could tell when someone wasn’t used to interacting with animals—their movements were hesitant and awkward. Ben might not have any animals now, but he’d been close to at least one cat in the past, a cat he’d loved. Maybe she shouldn’t put much stock in that, but…she did.
Turning away so Ben wouldn’t catch her staring, she zipped her parka in one noisy motion. By the time she finished, he’d moved away from the counter and Max, who still seemed mesmerized by the man in the sheepskin coat and cowboy hat. Now she was really curious about what had happened to Ben that kept him from wanting pets. If she kept her eyes, ears and even her heart open, she might be able to find out.
Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze. “Ready to explore The Haven?”
“Lead the way.”
“We’ll visit the cats first.” She’d thought maybe Ewok and Wookie would touch him the most, but perhaps not. If he could warm up to Max, then he’d be a sucker for the sweethearts he was about to meet.
IN THE GRAY LIGHT OF DAWN, Ben followed Tansy out the back door of the house to the lighted buildings behind it. He hoped she hadn’t noticed him petting Max, because she might read too much into it. He should have resisted the impulse.
But Tansy’s comment that Max wouldn’t let anyone pet him had been a challenge. He’d wanted to test that, especially because Max had looked at him exactly the way his childhood cat, Mickey, used to, with a silent plea for attention.
Mickey had only been able to make that plea with one eye instead of two because he’d lost the right one in a fight. Ben later learned that male cats should be neutered so they wouldn’t fight or breed. But as a kid he hadn’t known that, and his aunt and uncle certainly wouldn’t have wanted the expense of a vet bill.
So he’d allowed Mickey to roam the streets of whatever town they moved to in their vagabond life. Max looked so much like Mickey that if Ben believed in kitty reincarnation, he’d wonder if Mickey had somehow come back in the body of this cat. With his eye repaired.
Didn’t really matter if he had, though. Mickey’s life had been cut short by a car. He’d been ten—not so bad, actually, for a cat, especially an outdoor one. Ben had heard of indoor cats like Max making it past twenty, or even twenty-five, but that still wasn’t long enough to suit Ben. He wasn’t into long-lived animals like parrots or tortoises, so he was better off staying out of the game.
Scratching behind Max’s ears had felt achingly familiar, though. This gig was already testing his resolve not to form attachments. But petting one orange tabby wasn’t the same as forming an attachment, he told himself. It changed nothing.
A light snow the night before had turned to slush, but someone had shoveled the lighted walkway that led from the back of the house to a couple of octagonal buildings. A signpost pointed left to the larger one, christened the Doggie Digs, and to the right for the smaller octagon named the Kitty Condo. Beyond that stood a boxy portable building that must be where the cats from the hoarder were being kept.
The signs designating the cat and dog areas were cute but unnecessary. A chorus of barks from the larger octagon would have clued him in.
“It’s feeding time.” Tansy paused and glanced toward the Doggie Digs. “One of the high points of their day, obviously.”
“I’m partial to a good meal, myself.”
She graced him with one of her million-dollar smiles. “Me, too.”
And here he was, once again gazing at her expressive face and wishing…what? That he could figure out some stupid reason to spend more time with her? So he could become dependent on that smile for his happiness? No way.
“I should buy you lunch sometime, to thank you for doing this,” she said.
“That’s a generous offer.” Was she asking him out? If she was as interested in him as he was in her, it would be hard to keep her at arm’s length. “But I hope you don’t think I volunteered my time for this. The station’s paying me.”
“Well, sure, I thought they probably were, since they insisted on sending someone out to get better shots. But even so, you’re giving up your Saturday morning.”
“I don’t mind.” And that was the crux of his dilemma. He’d looked forward to coming out here. Professional pride had something to do with it, because he liked the idea of improving on the photos she’d provided. But he’d also just wanted to see her.
Maybe he’d hoped that she wouldn’t be as appealing today as she had been on Monday. Wrong. She fascinated him more than ever. He couldn’t figure out how she maintained her bright optimism given the realities of her job. How could she love these animals with all she had when she knew that loving them would also bring pain?
“Sorry.” She gave him an apologetic glance. “I’m wasting time gabbing about lunch instead of giving you the tour I promised. Do you have any questions so far?”
He had a million of them, all about her and how she had come to be the person she was. But that would invite questions about himself, and she would want him to reveal things he’d kept hidden for years. “No questions,” he said. Then he decided that sounded abrupt. “I take that back. What about the shape of these buildings? I’ve never seen an octagon used for an animal shelter before.”
She brightened. “Aren’t they amazing? We built the Doggie Digs first. We borrowed the octagon concept from a no-kill shelter in Utah called Best Friends Animal Society. I spent a week there and was so inspired. The design allows us to have a central area for organizing food and meds. The pie-shaped enclosures branch out from the center.”
Ben nodded. “Looks efficient.”
“It is. Once we saw how well it worked, we used the same design, slightly modified, for our Kitty Condo.” She walked toward the door leading into the cat building. A sign warned Caution, Loose Cats. She opened it a crack and warm air spilled out. “All clear?”
“All clear,” called a female voice from the other side of the door. “I’m cuddling Brutus, and he’s the only one out here right now.”
Tansy opened the door wider and stepped inside. “Good. I’ve brought the cameraman from KFOR.”
Ben followed her through the door and closed it again. The octagonal room was about the size of an average kitchen and resembled one, too, with its countertops, cabinets, refrigerator, washer and dryer. There was no stove, but he noticed a microwave and a toaster oven. Both the washer and dryer were running.
“Ben Rhodes, meet Cindy Stanton, one of our valuable weekend volunteers. Cindy’s a senior in high school, so her weekdays are full, but she comes over every Saturday and Sunday morning to help feed the cats and scoop the litter boxes, even when it’s cold and dark outside.”
“I want to be here, no matter what the weather is.” Cindy, a lanky teenager with a blond ponytail, was wearing a practical outfit of jeans and a long-sleeved rock band T-shirt. She sat on the floor cradling a small black cat with white tuxedo markings. She glanced up at Ben with interest. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rhodes. Is it okay if I don’t move? Brutus finally settled down, and I—”
“Please don’t get up.” Ben crouched down, reached over and gently stroked a finger down Brutus’s soft fur. “He’s young.”
“He’s young
