Page 25 of A Groom for Heather
Charity shook her head. “No. no. I don’t know what to do.” Heather noticed the woman’s hands were shaking and she was starting to sob.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Charity.”
“Wendy went out to the barn. One of the goats was mauled in the yard. Then she heard it.”
“Heard what?”
“A screaming like the devil himself was on the earth. She came running in. I went out, but the animal had gone. I saw fresh tracks in the dirt. There was a mountain lion in the barn.” Charity put her head in her hands. “It was so close to the house. What if it took one of my children? I couldn’t imagine.”
Heather felt her heart seize. It could have been her barn. Or her children. She moved over and rubbed Charity’s back lightly. “You get home to your family. We’ll take care of it.”
Charity nodded and Heather watched her friend walk up the road.
“Take care of it, Heather?” Dalton rubbed his hand down his face. “How do you suppose we take care of it?”
“Come on, Dalton, let’s go.” Heather started walking to the livery. “I have my horse and buggy here.”
“Where are we going? What about your patients?”
“I’ll get to them. No one is due immediately. As for where we are going, I’m going home and you’re going hunting.”
Chapter Eight
“Have you seen any more tracks?”
Dalton looked at Heather. It had been three days since Charity found the mountain lion in her barn. He returned his gaze to his meal and shook his head. “No. It looked like the tracks went off to the far side of the river.”
“Towards Wildcat Hill?”
“Wildcat Hill?”
Heather nodded. “Yes. There is a place Jackson talked about called Wildcat Hill. I guess it got its name from the mountain lions that live there.”
“Maybe.” He speared a potato and put it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “I figure that it must have been a momma cat and she was looking to feed her babies. It is spring after all.”
“Mama cat or not, I don’t want to think of a wild cat being that close to the house.” Heather ruffled Cecily’s hair. “That is why I don’t want you going outside.”
“Dalton can shoot it. He’s shot a lot of men,” Arthur said around a mouthful of stew beef.
Dalton’s gaze snapped to the small child. “Where did you hear that?”
“Don’t talk while you’re eating, Arthur. You could choke.” Heather pushed a cup of milk across the table. Arthur finished chewing and took a sip of milk before answering Dalton.
“Uncle Robert says that you hunted down and found many outlaws. He says there isn’t a man dead or alive that hides from you. You’re fa-fa, oh what’s the word?”
“Famous?” Cecily offered.
“That’s it. Famous.”
“Finding them and shooting them are two different things.” He didn’t want to have this conversation. Instead, he speared another chunk of potato and waved it in the air. “Dinner is really good, Heather.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I’ve not had a home-cooked meal in ages. Hollie’s Diner doesn’t count.”
“Mama made a wild strawberry pie,” Cecily said. “I helped her pick the berries.”
“I hope you like it,” Heather said softly.
