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“About all we’ve got is water and sandwiches.”
“Water, for sure. She’ll need that. And we can pull out cheese and bits of meat from our sandwiches. If she’s hungry enough, she’ll eat it.”
“Good idea. I’m getting hungry. Maybe we should stay inside and eat, too.”
Portia kept her eyes fixed on the new little family. “I’d like that.”
Outside the wind howled. The refuge they’d found would do for now until the weather let up. Portia worked with Juan Carlos to fix the mama cat a meal of beef and cheese, and laid it out on a cloth napkin. She was at a loss as to where to put the water. They had narrow-necked bottles and not much else that would work for a bowl.
“Here,” Juan Carlos said, handing her his hat, tipped upside down in his palm. “She needs it more than I do.”
Under the dim flashlight rays, his eyes were full of compassion. He was a problem solver, but it was more than that. He was doing this as much for Portia’s sake as he was for the sweet cat family. “You’ll freeze your head off when we go back out there.”
“Not if we stay here overnight.”
Her heart skipped. To be alone with Juan Carlos all night? She couldn’t possibly. He didn’t mean it. It was hard enough knowing he was sleeping down the hallway at the farmhouse. “Surely, we can’t.”
His eyes twinkled. “It was a nice thought, though. Being trapped in here with you all night...to watch over the kittens.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks. Suddenly, the cold dank cave sizzled with heat. She coughed, to cover errant thoughts of spending the night with Juan Carlos, of wearing nothing but a blanket to keep each other warm. His arms would wrap around her, and then their bare bodies would conform, mesh and he would nudge himself inside her.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
He knew. The sparkle in his eyes lit up even brighter.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Perfectly,” she snapped. Goodness, she sounded like a witch.
He shrugged a shoulder, a smile teasing his lips as he handed her the cat’s meal. “Do you want to take it to her?”
She nodded, recovering from the image that had sprung up in her head. “I’ll try. I hope she doesn’t run.”
Portia took pained steps toward the cat, catching her eye and hoping her slow movements would show her she wasn’t a threat. The cat’s tail tensed and arched, her head came up and those tigerlike eyes watched her every move. Then she meowed.
“It’s okay, sweet mama. I don’t want to hurt you. Look, I have food. I hope you’ll eat it.”
The cat hissed, but she was just protecting her young. “This is as far as I’ll go,” Portia said softly. “See.” She set down the napkin two feet from her and as soon as she backed away, the cat sniffed at it. “Put the hat down carefully,” she said to Juan Carlos. He was only half a step behind and he set the water down next to the food. Then his hand clamped over her arm as he guided her several feet back, the beam of light dimming on the mama cat.
“Chances are, she won’t eat or drink anything until she gives everything a complete smell test.”
“We’ve done what we could for them,” Juan Carlos said. “They are cute.”
“Adorable,” Portia said. The fuzzy fur babies were nestled against mama cat’s underside, many of them satisfied and ready to nap.
Juan Carlos spread the blanket out and they began eating their sandwiches. Nibbling on her sliced steak sandwich sitting cross-legged, her eyes kept darting over to the cats.
“She’ll eat eventually,” Juan Carlos said.
“She’s starving, but she won’t make a move until we leave.”
“Then we’ll go as soon as we finish up here.”
She nodded and within a few minutes, Portia was back atop Sugar, waiting for Juan Carlos to take his mount. She was torn about leaving the kittens in there, hoping the mama would survive the cold and be able to care for her young babes. How would she feed herself after the food they left behind was gone?
“Where to next?” Portia asked, blinking away tears, trying to distract herself from the sick feeling in her gut. She was a softie when it came to animals.
He stared into her eyes and smiled. “They’ll survive. Don’t worry.”
He’d read her mind, but unlike most people, Portia didn’t believe cats had nine lives. Sometimes, they couldn’t beat the odds. If only this wasn’t one of those times. She mustered a smile, but her heart wasn’t in it.
