only talking about two cats and two dogs, four animals in total.”
“Not... exactly.” She gave him what might have been an anxious glance.
He felt a prickle of apprehension. “Not...exactly?”
“I have a few more than two cats.”
He groaned. “How many’s a few more?”
“Well...four. Of my own, that is.”
She hesitated at an ivy-covered gate, and he stepped forward to open it for her and Molly. Through a thick stand of pine, he caught a glimpse of their destination—actuary, the former gatehouse to Glennhaven. And as he knew too well, his crazy great-aunt Cora had left the gatehouse to Brooke Hamilton, along with an acre of land.
An acre of land in the shape of a pan, the “handle” providing access to the main road—and effectively controlling access to the main house and the bulk of the estate. The bequest to the lovely Ms. Hamilton had left the future of the estate in doubt; the whole situation was a mess. He figured Cora must have been a raving lunatic, or else Ms. Hamilton was not the wide-eyed innocent she appeared to be.
Then Brooke’s possible meaning sank in. “Four cats of your own?”
She nodded. “Uh...I guess you don’t know about my business.”
“You run a business from the gatehouse?” This was getting worse and worse.
She turned onto a well-defined path leading through the trees, and again he fell in beside her with Molly trotting along behind. All of a sudden Brooke stopped and opened her arms for Gable—check that, for that damned cat—to leap to the ground.
“He’s getting away!” Molly’s voice turned shrill.
“Don’t worry, honey.” Confidently Brooke took the little girl’s hand. “He’ll just lead us back home. He likes running through the trees. I try to let him, when I’m there to watch out for predators.” She shot a quick, veiled glance at Garrett.
“Can I run, too?” Molly looked from one adult to the other. “Can I, can I, please?”
Brooke deferred to Garrett. “Is it okay? The house is right there, where we can see it. We’ll be right behind her.”
He didn’t like it but he liked the disappointment on Molly’s face even less. Everybody was always telling him he was overprotective and maybe he was. With an effort, he began, “If you’re sure...”
That was enough for Molly, who took off with her thin brown legs flying. Brooke smiled at the sight.
Garrett watched for a moment before returning to the subject at hand. “You were talking about your business,” he prompted.
“Oh, that.” Her smile was absolutely angelic. “I run a bed-and-breakfast for—”
“Jeez, a B ‘n’ B?” Garrett stared at her incredulously. “Does that mean I can expect to find hordes of strangers wandering around at all times of the day and night?”
“Goodness, no.” She laughed lightly but he saw her twist her hands together behind her back.
“Then, what?”
“It’s not a B ‘n’ B for people,” she said. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s called Catty-Corner.”
Before that could sink in, she whirled and ran down the path after Molly and Gable. Garrett stared after her in a state of shock.
He’d just inherited an estate dedicated to the one animal on this earth traditionally despised by his entire family.
CHAPTER TWO
BROOKE, tried to keep her reservations at bay as she showed her guests around Catty-Corner. Maybe Garrett wouldn’t be as difficult about the cats as she feared, she decided in a burst of positive thinking. Maybe he’d give in gracefully.
Maybe pigs would fly.
Following her around the premises, he gave no indication of either approval or disapproval, although he did seem a bit more subdued than he had earlier. Even suspecting he was waiting for his chance to confront her, she still couldn’t conceal her pride in what she’d accomplished.
“With Miss Cora’s help and approval, of course,” she added, opening a door and gesturing them through. “None of this would have been possible without her total understanding and support.”
They entered a large, cozy room containing ten spacious kitty condos spaced against the walls with Brooke’s work and storage area in the center. Each compartment had a private window for bird-watching—a popular pastime of the residents—and pet-door access to an enclosed and partitioned sunning porch for felines only.
Garrett stared, his expression incredulous. “You’re kidding,” he said at last.
Brooke hardly knew how to take that. “Certainly not.” She lifted her chin a notch. “What did you expect? Surely not cages!”
“That’s exactly what I expected,” he admitted.
She shuddered. “My business comes from cat lovers, not sadists.” She slipped her fingers through the wire mesh to tickle the chin of a dainty black cat named Chloe.
His eyebrows soared. “Talk about pampered. What do you do, serve them breakfast in bed?”
“Sure, if that’s what they want,” she admitted.
“Lucky cats.”
She didn’t like that gleam in his amber eyes. To change the subject, she took Molly’s hand and smiled at the little girl. “I think it’s time I found you something to eat.”
Molly hung back. “Can I pet the kitties? Can I, please?”
“Maybe later.” Brooke cast a questioning glance at Garrett, then led the way back through the door into her own quarters. Cluttered and homelike, her sitting room boasted an eclectic blend of period and modern furniture, all chosen for comfort or sentiment. “Let’s go out to the kitchen first,” she suggested to Molly, “and see what we can—”
But she’d lost her audience. With a cry of delight, Molly darted forward with hands outstretched.
She’d spotted Carole Lombard snoozing in a fluffy white mass on a big brocaded ottoman. It was love at first sight. Carole Lombard, Miss Cora’s other cat, was practically designed to enchant a little girl: a snowy-white feline beauty with brilliant blue eyes and fur as soft and luxurious as a rabbit’s.
Lombard gave a little squeak of surprise but she didn’t try to elude her young admirer. To Brooke’s astonishment, the cat allowed the child to embrace her, then sit down on the ottoman and haul the languid feline into her lap.
“What’s her name?” Molly asked breathlessly, her eyes shining like stars.
“Lombard,” Brooke said softly. Why did this little girl have a dog? If Brooke had ever seen a child take to cats, this was the one.
