Firefly Mountain (26 page)

“Saturday night?” Patrick asked. “Why did they wait so long to call?”

“They thought someone was down here. The land’s been for sale. Figured someone finally bought it and had them some cats.” Willy pulled several cardboard boxes out of the truck.

“It’s when the meows turned to yowls and a couple of screeches they figured they were wrong.” Chuck grabbed an ax and handed Patrick an industrial flashlight. “Probably no electricity in that shack.”

Patrick led the way. When he got to the door, Midas a few steps in front of him, he smelled the unmistakable scent of cat urine. Midas lowered to the ground, put a paw over his muzzle, and let out a low growl.

“
Restez
, Midas.” Patrick eased the broken door out of the way and flicked on the flashlight. Cat eyes reflected back at him from every corner of the cabin, and whiny mews echoed in the emptiness.

“Jesus,” Chuck said. “There’s got to be like thirty cats in here.”

“God, I hate cats.” Willy coughed on the stench.

“I think we need our masks and air tanks.” Patrick stepped back for a moment and took in a breath from outside. “Man, that’s awful.” His eyes had begun to tear. He shined the flashlight around the interior of the shack. “It doesn’t look as if any of them are hurt.”

“Probably thirsty and hungry,” Chuck said. He radioed back to the station. “Fissle, Olson, Barre on scene. About thirty cats found. Need more boxes.”

The station buzzed back a response that someone from the animal shelter was on his way.

“Let’s start boxing them up. They all have to come out.” Willy stepped past Chuck and Patrick with one of the boxes from the truck.

They spent the next ten minutes rounding up cats and settling them in the boxes they had. The animal shelter staff member had arrived and started loading the boxes into his truck for transport to the shelter’s vet. When no more cat eyes reflected, the fighters exited the log cabin.

Patrick was the last to leave, and as he wedged the door back into the threshold, hoping to eliminate the opening at the bottom, a faint noise stopped him.

“C’mon, Barre,” Chuck said. “This took longer than it should have. I want to go home.”

Patrick ignored Chuck and tilted his head toward the cabin. Midas sidled up next to Patrick and rose to his hind legs. The dog pawed at the rounded logs, and Patrick had to back him off so he could hear.

“There’s something still in there,” Patrick said. He moved the door out of the way again.

“We don’t have any more boxes,” Willy said, “and the shelter truck just left.”

Patrick stepped back into the cabin. He switched on the flashlight again and swept the beam around the single room. No cat eyes, but something scratched around toward the back of the room. Midas scurried in and made a beeline to the stone fireplace in the center of the rear wall. Patrick followed and kneeled down in front of the soot-covered hearth. The scratching was louder, but no meowing.

It sounded as if…it couldn’t be. Patrick leaned over the ashes and shined the light up into the chimney. A tiny, furry face with enormous eyes peered back at him. A kitten huddled in a hollowed out section of the chimney.

“What the hell?” Patrick swiveled his body around so he lay on his back inside the hearth. Propping the flashlight beside him, he reached his arms up into the chimney. “Hey there, little one.”

He slid his hands up the sides of the stone and when he offered his gloved palms, the kitten inched her way off the rock ledge without a sound. Patrick lowered his hands and cradled the small body to his chest as he slid out of the hearth.

“Son of a bitch,” Willy said. “Why ain’t she making a racket like the others?”

Patrick let the kitten spill out of his hands and into his lap. She was so tiny her entire body fit on his kneecap in a tight ball. “Maybe she can’t make a racket.”

“What, like she lost her voice or something?” Chuck asked.

“She’s probably dehydrated like the others. Maybe it affected her throat or something. She’s so little,” Patrick said.

Despite his earlier vow to keep his gloves on, he pulled one off and stroked the matted fur on the kitten’s back. She was all black with big yellow eyes and a long, skinny tail. Patrick could feel her ribs under his fingers. She wiggled a bit and when he offered a thumb to sniff, she licked it.

“Well, she likes you,” Willy said.

Midas nosed around Patrick’s boots until his muzzle rose to inspect the kitten. Just as his meeting with Gini’s cat had been friendly, this too was cordial. Two black noses met, two quick intakes of scent, one cat nestled on his knee, one dog sitting at his feet. Acceptance. Pure and simple. Patrick wished it were that easy for humans.

“We can drop her off at the shelter on our way back to the station,” Chuck said. “C’mon.” He and Willy left to go back to the truck.

Patrick, Midas, and the kitten took another moment for themselves. “What do you think, Midas?”

The dog woofed softly and licked the kitten’s ear.

“Yeah, I like her too.”

Patrick hadn’t considered himself a cat person, but this kitty—like a certain woman he knew—had worked a little spell on him that had him thinking differently.

The drive to Rhode Island always relaxed Gini. As a student, she often came home on weekends to be with her family and considered the drive an opportunity to truly enjoy the picturesque New England landscape. A photographer’s dream. Today was no different, and the drive did wonders to dull the pain of her father’s words two nights ago. She’d avoided her parents’ calls and just took off. Jonah would explain her disappearance. They would worry, but there wouldn’t be anything they could do. She’d be about five hours away and on her own.

That was the other advantage to going to Rhode Island. She never had a full day to herself in Vermont. Her parents or Jonah were always checking in, inviting her over, watching her. She appreciated their concern, but it got a little suffocating sometimes. She had no room to breathe. It made her feel like a child who needed constant baby-sitting.

Gini turned up the car stereo and let the Rhode Island borders swallow her. The traffic was dense, but the fading sun cast everything in a pinkish glow, making the car windshields flicker like Christmas lights. Gini wished she could dig out her camera and capture the light on film, but once again had to settle for a mental picture. She crept ahead a few feet and waited to get on the Newport Bridge. Willow had invited Gini to stay at her fiancé’s parent’s beach house…or mansion…or whatever it was. Willow, her sister, and her mother were bunking in a cottage on the grounds. Sounded like a taste of the high life—something Gini wasn’t used to but planned on enjoying for the weekend.

Night had fallen by the time Gini pulled into the semi-circular driveway in front of an enormous stone house. Medieval almost in décor, the mansion boasted two actual turret towers and a steeple roof above the tall front doors. A four-car garage branched off to the left, and smaller stone buildings dotted what Gini could see of the backyard from the driveway. Trees with large orange berries she couldn’t identify lined the driveway while smaller flowering plants hugged the ground below the trees. Evergreens had been cut into clean spirals at either side of the front doors, and in the distance, the ocean kissed the rocky shore.

Gini grabbed her purse and leaned against her SUV, inhaling the sea-salted darkness. Burnam offered no glimpse of the Atlantic Ocean. The closest water was Gini’s tiny pond, big enough to wade in with the horses and take a dip, but no good for much else. She’d definitely have to squeeze in a few hours of lazing on the sand and splashing around in the sea.

She hauled her small suitcase out of the trunk and hollered when arms whirled her around.

“Jesus, Willow.” Gini’s heart pounded in her chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry.” Willow pulled Gini into an embrace. “I’m so glad you’re here. This is going to be so great!”

“Cheer up, Willow.” Gini smirked as Willow giggled.

“I know. I’m way over the top, but I don’t care.” She twirled away from Gini, her long, red hair fluttering out behind her. “I’m in love. I’m getting married. It’s good to be alive.” She waltzed back and took Gini’s suitcase. Setting it down, Willow caught Gini in a dance hold, and the two of them swing danced down the driveway.

“Oh, somebody’s rusty. You’re letting those lessons we took go to waste, girlie,” Willow said. “Haven’t been practicing?” She leaned away to study Gini’s face.

“No one to practice with.” Gini let her hands drop from Willow’s grasp and pushed her purse back up onto her shoulder.

Willow angled her head and puckered out her lips. “No, that’s not it.”

“What do you mean? I can’t swing dance with myself.” Gini picked up her suitcase.

“No, I mean it’s not that you don’t have a partner.” Willow narrowed her golden brown eyes. “You’ve got one in mind.”

“Cut that out,” Gini said. “You know I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Willow took Gini’s suitcase and led her onto a small path off the driveway.

“Read me like a book. It’s creepy.”

“Can’t help it. You’ve met someone.”

Gini shrugged behind Willow. True, she had met someone. False, she was going doing anything about it. Patrick was not her dance partner.

“Your silence speaks volumes.” Willow walked up the steps of a house too big to be considered a cottage in Gini’s mind.

“This weekend is about you,” Gini said. “Let’s keep it that way, okay?”

As Willow opened the door, she turned to look at Gini. “If that’s what you want.”

“I do.” Gini stepped past Willow into the cottage.

“Fine, but,” Willow grabbed Gini’s arm to stop her, “if you want to talk, you know I’ll listen.”

Gini gave Willow a quick hug and that contact did more to settle her than any of her meditative tricks. She hadn’t had one incident while in college with Willow, and Gini now realized it had so much to do with the kind of friend Willow had been. The kind of friend she was still today.

“Thanks, Willow.”

Willow nodded. “A fast hello to Mom and Lily, then I’ll show you to your room.”

“Sure.”

“Then, if you’re not too tired, some dinner?” Willow’s hopeful eyes made Gini laugh.

“I’m hungry.”

Willow did a little jig in the hallway and escorted Gini into a living room furnished with a white couch, two pale blue Queen Anne chairs, and an assortment of sailboat paintings on the walls. Posh, yet simple. Homey, yet nautical.

“Nice,” Gini said.

“I’m deathly afraid I’m going to get that couch dirty though. Look at how white it is.” Willow thrust her arm out to the couch, and Gini had to agree the thought of actually sitting on it made her sweat. Sweat would probably stain that couch.

“That you, Willow?”

“Yes, and I’ve brought in a stray Vermonter.” Willow put Gini’s suitcase down and dragged her into the yellowest kitchen Gini had ever seen. Although it was dark outside, it seemed as if the sun were shining in the room. Seashell decorations were tastefully tucked into every nook and cranny, and Willow’s mother sipped tea at a small wicker bistro set by a bay window. Her sister, Lily, munched on a cookie at the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Gini!” Willow’s mother got up from her seat. “So glad you could come on such short notice. My daughter’s engagement has been such a whirlwind.” She gave Gini a hug and a kiss to each cheek then stepped back. Her eyes traveled from Gini’s head to her toes. “My, don’t you look wonderful.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Greene. You look fabulous as well.”

“It’s the tea. Secret formula.” She winked at Gini and sat back at the table.

“Hey, Lily,” Gini said. “What have you been up to?”

Lily gave a shrug that sent her dyed jet-black hair sliding over her shoulders. “Nothing. Just trapped here while my actual life is on hold.”

“Lily,” Mrs. Greene said. “Enough already.”

“My sister thinks I’m succumbing to societal norms by entering into a binding marital contract.” Willow rolled her eyes, and Gini had to stifle a laugh. Good thing she hadn’t gotten stuck with Lily as a roommate at RISD.

“It’s so predictable, Willow. I feel bad for the two point five kids you’re going to shoot out of your vagina.”

“Especially the point five,” Gini said.

Willow and Mrs. Greene burst into laughter with Gini, but Lily scowled from the island.

“Lily’s going to make a splendid maid of honor, don’t you think?” Willow asked.

Gini opened her mouth to respond but then closed it. “I’m not touching that one.”

“Wise girl,” Mrs. Greene said.

“I’m going to set Gini up in her room then we’re off to dinner. You sure you don’t want to come, Mom?” Willow asked.

“No, I’m all set. You girls have fun catching up.”

“Yes,” Lily said as she spun the silver stud in her bottom lip, “have fun hob-knobbing with the epitome of economical conceit here in Newport.”

“We will.” Willow pinched her sister’s cheek and earned herself a slap on the hand. She laughed and bent to kiss her mother’s cheek. She motioned to Gini to follow her up a set of stairs off the kitchen.

At the top, Gini stopped in front of a porthole type window. She wished she could see outside, but the darkness was absolute. Not a light out there anywhere. Gini knew the water had to be hiding under that curtain of black. She couldn’t wait to explore it, swim through it, wash away her troubles in it. She would let the past few days in Vermont go out with the tide and, hopefully, welcome in something fresh on the waves.

****

“You’re going to keep it?” Raina’s nose crinkled. “I thought you didn’t like them.”

“I like this one.”

“What about Midas?”

“Midas likes this one too.”

“He doesn’t like any of them.”

“Not true. He likes this one and recently met another one he could tolerate.”

“Where?”

“At Gini’s.”

“Oh, I see.” Raina’s smile was smug. “You’re trying to get on Gini’s good side by adopting this glorified rat.” She shook her head when Patrick tried to hand her the kitten he’d rescued from the cabin.