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It was when she pulled back into the driveway, smiling at him, that Henry’s tiger cried out with impatience.
Pay attention.
THREE
KIRSTEN
Kirsten had obviously never been a personal nanny before in her career, but she felt that she was up to the challenge with little Zara. She was a young, fresh baby who was rather easygoing when it came to newborns. She began nailing down a routine that suited her best, all with the added bonus of catching Henry’s massive frame walk in and out of her eye line.
It had been a long time since Kirsten actively dated, so she took her attraction to Henry as a simple case of touch starvation. The only people she interacted with were the parents of the preschoolers, along with some waiters and retail workers, the rare times she went out. The allure was fleeting, and she found herself climbing back behind the curtain of her routine to avoid yearning for more.
But she was working day in and day out with Henry around, popping in and out during mealtimes, and when he returned to the house to shower and change after work. When she moved in, he had told her about his wood carving business, which was inside a cabin and barn on the same property as the home where Kirsten took care of Zara. She was thankful that he wasn’t around all the time. His fragrance and beauty were far too distracting.
On her third day of caring for baby Zara, Kirsten was drinking coffee and gazing out of her bedroom window. She liked to give herself sometime in the morning to gather her thoughts and prepare for the day. Plus, her bedroom was a deliciously short distance from the cabin where Henry did most of his woodcarving. And the spacious area in the cabin was covered wall-to-wall with windows, giving her a flawless view of his strained pectorals and veiny biceps.
She held the mug to her lips and sighed to herself. There was something about him that was so intriguing, something that transcended mere looks. She had noticed his movements the day before, the way he would jolt upward from working as if he had heard something. His body language linked up with what she had been reading about the mountain area of Colorado, something about wild cats and their ferociousness.
Kirsten shook off the thought and indulged in enjoying his handsomeness, something she hadn’t done in what felt like a century.
She got Zara and, as she gazed out the window, began feeding her the bottle she had already warmed up. The entire landscape was sublime, sprinkled with pure white snow covering the pine trees in the distance and looking like a glass snow globe that had been shaken.
She was marveling at the sight when she heard Henry stomp up the stairs and into the bedroom. It startled her, turning to face him and seeing that his pupils were the size of the moon.
“I’ve got to head out for a bit,” he said, staring blankly. “Make sure you don’t go outside. Things aren’t safe out there right now.”
Henry didn’t give her a chance to respond because he nearly sprinted down the stairs and soared out the front door like a fire had broken out.
She was once again curious about him and proceeded to watch him each morning in his cabin. He didn’t flee out the door every single day, but fairly often, and he told her he needed to go into town or run an errand. And each time, he told her not to go outside and to be cautious because of the elusive wild cats.
Kirsten wanted to go outside, not only for herself but for the baby. They both needed fresh air, so she would slide the window open and breathe in the crispness. On the fourth day, she heard the faint sound of what Henry may have been talking about.
The purrs were loud and palpable, nearly making the ground below shake. For the sake of Zara, she placed her down in the cradle in the living room area, where she spent most of her time, then returned to take a brief step outside.
The sound intensified, as did Kirsten’s sense of apprehension. She walked around a little, then noticed the movement of a bush nearby.
She froze, her eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. She watched as a large cat-like creature, ears spiked and aware, climbed out of the snow-scattered hedge. Its fur was bright orange with flecks of brown, looking like a speckled tangerine thrown into a snow pile.
“That’s Malley.”
Henry appeared behind her suddenly, making her gasp and clutch at her chest. He was smiling when she turned, then wrapped her arms around her body from the cold.
“Jesus,” she whispered.
“Sorry,” he responded.
He held out a hand to her. Kirsten’s heartbeat moved up to her ears, which she was sure were blushing from the abrupt presence of her hunky employer.
Kirsten took his hand, and he helped her come inside. She slid the door closed and immediately looked over to see Zara fast asleep.
“I’m the one that should be sorry,” she said, rubbing her arms and avoiding eye contact with Henry. “I heard that loud purring again. Whose cat is that?”
Henry’s face broke out into a chuckle, which made Kirsten start to blush even more. He was a stoic looking man, so seeing him burst into uncontrollable laughter was starting to make her insides gush.
“Malley is sort of this neighborhood’s cat,” he said after finishing laughing. “She likes to come around here sometimes, so that’s probably what you’re hearing.”
Kirsten nodded, accepting his answer for the time being. She would later realize that the purring she’d heard was far too pronounced to be that of a moderately big cat but, frankly, not big enough. She let it go, mostly because Henry was wearing a long-sleeve t-shirt that looked like it was painted on him. She bit her lip and tried to hide it by clearing her throat and moving back to the baby.
“That’s good to know, thank you.”
