Chapter 6
“Decisions, decisions,” Mike sighed Monday evening as he looked at what had been the guest room of his parents’ house. They had moved to Florida just after he returned from his mission. While he knew it had been their plan long before it actually happened, he still missed being close to them. But he was glad they couldn’t see the disrepair their home had fallen into during the three years he’d been in Portland, finishing school and waiting for a position in Romance to open up. While those who rented the house hadn’t caused any outright damage, signs of neglect and minor repairs popped up in nearly every room of the house. This room wasn’t looking too bad, all things considered. The paint was peeling and nails stuck out at odd angles throughout the room. But the wood floor didn’t show any water damage, though it did need a wax job. The light fixture still functioned properly. All in all, Mike knew he should be grateful. Many who rented their homes dealt with far worse problems on their return. He looked again at the paint chips he’d picked up at Romance Hardware.
A mouse squeaked and ran across the room, breaking Mike’s thoughts. He growled. “Ugh, Pooka, come here!”
The cat strolled into the room, glanced at the disappearing mouse, and then looked at Mike as though to say, “And?”
“Pooka, you’ve got one job and you’re failing it.”
Mrow. The tabby began washing her paws.
“Great mouser my foot,” Mike muttered. “I swear I’ve seen more mice here since I got you.” Erin Walker, the volunteer who’d helped him adopt the cat, must not have been around Pooka enough to know about her mousing skills, or lack thereof. It didn’t help that after seeing Mrs. Rosenthal still at the festival, Mike rushed through the adoption process just to get home. “I guess I’ll stop by Finding Forever sometime and get another cat.” He turned his attention back to the paint chips in his hand. No matter how hard he tried to focus, his thoughts kept wandering to Katie. He couldn’t blame her for being reluctant to accept his help Saturday. They hadn’t seen each other in over five years. Despite his attempts to apologize for the way he’d announced his mission, she’d never responded to the letters he sent. Katie seemed determined to keep her vow never to see him again, until he’d seen her at the festival. Granted, she might not have so much as glanced his way if she hadn’t desperately needed a truck and trailer to get her new horse home. A smile lifted the right corner of his mouth as he recalled a furious Uncle Earl stomping over to the truck. If nothing else, Katie sure knew how to stir up trouble. He wondered if she would still be at her aunt and uncle’s shop in Romance. Though he didn’t like going back to town after school if he could help it, Katie’s sense of color and style couldn’t be beat. Maybe she could help him out with his decision. At the same time, he could gauge if he actually stood a chance at winning her back. Mike stuffed the chips in his back pocket. If nothing else the drive would clear his head a bit. He turned to the cat lounging in a sunny spot in the room. “Do me a favor, Pooka, and catch a mouse while I’m gone. Okay? Just one mouse.”
Pooka chose not to respond. Instead she rolled over with her back to the man who expected her to actually work.
Mike walked outside and took a deep breath. The cool breeze ruffled his hair, reminding him that he was past due for a haircut. After starting the engine, Mike put down the windows of his truck. He turned the volume up and drummed the steering wheel. The classic rock reminded him of drives with Katie. He smiled, wondering if she still played air guitar with her favorite songs. As he entered town, he saw Finding Forever Animal Rescue on his right. Mike turned into the parking lot. Since he was in town anyway, he might as well get a cat who would actually catch mice instead of watching them run past. He walked inside the old farm house. “Hola, Señor Elders,” a young girl said as he entered.
“Hola, Stacie. ¿Cómo estás?”
“Bien. Um. ¿Cómo se dice, ‘How can I help you?’” she asked.
Mike laughed. “¿Cómo puedo ayudarle? Your accent is getting better.”
She flashed him a smile. “Thanks. So, what can I help you with?”
“I need a cat who catches mice. The one I got at the festival has no interest in them.”
“Really?” Stacie giggled and waved for him to follow her into a different room. “You must have gotten Pooka. She’s a lazy gato.”
“Gata. Remember?”
“Gata, girl cat. That’s right. Didn’t you tell the volunteer you needed a mouser?”
“I did and was assured Pooka would do a great job.”
Stacie burst into laughter. “Lo siento, Señor Elders, someone tricked you bad! But I think I can help you find someone better suited to your needs.” She frowned. “You’re not going to bring Pooka back, are you?”
“Nah, she might be lazy, but she’s cute and I don’t mind her. Maybe having another cat will help her figure out this mousing thing.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Stacie snorted. She stopped in front of a kennel and pulled out a sleek, gray cat. “This is Puppy.”
Mike blinked. “Puppy?”
She giggled. “Yeah. I was here when the original owners dropped him off. Their youngest had bad allergies and they couldn’t keep him anymore. Anyway, they got him as a kitten when their older son was a toddler. They asked what to name him, and his favorite animal was dogs, so Puppy. They tried desperately to change his mind, but the name stuck. Brent and some of the other volunteers tried for weeks to get him to accept a new name. Unfortunately, Puppy is like an old dog. Can’t learn new tricks, or new names apparently.”
“Does he catch mice?”
“Oh yeah, he’s great at it. Brent lets him run around the barn sometimes when there are mice in there. He always leaves the place empty.”
“Well then, Puppy can come home with me today,” Mike said, taking the cat from Stacie.
Stacie clapped her hands. “¡Bueno! Sally can help you up front with the paperwork and stuff. I’ve got to start walking the dogs now.”
“All right. Gracias, Stacie.”
“De nada. Adiós, Señor Elders.”
“Adiós.” Mike wandered back to the front of the building where a receptionist was sitting at a long desk. A badge introduced her as Sally. “Hi, is this where I fill out the paperwork for, um, Puppy?”
Sally laughed. “Isn’t it funny what kids name their pets?”
“Sure is, especially when you find yourself with the pet and feeling ridiculous.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Elders, I’m sure the name will feel less ridiculous after a while.” Sally handed him a clipboard. “Just fill those out and then we’ll take care of your adoption fee.”
~*~
Puppy settled himself on the passenger seat while Mike drove downtown where Sweet Retreat was nestled between other businesses. When he arrived he debated leaving Puppy in the truck, but decided against it. While it certainly wasn’t a hot day, the last thing he needed was some misguided citizen breaking into his truck in order to rescue the animal. “Best behavior, okay, buddy?” Mike said as he picked the cat up.
Mrow.
Mike looked at the banner in the window. It looked fairly new and showed Katie’s flair for business design. A bell tinkled overhead as he walked in.
“Welcome to,” Katie paused as her eyes met his. She pasted a professional smile on her face and continued, “Sweet Retreat. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
“No rush,” Mike said as Katie turned back to the customer she was helping. The glass pumpkins from the festival winked in the light, set on shelves and between candles around the room. He walked around, keeping a firm hold on Puppy while looking at the various items. He remembered Earl and Viv selling homemade candles, but not bath products. Fragrant bath bombs rested in baskets next to bottles of lotion, fizzing bath wash, and massage oils. A large refrigerated display showed off their signature chocolate-dipped strawberries. He picked up a nearby candle named Falling Leaves. Earthy tones mixed with cinnamon and something woodsy filled his nostrils.
“I thought you didn’t like candles,” Katie said, appearing next to him.
Mike nearly dropped it. “Not exactly. I don’t like froofy, flowery candles. This one almost smells manly.”
Katie laughed. “Falling Leaves is one of our more popular candles, though I’m not sure it’s for quite that reason. Anyway, what are you doing here? And who’s this?”
“Oh, this is, erm, well.” Mike grimaced. “Puppy.”
“It’s a cat.”
“I know it’s a cat. I certainly didn’t name him Puppy.”
“Uh-huh.” Katie smirked with all her old sass and Mike fought down the desire to kiss her then and there. As she took the cat from his arms, she said, “It’s okay to get confused sometimes. Though I’m not sure how you could with this sweet boy.”
“I’m telling you I didn’t name that cat. He came to me prenamed.”
“Sure he did.” Katie turned away from him, stroking the purring cat in her arms. “I’m not sure I believe him, do you precious? Normally I don’t let animals in the shop, but for you I’ll make an exception.” She set the cat down. “Don’t get into trouble.” Turning back to Mike she said, “Now, what are you really doing here? I doubt you came all the way to the shop just so I could tease you mercilessly about your terrible naming choices.”
“I did not name the cat!”
Katie laughed. “I know, but pulling your rope is too hard to resist.”
“You ought to be careful pulling people’s ropes,” Mike said, stepping closer. “It could get you all tied up.”
“Ha! You’d have to be fast enough,” she replied, putting her hands on her hips.
“That sounds like a challenge.” He took another step, putting Katie a mere breath away.
She smirked. “Maybe it is.”
Mike reached out and pulled her close before she could escape. “You’re not nearly as fast as you think you are, Katie,” he said, tickling her sides.
Katie giggled and squirmed, trying to pull away. “Okay, okay! You didn’t name the cat.”
He stopped and held her there. Her amber eyes glowed with mirth and freckles stood out on her flushed cheeks. Auburn tendrils escaped her ponytail, framing her face. Mike bent his head closer to hers. “Katie…”
The sound of a basket crashing broke the moment. “Puppy,” Mike growled.
Puppy sat innocently next to the fallen merchandise. Mike helped Katie clean it up and then scooped the cat back in his arms. “Sorry, I guess we should go.”
“You’re still not going to tell me why you came?”
“Oh, yeah, I was going to ask your opinion.” He dug the paint chips out of his pocket. “I’m fixing up my folks’ old home and want to turn the guest bedroom into an office. Which color would you choose?”
Katie looked at the samples. “I’d have to see the room.”
“It’s the old guest room. You’ve been to my parents’ house before.”
“Yes, and I’d still have to see the room. It depends on what kind of lighting you have, which direction the room faces, what curtains…”
Mike shook his head and chuckled. “So, what should we do?”
“I’ll stop by after work and check it out. I’ll even bring you some strawberries.”
“Sounds like a deal. See you later.”