Page 14 of Cowboy’s Christmas Baker

They headed to the front of the house together, where Katie was still curled up on the ground, holding her hand out.

“That your little girl?” Brian asked with a grin.

“That’s Katie,” Harrison said, nodding. “She’s trying to tame a cat.”

“Skinny little striped thing?” Brian called out to Katie.

She looked up with interest, nodding her head.

“That’s the runt,” Brian told her. “The other kittens wouldn’t have anything to do with him. He’s six months old now, I’d say. Whatcha got there for him?”

“Granola bar,” Katie said, frowning.

“There’s milk in the house,” Brian said. “Mr. Radcliffe had me leave a few things for you—loaf of bread, can of tuna, jar of peanut butter, that kind of thing. He might come to you if you have milk or tuna.”

“Can I, Dad?” Katie asked, her eyes lighting up.

“Sure,” Harrison told her.

She was scrambling up the steps before he could say another word.

“Sweet little thing,” Brian declared, watching after her.

“I’m hoping she likes it here,” Harrison said, his eyes on the ground. “It’s been hard since she lost her mom.”

“Hey, I’m sorry to hear that,” Brian said, his voice deepening with sincerity.

“Thanks,” Harrison said, hating the sympathy, even though it was genuine. “We’ll talk later.”

“Sure will,” Brian said. “I actually parked back by the barn, so I’m off.”

“Good enough,” Harrison said, waving to him.

“I opened the tuna,” Katie called out breathlessly as she ran back out of the house with a chunk of tuna on a china plate.

He watched her crouch down by the porch again. This time, she placed the plate down and backed up a little.

He meant to go on inside and see what else was there so he could make a grocery list. But something about the way Katie was focused on the shadows beneath the porch was so arresting that he couldn’t seem to move.

The wind picked up, but his fierce little girl stayed perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the darkness.

A moment later, the shadows seemed to move as the little cat stole from his hiding place on silent paws.

He was obviously still scared—low to the ground, tail curled under—but the scent coming off the plate must have been irresistible.

Katie didn’t move, but Harrison could sense the excitement coming off her in waves.

The cat stopped a foot away from the plate, sniffed at the air, then ventured a little closer.

Harrison held his breath.

When Katie still didn’t move and the plate didn’t attack, the little fellow was apparently satisfied.

The next thing Harrison knew, the hungry little creature was lapping at the tuna, bolting it down and then licking the plate.

“Good job,” Katie crooned softly. “That’s so nice to eat.”

The cat looked up at her, ears back, and flicked his pretty tail, clearly displeased.