Eyes of the Cat (39 page)

“Oh no!” Tabitha scrambled out of Alan’s arms and raced after her.

“Tabitha!” he shouted. “What—”

“I have to stop her! That box is the disintegration ray my father has been working on, I’m sure of it,” she shouted back. “Kathy, wait! You don’t know how to use that!”

“Yes I do. Simon had it in his room, and when I asked him about it, he explained the whole process to me—the big showoff,” Kathy called over her shoulder. “It’s safer than I thought it was, too. It doesn’t disintegrate
everything
—just certain kinds of rock and sand. I can make a fortune with this!”

“You won’t live long enough to make anything!” a disheveled Simon Elliott growled, lunging past Tabitha with remarkable speed considering the mahogany headboard he was handcuffed to and dragging behind himself. “Wait till I get my hands on you, you little ally cat!”

“However did he get his ankles free from the footboard? I’m beginning to believe he
is
a wizard,” Kathy muttered, holding the box forward and manipulating several buttons and levers as she darted straight for the nearest part of the bailey wall.

Without a sound, six feet of solid adobe dissolved into a doorway size view of the footbridge spanning the moat and the palisade beyond.

Without a word, a two-legged cat was across the bridge, through another instant opening in the palisade, and dashing for the corrals, with the lord and lady of the castle, a loudly cursing Texas Ranger, and a battered mahogany headboard hot on her heels. Never missing a stride, she vaulted two fences in her Kid Connors pants and landed smoothly on a glossy black back.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Alan! Good luck with your new life, Tabitha!” she called as her mount sailed over the corral gate. “
Adíos, mí amor
—I’ll take good care of Esmeralda for you!”

“Damn… Did you hear what she had the nerve to call me?
Mí amor
…her
love
,” Simon said, his eyes like thunderclouds as he stared after her. “And the little minx has
stolen
my horse again!”

That’s not all she’s taken from you, Tabitha thought, watching him watch his wife disappear into the night. Judging by the man’s expression, it looked to her that Kathy had also stolen his heart. But she wasn’t sure if Simon realized that yet.

“Never mind, lad. The best brides are worth a bit of a chase,” Alan said, with a wink that turned his own bride bright pink. “As soon as we chop that headboard off you, you can borrow my stallion. Even with her head start, he ought to be able to catch that wild mare of yours.”

“You’re right,” Simon agreed, still staring into the night. “And he can outrun Petunia, too.”

* * *

“I suppose he will catch her eventually. I just hope he won’t be too angry with her when he does,” Tabitha said, approaching the new entrance in the bailey wall some long, lingering moments later. It had been a slow walk back from the corrals, what with the stopping every few steps to kiss and cling and kiss again.

“I hope
she
won’t be too angry with
him
.” Alan’s chuckle rumbled against her as he pulled her into another embrace in the shelter of the wall’s opening. “That’s one wayward lassie Smoke has tied himself to.”

“Tied?” Her gaze flashed accusingly to his. “Is that what marriage means to you? Being
tied
to someone?”

“’Tis an idea you once had yourself, you know, that marriage is some sort of bondage.”

“True,” she conceded, beginning to understand where this might be leading as his arms drew her closer. “But I know differently now, don’t I?”

“Do you, dear? Honestly?”

“What do you think?” she teased, deciding to let him fish for it as long as possible. It was so deliciously cozy, after all, in this snug little tunnel her father’s ray had created. And her feet had just discovered a convenient perch that allowed her to meet those captivating amber eyes on level—to say nothing of those captivating lips.

“I think…” the lips began, then paused as the eyes blinked in surprise. “I think that either I’ve just shrunk or you’ve grown.”

“Neither. I’m on a pedestal.” She grinned. “There must have been something metal imbedded in this wall.”

“Metal?”

“Yes,” Tabitha said, sorry she’d mentioned it. “This is a poor moment to discuss it, if you want my opinion, but the ray has no effect on metals. That’s why it should be so useful for mining. It can uncover ore and extract it at the same ti-
ime
!” She squealed as he swung her off the perch and dropped to his knees.

“Alan, wh—”

“Bloody hell, this is it.” He squinted through the shadows at the small iron casket she’d been standing on.

Suddenly shivering without being sure why, Tabitha found herself inching away from it, weird prickles crawling over her, like bugs.

“This is…what?” she whispered, her voice echoing like a ghost’s in her ears.

“The Panther’s ashes… And the cat’s.”

“No!” She turned to flee.

A warm grip hauled her back by the wrist.

“This is what I was trying to tell you before, that Elspeth’s cat never survived her rescue. A stray bullet caught him as he ran through the courtyard that day. His body was burned along with the Panther’s. They put all the ashes in this chest and sealed it into a wall. This wall.” Alan pulled her down to kneel beside him, locking her in an embrace that somehow did nothing to stop her shivering. “Your family couldn’t have known that part of the story. It happened after Elspeth was carried off. And my grandmother usually omits it when she tells the tale. She knows the truth, mind you, but she prefers to ignore it. She admired the Panther’s bravery so much, and his loyalty to Elspeth, it’s been a comfort to her all these years to pretend he escaped.”

“There was no pretending about it,” Tabitha said hollowly.

“Aye, dear. Jeremy wasn’t the only one picking brains today. I was able to read his memories even as he was reading mine. I understand now that the Panther did escape… But Caliban didn’t.”

“Then there must be another cat, one who looks like him,” she insisted, refusing to admit what she already knew was true. “Maybe he left offspring. Maybe my cat is his great-great-grandson, or something.”

“A nice thought, but impossible. There’ve been no cats at the castle since his time. Most of the clan has a superstitious fear of them. Although I’ve been trying to dispel that fear. I’d like to import some cats to take care of the rats and mice. You may have noticed we’ve a wee bit of a rodent problem here.”

“No!
Really
?”

Sudden laughter poured out of her—a better release than the tears she’d been holding at bay—more cleansing than rain. The sound of it was so infectious, it swept Alan straight into its stream, until they were both laughing so hard they lost their balance and fell forward in each others arms, accidentally springing the lock on the chest and jarring its lid back.

The laughter stopped.

“Oh no… It can’t be. Someone must have put it here while we were seeing Captain Elliott off.”

“A possibility, I suppose.” Alan stared with her into the center of the box. “Who, though? There’s been no one out tonight but us. I doubt anyone else even knows this wall has been opened. The hole’s not been here a half-hour yet. And before that…”

“Before that, this chest was sealed in six feet of rock hard adobe.”

“Aye. For nigh on fifty years.”

“It does give one cause for pause, doesn’t it?” She reached in and gingerly removed the object they’d been staring at.

“Who was the last person who had it? Your father?”

“No… It was me.” The tears that hadn’t come before began to land in hot splashes on her open palm, clinging like dewdrops to what lay there. “It fell out of my dress in the courtyard, and…”

“And Elspeth’s cat retrieved it. To bring help for her granddaughter, as he’d once brought help for her. I know. Because he was still holding it in his mouth when he came to the great hall to fetch me.” Alan took the key from her hand and returned it, tears and all, to the ashes in the chest. “Let’s give it back to him, shall we? That way, if anyone needs help in the future, he’ll have it handy.”

“Aye,” Tabitha said, smiling at him through her tears and realizing that Jeremy had almost been right. Children did inherit, it seemed. But not their parents’ sins. Elspeth’s stubborn kindness, her unshakable insistence on nursing those in need, on carrying light into the dark—and the Panther’s sacrifice in response—had stirred something that had stretched beyond the grave to bless and protect their descendants.

“But let’s not seal this back into the wall.” Carefully, she lowered the small casket’s lid and refastened its lock. “They should be in a decent grave from now on, with a proper marker, don’t you think?”

“The way I’m feeling, dear, I’d like to build them a shrine with marble pillars.”

“They might find that a bit ostentatious. A small statue might be nice, though. One of a cat, perhaps? That would work for either the Panther or Caliban, wouldn’t it?”

“Only if we put wings on it.” He smiled, pulling both of them to their feet and leading her into the inner court toward the keep. “You weren’t that far wrong, you know. You told me he was no demon, but an angel. That may be the truest thing you’ve ever said.”

“You think so, do you?” Her thoughts turned to some unfinished business as, hand in hand, they navigated the moonlit yard. “Well, I know something even truer I could tell you.”

“And what’s that, dear?”

“I’ll give you three guesses. One for each word.”

It jerked him to a halt just short of the ramp.

“Three words, hmm? But what if I don’t want to guess?” His eyes smoldered down at her, like two glowing embers. “What if I just want to hear you say those words?”

“And what if I change my mind and decide not to say them, after all?” She gazed provocatively back at him.

“In that case, I’ll probably be forced to carry you to bed and ravish you within an inch of your life.”

“We’ve an interesting predicament, then. Because I could take that as an inducement to keep my mouth closed.”

“By God, you’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“Still, just to keep things fair, what’s the alternative? What will you do if I
do
say them?”

“Definitely carry you to bed and ravish you within an inch of your life.”

“Well then, I really can’t see that I’ve much of a choice, have I?”

“None at all.” He swung her high against his chest and strode up the ramp.

“Good.” She grinned, winding her arms about his neck. “Because I
do
love you, Alan MacAllister. Long after the rest of creation is a burned out cinder, my love for you will still be here, shining out like a star.”

“’Twill be a double star, Tabitha Tilda, for I’ll be shining right beside you. But that was more than three words, you know.”

“I know. I threw in the others as a bonus. Do I get anything extra for them?”

“Aye. I’ll kiss you breathless on the way to our room,” he promised, covering her mouth with his as he shouldered open the door to the keep.

“Mmm…” she said, thinking how everything that had once seemed so queer and sinister suddenly felt so divinely sensible and right. And how mistaken her father had been when he’d told her that marriage wasn’t like math, that there were no formulas she could use to make it come out correctly.

This was the simplest equation, in fact, that she had ever solved. Just take one plus one passionately beating heart, subtract all doubts and fears, multiply by an open awareness and acceptance of soul shattering love, and your end product could be none other than a glistening adobe Heaven-on-Earth.

I wonder when Leslie’s schooner returns to San Francisco. I’d like to send Gabrina a big thank you for making me wear her tartans. She’s the sort of girl who’d appreciate a nice gift. And I just happen to know of a lovely French trousseau that ought to suit her perfectly…

“Tabitha? Your knee is hopping like a Mexican jumping bean. What is that brain of yours up to now?”

“I was just thinking what a wonderful castle this is, and how wonderfully much I adore you. And if I can still talk, I’m not breathless yet. So you’d better kiss me some more.”

“If you insist.” And he matched the action to the phrase.

While nearby, in the flickering shadows, an angel sat watching, blinking golden eyes and grinning like a cat.

==============

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About the author…

Mimi Riser is a best-selling, award-winning author of fiction and nonfiction. Her books celebrate the upbeat and the offbeat, and “happy endings” are her specialty. She began life in the urban northeast, but now resides in the rural southwest with one husband, two dogs, and more cats than anyone wants to know about.

http://www.mimiriser.com