“I am tonight. And hopefully tomorrow.” Travis stared him in the eye. “I’m going to try and stay sober. I dumped out all the whiskey, and since there’s no getting to the store in the next day or two, it’s a start.” He glanced at Bobby, “Hey, I heard you were looking for a black-and-white cat.”
Bobby nodded sleepily. “Cleo.”
“Pregnant, right?”
“Yeah. She ran away during the hailstorm Saturday night. I’m worried about her, so if you can look for her tomorrow?” he added hopefully.
“Well, I think I found her. Look in the pantry, but slowly. Don’t spook her.”
Bobby’s eyes widened, and with more energy than he had since Jake found him that afternoon, he half ran, half limped through the kitchen and then slowly opened the pantry door. He peered inside, then he closed it quietly and turned around, a huge grin on his face. “You found her! She has kittens!”
“Four,” Travis said. “She had them at the bottom of the stairs leading to the cellar. And I can’t take the credit, Titan found her and alerted me.”
Bobby sat in the kitchen chair and said, “I was so worried, but I knew she was a smart cat. I knew she would find a safe place!”
Jake glanced at Travis. The bottom of the stairs wouldn’t have been safe during this storm, the cellar had a pump, but with rain like this, it would have deep standing water until the pump could catch up.
“I’m glad I found her in time,” Travis said. “You got no shoes on, kid. Look at your feet.”
“I lost them in the mud when I was running from the bad woman.”
Travis looked at Jake. “What?”
“Long story,” Jake said. “Bobby, your feet are a mess.” They were caked with mud, appeared to have cuts all over them, and one toe was bleeding quite a bit. Jake was surprised he could walk at all.
“Come on, kid,” Travis said, “I’ll clean you up.”
Jake carried his brother into the bathroom. While Travis gently cleaned and bandaged Bobby’s feet, Jake told him what happened that day. He hadn’t intended to share, but Jake needed help—and sober Uncle Travis was a lot smarter and more dependable than drunk Uncle Travis.
When Travis was done cleaning Bobby’s wounds, he handed Bobby a T-shirt to change into; the faded army shirt went to his knees. Jake carried Bobby to the couch. Timber looked up and licked the air, as if greeting him. Titan jumped onto the couch and lay down with Bobby. Travis spread out an old handmade quilt, and Bobby happily petted Titan.
“I need to call Mom,” Jake said. “Cells have no reception right now, and the radio died.”
Travis handed him the house phone, and Jake dialed home. It rang once. Then again. And again.
No answer.
Not even the machine.
He hung up and tried again. Same result.
“The lines must be down,” Jake said as he hung up, his gut twisted at all the things that could be wrong at his house. “Can you keep an eye on him?” Jake nodded toward Bobby, his voice tight. “I need to go home, but I might have to hoof it part of the way and Bobby is in no condition to walk.”
Travis stood. “We’ll both go. I’m not gonna sit on my ass when my family might be in danger.”
“You sure?”
Travis was already pulling on his boots. The metal around his artificial leg creaked. “Bobby can stay here. Dogs’ll keep him company. If we get stuck or have to walk, we can’t leave him in the truck.”
Travis was right. Bobby sat up, clearly fine with being alone here. “I’ll be okay. I know where everything is, and I’ll take care of the dogs and Cleo.”
Jake paused, uncertain, but both Bobby and Travis seemed satisfied with this decision. He kissed the top of his brother’s head and said, “Keep the door locked, don’t open it for anyone until we get back.”
“Promise,” Bobby said. “Titan is a good watch dog, he’ll let me know if anything is wrong.”
Travis scratched Titan’s head. “That he will.”
Then Jake and Travis walked back out into the rain.
