole! What the…” Her eyes grow wide as I come over to the bed holding the little kitten.

“Fudge was missing,” I say in a rush. “I just found him outside. He was trying to help this little guy, I swear to God this cat thinks he’s a sniffer dog. I need to get him to Presley’s and dry off Fudge. He’s soaking, too.”

“Oh, my god.” Ainsley springs the covers back and leaps over toward me, throwing on my hoodie as she moves. Reaching out, I carefully pass her the kitten and she holds it in the crook of her arm close to her chest, still wrapped in her sweater. “I can’t believe this.”

“I know. We gotta keep it warm. I’ll get help.”

“I’ll call Pres,” she says. “Is Fudgey okay?”

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