Page 2 of Reckless Harmony

“Freddie, baby, where’s Molly?” she asked. “Where is she?”

Freddie jumped out of the litter box and leaped onto the washing machine before taking another leap onto the wall shelf that held the laundry supplies. He curled up between the soap and the basket of odd socks before cocking one leg and licking his butt hole.

“Shit,” she said as she left the laundry room and headed back into the kitchen. She studied the room as Coco and Lola joined Bea, who had moved to a dog bed in the corner of the room. They climbed in beside her, curling up between her front legs as she snored loudly.

Her heart thumping, she walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway. “What the hell?” she said as she stared at the basement door. She always kept the basement door closed but it was currently open. Just a bit, but big enough for even a very pregnant cat to get through.

She ran to the door and flicked the light switch. She walked down the wooden steps, squinting in the dim light from the bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The basement was unfinished, and while she had plans to finish it someday, those plans hinged on both money and time - neither of which she currently had very much of.

“Molly, here, kitty, kitty,” she said. The basement was even colder than usual, and her heart clanked to a stop when she heard the tell-tale whistle of wind.

“No, no, no,” she repeated as she jogged across the basement in the direction of the whistling. The basement had three small windows, none big enough to egress. She stared in mute horror at the middle one and the broken glass that littered the floor below it. A large rock sat among the shattered glass, and she muttered a curse. Who the hell would try to break in through the basement window? And why? It’s not like she had anything of value in the place.

She froze as she stared at the hole in the glass. The window might have been too small for a human to crawl through, but it was more than big enough for a cat determined to get outside. And Molly was forever making a break for the outdoors. She’d spent at least a year outside before being taken in by the rescue, and despite being heavily pregnant and the cold weather, she was convinced her destiny waited for her beyond the house.

Using her phone’s flashlight, Rayna studied the glass, whispering, “Oh shit” under her breath when she saw the bit of orange fur clinging to the broken glass. Molly had escaped.

CHAPTER 2

Rayna ran back upstairs, dropping her phone on the counter and snatching the high-powered flashlight from under the sink. She shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed the plastic container of cat treats before clattering out the back door. The basement window faced the backyard, and the brief hope that Molly might be in the fenced-in yard died as she swept the yard with her flashlight.

“Molly,” she called, “here, kitty, kitty. Come to Mama.” She shook the container hard, then waited, holding her breath and trying to hear over the pounding beat of her heart for Molly’s distinctive meow.

She shook the container again and again as she walked the yard, searching every inch of it, her flashlight piercing the darkness. Her nose and ears started to burn from the cold, and her teeth chattered, but she kept grimly calling. Beyond the yard was nothing but woods filled with animals more than happy to devour a cat-sized snack.

“Molly,” she called, making her voice the high-pitched wheedle that cats loved. “Here, kitty, kitty.”

She listened intently, relief washing over her when she heard Molly’s meow. “Molly! Here, kitty, kitty!”

Molly meowed and then kept meowing as the moonlight made the snow gleam. Shivering wildly, Rayna followed the sound across the yard to the fence. She could hear Molly meowing, but she couldn’t see her anywhere, and she swept the flashlight along the top of the fence, wondering if the cat wasn’t balancing on it like a furry tightrope walker.

It was empty and feeling panicky, she called for Molly again. Molly responded with a loud meow that sounded like it was right above Rayna’s head. Her stomach landed in the snow at her feet as she shone the flashlight at the big elm tree in the yard beside hers.

“Oh, Molly,” she said.

The cat meowed at her from her perch on one of the branches. Rayna shook the container again, “C’mon, sweetheart, come down from the tree.”

Molly stood and stretched in the circle of light, her pregnant belly lightly swaying as she walked back and forth on the narrow branch before making a plaintive meow.

“Oh honey, come on, please,” Rayna said as her teeth chattered loudly. “You got up there. You can get down. Please?”

Molly meowed again before settling on her haunches on the branch and staring directly at Rayna. She could practically see the ‘help me, Mama’ look in the cat’s green eyes.

“Well, fuck,” she muttered before glancing at the house beside hers. A few months ago, she would have just walked into the backyard without any hesitation, but that was when Josie Walters owned it.

Now, the house and the land were owned by resident millionaire, cocky asshole, and her sworn enemy, Isaac Stark. A man with more money than God and an attitude to match. He’d bought Josie’s property, along with Sean Barr’s property to the left of Josie’s. Now, he wanted Rayna’s property, as well.

He’d spent the last few months offering increasingly higher offers through his real estate agent until he’d finally shown up in person on her doorstep. They’d hated each other on sight, and after calling him out on his less-than-subtle threats to make noise complaints and/or get her rescue shut down, he’d given her his final offer for the property. Although way above the value of her property, it still hadn’t been enough to sway her. She’d told him to get the hell out of her house and she hadn’t seen or spoken to him since. Thank God.

Oh, please. You wish you could see him. He’s hot as fucking hell, and you know it.

Fine. Maybe she could appreciate how aesthetically pleasing he was to the eye, but he was also an arrogant asshole who thought Rayna would say how high just because he said jump. She’d garnered an immense amount of satisfaction from refusing to give him what he wanted like everyone else in his life apparently did.

She sighed and studied the cat in the tree. Not selling him her house was a stupid decision. With the money he’d offered, she could get a better house and have plenty of money left over to not just keep her animal rescue going but also improve it.

Despite that, she couldn’t sell the house. She loved her home, and after growing up in poverty and moving from rental to rental every few months, her ability to not only stay above the poverty line but also do something as incredible as buy a house on her own meant something to her. This house meant something to her, and despite its flaws and how many things needed to be fixed - and there were so many things - she couldn’t see herself living anywhere else.

Molly meowed again, and Rayna stopped hesitating. She shut the flashlight off, tossed it and the cat treats over the fence and said, “I’m coming, sweetheart.”

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