Black Cat and the Accidental Angel (Black Cat Mysteries Book 3) (34 page)

Cindy looked up between her dark lashes, and then put her hand over her mouth.

Amanda giggled and ran to hide behind Kimberlee’s skirt.

Jack fell to the grass, laughing until tears rolled down his cheeks. “Can’t you just imagine what that chick was sayin’?
“Eh? Holy mother of Phoenix
…
monster
…
dog. Run
!’” He roared with laughter as Chance hopped on his back, barking.

“Hey John, don’t be mad. I haven’t laughed so hard for weeks. A perfect end to an already terrific day.” Brett gasped for breath and using the tail of his shirt, wiped tears from his eyes. “Let the girls off the hook. We should drink a toast to Gilbert’s baby. He’s the life of the party.”

John strode back to the picnic table, shaking his head. “Those girls…”

“Did you see how I headed him off when he reached the porch?” Jack laughed, reached over and rubbed his hands over Chance’s ears.

“I nearly had him at the woodpile.” John chuckled.

“Jack, you were panting like a steam engine out there on the lawn. I’ve never seen anything so funny.” Brett clutched his ribs, chuckling and shaking with laughter.

“I haven’t laughed so hard since the house paint fell on Brett’s head.” Kimberlee leaned over the picnic table, grinning. She patted the girls’ shoulders and reached for her glass. “A toast to Gilbert’s baby. May he never find himself the main course at another picnic! May he always be as happy as he was in the middle of the potato salad.”

“Hear! Hear! Should I bring Gilbert’s baby to Fern Lake when we come for the Festival?” John pulled Cindy into his arms and swung her in a circle.

“No!” The guests cried in unison.

Thumper stretched out on the bedroom floor. The sound of raucous laughter outside finally died down.
About time they stopped their foolish jocularity. Shouldn’t they be getting ready to leave?
As much as he loved John and Cindy, he was anxious to get home and show Angel all the neat things at the Fern Lake house and on the dock. “Now that they’ve settled down out there, Angel, let’s take one last walk down by the vineyard, like we’ve done so many times before.”

His Angel slipped out from under the bed, her hoodie scraping the bedframe.

He trotted to the door and meowed.

The door creaked open. “Oh, Black Cat. You missed all the fun.” Cindy stooped to stroke his head. “Daddy looked so funny chasing Gilbert’s baby.”

I guess that’s what the whoop-la was all about and we missed it all. Drat! He rolled his eyes. “Come on Angel.”

Angel ducked her head, swinging the hoodie to the side and stepped out the door onto the porch. She followed him across the grass and past their
persons
still seated at the picnic table.

Thumper wandered down the path toward the Emu cage with Angel at his side.

“I want to say good-bye to the Emus.” He paused beside the gate. This was likely the last time he’d see the awkward birds that had become so familiar over the past months.

The baby birds danced up to the fence and peered through the wire. “It’s hard to believe, but I think I’m actually going to miss them.” Inside the wire, naughty Gilbert’s baby, now the epitome of obedience, followed his papa, pecking bugs left and right, as though his escape from confinement and the Wild Emu Chase had never happened.

“Are we about done here?” Angel turned back toward the house. “I want to spend every minute we can with Faith and Rambo. We don’t have much more time with them.”

Thumper flicked an ear. “What’s going on with you? We haven’t been gone five minutes. You don’t seem very happy about going back to our real home.”

Angel looked back at the porch where Cindy and Amanda were giggling on the swing. She turned toward Thumper, her ears pulled down inside her hoodie. “You mean we’re going back to
your
real home, don’t you? What about me? I lived in Texas and you took me away. Now, we live on an Emu ranch in Nevada City, and you want to take me away again. Maybe I just don’t belong anywhere.”

“Why Angel, how can you say that?” Thumper sat back on his haunches. “We belong together with Brett and Kimberlee.”

Angel turned her nose up in a pout, the hoodie surrounding her head like Queen Elizabeth’s collar. “I’m used to things here. Maybe I don’t want to go. Maybe I want to stay here with John and Cindy. Maybe I feel like this is
my real home
.” She looked toward the house, moving the large plastic hoodie as she turned her body.

Thumper dropped his head. How could he have been so blind? It hadn’t even entered his head how Angel might feel about leaving John and Cindy.

But, about her not wanting to come with him to California? That wasn’t exactly true. She wanted to come with him; she’d more than made that clear. He wouldn’t argue that point right now. After all this time on the Emu ranch, it was understandable that she’d become devoted to John and Cindy. Did she think it was easy for him to leave?

He shook his head to clear his mind. She was right about one thing. No one asked her how she felt about returning to Fern Lake. She was lying in the vet’s office with her head smacked in when Kimberlee called. She had no sooner come home from the hospital when here comes Kimberlee, someone she barely remembered, taking her away from her last two kittens and
her
new
persons
. No one had asked what she thought about any of it.

He opened his mouth to speak. What could he say? Would it make any difference to tell her, yet again, how much he loved her? She knew that. She’d opened her heart and bared her soul, sharing her deepest feelings. Wouldn’t his vows of undying love or any amount of begging invalidate her feelings? He wouldn’t negate her pain by arguing. He closed his mouth.

Angel turned and stomped back to the house.

Thumper followed through the door and found her lying on the blanket by the stove.

“Wait. Angel, listen… I…” His gaze moved from Angel to the kittens playing under the table. No words of wisdom had popped into his head between the vineyard and the house. Her concerns were valid and his heart ached, knowing that she was unhappy with the decision made behind her back and without her consent.

Rambo scurried across the room and hopped onto the blanket, where he began to nuzzle his mother.

Angel hissed and boxed his ears.

Rambo jumped back, his eyes bright, his little tail bushed out like a tiny bottlebrush.

“Man up, Rambo!” Angel rolled over and turned her back to the little fellow. “You’re seven weeks old. Go eat from the Friskies bowl. I can’t be your lunch wagon forever!”

Rambo shook his head and hunkered down on the blanket next to his mother. What a painful, first
life-lesson
. No more free lunch. He waddled over to the Friskies bowl, took a couple of mouthfuls and then lapped water from the water dish.

“Angel. Weren’t you a bit hard on the boy?” Thumper’s ears tingled. They’d be leaving soon and they’d never see their babies again. How could Angel be so cruel? Was that the last thing she wanted Rambo to remember about his mother?

“Hard on the boy? You don’t understand. Apparently, we’re leaving in a few minutes, whether I like it or not and he isn’t coming with us. The hardest thing a mother can do is tell her son to
man-up
, that she won’t be there to help him any longer, that there’s no more
tittie-milk
. He’ll be on his own for the rest of his life. Do you have any idea how much that hurts? Do you have any idea how it breaks a mother’s heart to pretend she doesn’t care, so her son has the courage to turn away, often in anger, and stand on his own four feet?”

“Angel. What can I say? I…I didn’t understand. Forgive me.” Thumper hung his head, the lump in his throat almost choking him. “I think I understand now.” He slumped on the blanket and swallowed hard. “You don’t want to come with me.”

Angel rolled over, turning her back. “Don’t say that. I…I don’t know what I want.” She sighed. “I’m so confused. The last thing I want is to hurt you. Maybe I should hide somewhere so they can’t find me when they leave. I don’t have that much longer, anyway. It might be easier for you if we made a clean break now…instead of later…when
he
…calls…and I have to go.” She put her head down on the blanket. The hoodie smacked the rug. She twisted. “I hate this thing!”

Now, what is she talking about?
It didn’t make sense. His thoughts were still muddled by Angel’s rejection of Rambo and her heart-wrenching confession. Then her words came back to him.
It might be easier to make a clean break now
…
instead of later
…
when he calls
…

Angel… He crept closer to her, still trying to make sense of it. When he calls? St. Peter? They never had a chance to talk about this.
She’s thinking of me.
She wants to spare me the pain of watching her die.
She still thinks she’s going to die.
Oh, my darling!

“Angel, listen to me.” He lifted her hoodie with his paw until their eyes met.

She closed her eyes.

“I said, listen to me. If St. Peter was ever going to take you, don’t you think it would have been when the mama hit you with the poker? You almost died then, but you didn’t! You misunderstood what St. Peter meant. Think a minute. Tell me his exact words.”

“He said I could come back until the babies were born and had homes, until you got your memory back and for as long as you needed me.”

“For as long as I need you? Don’t you understand? Angel. I’m
always
going to need you. He didn’t mean you only had a little while on earth to accomplish an assignment. He gave you back your life, another chance to live, to raise the kittens, to help John rescue his ranch, to bring Peter into our lives so Kimberlee could find us. He meant that you could be with me always. You’re so special. You’ve touched so many lives, and you have so much more to give. You’re not going anywhere. You do understand, don’t you?”

She opened one eye and peered into his face.

He nodded, his heart thumping. Please, God, help me make her understand.

She opened the other eye, her black irises enlarged, the hoodie lifting from the blanket. “Oh!” Her whiskers twitched. The troubled look in her eyes melted away. “Are you sure that’s what he meant? I’m not going to die?”

“Not any time soon. Listen. Come back with me to Fern Lake. John and Cindy will come to visit. Before long, you’ll love Kimberlee as much as John and Cindy, and she’ll be your own special
person.
We’ll have new adventures. Instead of a horse ranch, or an Emu farm, we’ll live next to the lake. We’ll watch the sun rise over the hills all pink and yellow and watch it slide into the lake every night all red and golden.

“What about Rambo and Faith? How can I bear to leave them? They haven’t found their forever homes yet.”

“Didn’t you hear John? Rambo and Faith are staying right here on the ranch with John and Cindy where they’ll be loved. We’ve taught them all they need to know. They have the ancestors’ memories to guide them, just like the other two girls. All our babies have good homes, now. They’ll all have long and happy lives.”

Angel’s eyes glowed in the afternoon light.

“Listen. I hear Kimberlee and Brett and John coming onto the porch. They must be about ready to leave. Run, get your favorite toy and kiss the babies good-bye.”

Angel nuzzled the kittens, and then raced into the bedroom. She returned with her favorite squeaky mouse gripped tight in her teeth. “I’m
weady
.” The fur rippled down her golden back. Even with the hoodie restricting her movements, she wiggled with joy.

A patch of sunlight shined through the window. The rays bounced off her golden head and shined like a halo.
A halo around my Angel’s head.

Kimberlee opened the front door. “Thumper? Angel? Are you ready?”