“I built this.” Trying to lighten the mood back up, I point to the pergola above us with my spoon. The wooden structure is a reminder of when I didn’t have so many questions about my dad.I was working next to him, and he’d make it known what he was thinking. “Me and the guys.”
Her eyes light up. “I heard. Ransom said it took two attempts to get it right.”
“Someone didn’t make sure everything was square.”
She grins. “Was that someone you?”
“No, it was Dad.” I laugh at the memory. He was ready to explode until he realized it was his measurement error. After that, we joked about measuring once and cutting twice.
We fall into an easy silence while we eat, and memories flutter through my mind like the little white cabbage moths along the tall grass. There were lazy days when Mama would pack a picnic and Dad would begrudgingly put all our ranch work on hold. Impromptu lunches didn’t happen as much after Jules Creek opened, but Mama managed to lay out a few on this very patio. This is nothing like sitting in my office, eating through a phone call or a teleconference.
“That really hit the spot.” She rolls up her sub wrapper and stuffs it into her soup container. “So did the weekend of rest. Thank you.”
She’s shy Meredith again. “You needed it.” I needed it too. I’m starting to worry I need her. How ragged will she run herself when she’s alone?
“I really did.” She licks her bottom lip, and I’m about to pull her onto my lap and consider what we can get away with in our half-secluded spot. Just as I’m about to move, she jumps up. “What’s that? Did you hear it?”
When I’m focused on her, I notice little else. Then a tiny meow reaches me.
“Is that a cat?”
“It wouldn’t be the first I’ve found out here.” She starts stalking through the yard around the brewery, arcing closer to the fence. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Pspsps.”
Sawyer’s the vet. I’ve seen Meredith give Blue belly rubs, cuddle a few barn cats, and snatch up a chicken for some loves, but I’ve never seen her this excited around animals. Like me, she’s usually working too much to enjoy the moment.
She crouches to look through the grass. “Kitty?”
I gather all the garbage, dump it in the deli bag, and set it inside the brewery door. I wipe my hands off and join her. Two steps off the concrete slab, another meow stops me in my tracks. A scrawny calico cat trots up to me, her primordial pouch swinging. Mama was militant about fixing our barn cats and dogs to keep them from overrunning the place. She often traded eggs and roasters with the vet to keep costs down, or we would’ve gone bankrupt. But I’ve seen enough mama cats to know when they have a litter on them.
She twines around my legs, and my stomach sinks. This isn’t some stray, and the nearest farmhouse is miles away. I pick her up, and her purr ignites immediately.
“Shit.”
When I look up, Meredith is watching me, dismay in her eyes.
“She got dumped?”
I nod grimly. “I forgot about this side effect of being far enough from town but not too isolated. People talk themselves into dumping animals, thinking they’ll get found.”
“There was a goat once.”
Makes me grateful for a cat. “There’s no barn goat at home. What did you do with it?”
She grins. “Sawyer found it a new place to live. He’s a happy billy goat with his pen mate to be nice and stinky with.” She whips around, her braid flying. “I hear more meows.”
The cat starts wiggling in my grip. She must be hungry, and if she has kittens somewhere, they might be famished. I take out my phone and put in another order with a generous tip. By thetime I’m done, Meredith’s out of sight. I find her bent over a beat-up box.
“They hid them by the fence.” She holds up two fingers. Two kittens.
The mama cat runs to Meredith, meowing, but she veers off before reaching them. Another kitten? I follow the cat, and a tiny orange kitten beelines out of the taller grasses by the fence, its fuzzy tail straight in the air. His belly’s rounder than his mom’s, but that could be from worms. I pick him up.
Meredith squats by the other two, absentmindedly petting the mama cat while checking over the two kittens. “Two little torties.” She frowns. “One’s got gunky eyes, and the other just sneezed.” She digs out her phone, pokes the screen a few times, and then puts it to her ear. “Hey, how busy are you? A cat and her litter got dumped. Four total. Can you? That’d be awesome. Thanks.”
She hangs up and lifts the mama cat with her when she rises. The purring gets louder the closer I get, and Meredith itches her ears. My kitten is already asleep, tucked into the crook of my arm.
“Sawyer’s on her way?”
“Yep.” Meredith’s eyes melt when she sees the kitten. “That’s the cutest thing ever.” She juggles the cat to take a picture of me.
