Page 23 of Say Yes

The cat’s purr was more of a scratchy growl, and the first Sara had heard. It was clear to her the animal hadn’t led a pampered life. She’d taken one look at the poor creature and every nurturing instinct she owned had kicked in. The farmer who’d brought the cat in had hoped to escape the shelter’s costs by claiming it to be a future mother. He’d dropped off the box and left again all within a matter of moments. But the second the cat had been cautiously lifted free of the cardboard confines, it was obvious he was a tom.

That hadn’t deterred Sara. And while she’d pretended to believe the farmer’s story, she had put up with her friends’ amusement. What the heck? It had gotten the cat some pretty special treatment, and the truth was, she was almost embarrassed to admit she wanted the cat simply because he was alone and unwanted, a feeling she understood all too well.

She felt a strong affinity to a rather homely, bedraggled animal. And that wasn’t something she wanted to explain, even to her friends.

Gavin stood again and faced her. “Have you had this animal checked? He looks like he could be carrying any number of diseases.”

The cat rolled on the carpet, stretching and luxuriating in his freedom from the bow. Everywhere his big body touched, a patch of dull yellow cat hair remained. He desperately needed a good brushing.

“Jess is a vet, and he checked her…ah him, over. Other than a few scrapes—”

“And missing body parts.”

Sara nodded. “Yes. Other than the missing ear, he’s healthy. His tail is bent for good and his voice box is damaged, I’m afraid. There’s nothing we can do about that. But I have vitamins for him, and a good cat food that should put some shine back in his fur and—”

Sara was cut off as the cat decided he wanted more of Gavin’s attention and made a sudden, smooth lunge into his arms. Gavin had no choice but to catch the weight, which was considerable, Sara knew. He staggered, cursed, then reluctantly held the beast. There was a look of distaste on Gavin’s face, but still, he scratched the cat’s head with his free hand.

Amazed at the cat’s show of affection, Sara laughed. “Oh, Gavin, isn’t that sweet? He likes you.”

“Yeah. Sweet.” Gavin grimaced as the cat began to purr again, all but drowning out any attempt at normal conversation.

Satisfaction filled her, and Sara nodded in approval of Gavin’s attempt to treat the animal with kindness. “I think he feels indebted because you knew he was a male.”

“Uh-huh. Right.”

“Don’t look at me like I’m screwy. It was obvious he didn’t like that pink bow.”

“We men feel strongly about that sort of thing.”

“Wearing bows?”

“No. Having our masculinity questioned.”

“Ah.”

“Sara? Did you really believe this beast to be a…”

Before he could finish his question, she had the front door open and headed out. “I have a lot of stuff in the car yet. A litter box, a bed, the food. Will you keep an eye on Satin while I bring everything in?”

“Satin, hell. At least forget that name, will you?”

Chancing a glance at his face, Sara saw Gavin was resigned. She sighed in relief. “What should we call him?”

Looking at the cat as he considered her question, Gavin finally said, “With that vicious purr, Satan suits him well enough.”

“He does look like the very devil.”

To Sara’s surprise, Gavin became defensive of the cat. “Just because he’s not some prissy feline shouldn’t matter. He’s a good mouser, I bet.” Then he added, “I had a cat like him when I was a kid. He’d go out every so often and either come home the strutting victor of a romantic rendezvous, or a bedraggled soldier from battle. Either way, there was always a female involved somehow.” The cat rubbed his large head against Gavin’s chest in agreement, leaving a blotch of fur behind.

“Well,” Sara said on her way to the car, “his nights on the town will soon be curtailed. I’m going to have him neutered.”

The cat gave a loud hiss and Sara looked back to see him racing down the hall. Gavin scowled at her, then went after the cat, calling in soft sympathy, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…”

Everything was working out, Sara thought. Only two days ago, she was alone, without a single soul who cared. Now she had Gavin—no matter how temporary that arrangement might be—and she had a wonderful new pet. Not only that, the two males had bonded already.

Now, she thought, feeling lighthearted and happy and half-silly, the only thing missing in her life was lawn furniture, and it no longer seemed so important.

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