if she stayed still, lay down and left out one of the demolished pies, it might come out. Either way, hounding it didn’t work. She’d only terrify it more and risk waking Scooter. A yawn escaped her. First she’d clean up the mess, late as it was. She sighed. Would her ant crusade ever end?
She kept an eye on the black snout poking from behind her laden towel rack while she wiped the table, mopped her floor and rinsed out the pans. At least five pies had escaped the little marauder, including her diner’s specialty—raisin. She shot a glare in the cub’s direction, then softened at the sight of its nose, now resting on the floor, flanked by two paws. How had one minuscule creature created such havoc?
At least she had enough pie for the morning and lunch rushes. The rest she’d make at the diner while Maggie ran the front counter alongside the waitresses. Inconvenient, but doable. Once she got her little fur ball squared away, life would return to normal—relatively speaking. For a restaurant owner, that meant controlled chaos. She draped a wet dishrag over her faucet, closed her window and pulled off her rooster-patterned apron.
After untying a couple of seat covers, she made them into a makeshift pillow and stretched against the wall. She thought of Jinx outside on her cat prowl. Hopefully she knew enough to steer clear of a mother bear circling the property.
Vivie listened to the scratch of claws against the floor. A round eye, shiny as a brown button, peeked around a towel on the bottom rack. Holding still, she watched it roam around the room then alight on her. Her breath hitched. Friend or foe? She willed it to know she was the former.
“Come on, little one. Come out,” she crooned. A frustrated breath escaped her when the cub ducked back behind the rack, grunting low. It’d be a long night...for both of them. Protectiveness seized her.
If only she could comfort it, but that would stress it more. No. Instead, she’d stay up. Wait for the half-finished pie she’d left out to tempt the cub from its hiding spot. If it emerged, she’d corral it into the pantry and get some real sleep.
Her eyes drifted closed, her lids heavy. She wouldn’t fall asleep. Not a chance...
* * *
TWITTERING BIRDS ANNOUNCED the dawn. The scrape of tin proclaimed the bear had emerged for breakfast—aka her pie. Vivie leaped to her feet and, through the kitchen archway, saw Scooter lurch awake. Her dog scampered after the squealing cub, which fortunately raced for the pantry. She slammed the door shut just as Scooter bashed into its frame, unable to stop his momentum or his relentless barking.
“No, Scoots. Down.”
Vivie yanked on his collar, then jammed her way inside the pantry.
“I’m so sorry!”
She met the bear’s wide eyes and her heart squeezed as it scuttled backward. Its pink tongue appeared when it cried out, its head weaving, searching out another hiding spot. Luckily, most of her food was in industrial metal bins or cans. It wouldn’t get into too much trouble here.
For the first time, she had a good look at it and noticed something wrong with its jaw. The lower half seemed off-kilter, swelling making it bulge sideways. Was it injured? She had to get help for this button-eyed cutie.
“I’ll be right back. Umph!”
She banged into a hovering, woofing Scooter when she shimmied back through the pantry door. “Hush, boy. Outside.”
At her point and shove, his tail lowered and he headed through the porch door she opened. In a flash of ebony fur, Jinx flew through the entrance. She jumped onto the table and meowed loudly, her good yellow eye narrow and accusing. The other, blinded before she’d shown up on Vivie’s door, was milky white and half-closed.
“Off, Jinx. You know the rules!” Vivie’s shooing had no effect. She picked up her bristling kitty and set her beside her food bowl.
Jinx whipped away and presented her long tail. She sniffed at the empty trays disdainfully.
“So it’s like that, then,” Vivie sighed, pouring cat food and replenishing the water. At her ear scratch, Jinx jerked her head away.
“Jinx, I’m sorry you were stuck outside.” She grabbed a couple of cat treats and set them on the floor. “I couldn’t let you in because of—”
A scratch sounded on the pantry door and Jinx’s back arched, her tail puffing.
“Don’t even think about going near there,” Vivie warned. At Scooter’s bark, she let him in, then went for the phone. Despite the early hour, someone had to be on emergency call.
Vivie flopped on her vintage sofa and heard a squeak. Reaching behind a fringed pillow, she pulled out a hamburger chew toy, a smile beating the frown to her face. Scooter. Would her pets ever learn to stay off her furniture?
She grabbed the phone, dialed 911 and was assured of a conservation officer visit. She hung up and dropped her head on top of her sofa. Great. The Department of Environmental Conservation...a department she’d clashed with once before. They’d probably chuck the cub into the woods, whether coyotes skulked or not. Let nature take its course.
The heck with nature. This was about surviving.
She moved restlessly around her living room, debating if she and the cub should leave before the officer arrived. But where would she go? What would she do? No. She’d stand her ground as she’d taught herself to do.
Her eyes roamed the ceiling, noting that her fan needed dusting. And was that a cobweb in the far corner? Her gaze landed on the Steinway piano she’d inherited along with her great-aunt Nancy’s farmhouse. After a nomadic childhood with a marriage escape-artist mother, it was her first permanent home. The only place Vivie had stayed, growing up, where she’d felt safe.
Above the piano hung last year’s holiday picture: Santa with Scooter and Jinx. Scooter’s long tongue lapped the struggling man’s ear while Jinx batted his hat’s pom-pom. Classic. A true Harris family moment. If not for her aunt’s generosity, Vivie would still be in the Bronx, fighting through the anxiety that’d plagued her since her attack. Here in the Adirondacks, however, she’d found peace. Could breathe.
Vivie turned when a loud woof carried from the kitchen. Scooter. She padded across the faded Oriental carpet, through the entranceway and back into the kitchen. Across the room, Jinx leaped from the table and threw herself against the pantry door. Meanwhile Scooter dug deep grooves into the wood, barking and whining.
“Hey! Knock it off, you two!”
Jinx crashed down, then slunk under the table, her tail lashing. Scooter continued, unhearing, until Vivie tugged his collar. She tempted him away with a bone and eventually he subsided and splayed on the floor, chewing.
Her shoulders sagged. She’d been up for what, thirty minutes? And it was already a long morning.
In the quiet, a small bleat sounded. High and paper-thin. Her chest constricted. Did she dare open the door and risk Jinx snaking between her legs and scaring the cub to death? Or Scooter muscling through? She loved her pets but they were as protective of their home as she was. If she put them outside again, a chance she’d had to take earlier given Scooter’s unreliable bladder, would they cross paths with the mother bear? Possibly. She pushed back her hair and sighed. Nothing to do but wait for the officer.
The
