he were a hungry, scared animal, what would bring him to his rescuer? Food. He needed a big handful of something cats found irresistible.
It was quicker and easier to backtrack to DD’s than to fire up his bike, ride home and raid his refrigerator.
Lillie had locked the front door when she’d let him out of the café so he circled around back. That door, too, was locked, but at least there was a porch light to see by.
Unwilling to give up so easily, James took off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, then cautiously lifted the top of the battered green Dumpster that sat against the brick wall. The fumes that instantly filled his nostrils were so strong, so disgusting, he dropped the lid with a bang.
Gasping, he turned away, grabbed a deep breath, held it and tried again. Judging by the smell, there were fish scraps in this garbage bin old enough to vote!
He was gingerly lifting aside a crumpled cardboard box when someone directly behind him said, “I don’t believe it,” and startled him so much he lost his hold on the lid once again. It thwacked him on the forearm before he could jump clear.
He whirled, uttering a heartfelt “Ow!” There stood Lillie Delaney, arms folded across her chest, giving him a look that intimated she’d caught him in the middle of a robbery. Then the corners of her mouth started to twitch and lift.
“Hello, again,” she said, half laughing. “If you were that hungry, why didn’t you ask for a second piece of pie?”
“I’m not doing this for myself,” James explained. “It’s for the cat.”
She scanned the compacted gravel at his feet, then bent to peer behind the Dumpster. “What cat?”
“The one in the tree by the church.” He couldn’t help grinning back at her in spite of the pain in his forearm. “It’s a long story.” He started to rub his smarting arm, then realized how dirty he’d gotten and stopped. “Could you spare a paper towel? I’d like to clean up.”
She stepped out of the doorway and held the screen for him. “Go on in and use the restroom. I’ll wait for you.”
“Thanks.”
He made short work of scrubbing himself clean, rejoined her, and watched her secure the back door with a key as he put his jacket back on.
“I was looking for some tasty tidbit to use to lure a kitten out of a tree,” he explained. “I was going to ask you for some scraps but the door was locked and I figured…”
“You figured a little Dumpster diving was called for. I see. And what were you going to do if your cat wouldn’t come down for a treat?”
“Hey, it’s not my cat.”
“Finders keepers,” Lillie taunted.
James fell into step beside her as she started down the sidewalk. “I didn’t exactly find it,” he argued. “It found me. It’s not my fault God gave Adam dominion over all the animals.”
“You think that command rubbed off on you?”
“Sure, why not? I just don’t know much about cats.”
Lillie laughed. “Well, you won’t often see their skeletons in trees. Come on. Show me this kitty you can’t handle. Gram has owned more cats than I can count over the years. I’ve always had a way with them.”
Lillie understood the problem before she even saw the kitten. It had instinctively clambered up the tree and was now too frightened to descend. Yes, it would probably eventually get hungry enough to come down on its own but temperatures were still dropping into the forties or lower every night and she hated to let it suffer needlessly.
Therefore, either she or the preacher was going to have to leave the ground in order to stage a rescue. She sincerely hoped it was going to be him.
They stood together beneath the tree and studied the situation. To Lillie’s dismay the trunk was barely six inches in diameter. Worse, it was a Bradford pear, an ornamental tree noted for its brittle nature.
She made a face. “Rats.”
“No, I think it’s a cat,” James quipped.
She gave him a cynical look. “We’ll need a ladder.”
“Why? If you can’t get him to come down I could just give you a little boost and…No?”
“No. Neither of us should climb that tree. Those branches won’t support us.” She saw him glance at her figure, then quickly look away without comment. If he thought she was too hefty, he was good at hiding his opinion.
“I mean,” Lillie said, “this kind of tree is pretty, especially when it blooms in the spring, like now, but it’s also notorious for breakage. I wouldn’t dream of trusting it to hold either of us.”
“Oh.”
“So, do you have a ladder?”
“I think there’s one in the church basement. Wait here. I’ll go see.”
“Bring a flashlight, too,” she called after him.
“Right.”
Watching him jog away toward the old rock church, she was taken by how well he moved—for an older guy. He must be, what, forty? Maybe forty-five, she concluded, which made him about ten years older than she was. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t James Warner’s mature good looks or even his calling that had impressed her. It was his caring heart. Most of the men she knew would have walked right on by the poor kitten and never even considered rescuing it.
Making good use of her time while she waited for the ladder, Lillie began to speak to the animal softly, coaxingly, calmly. The kitten’s squeaky pleas mellowed. Soon it was answering her voice with a mew that seemed to imply trust and affinity.
Lillie stood close to the tree trunk. It was girdled by several rings of even holes, evidence that a woodpecker had been visiting to clear it of accessible insects.
She extended her arm slowly, deliberately, and rested her hand in the joint of the lowest limb as she continued a high-pitched murmur. “Good kitty. That’s a sweet baby.”
Whiskers tickled her fingertips. One quick grab that missed and she’d undo the trust she’d established. Forcing herself to be patient, she waited till she felt the kitten rub against her hand, then gently curled her fingers around its tiny body and lifted it down.
“What a good baby,” she cooed, holding and cuddling it. “Your uncle James is going to be so proud of you.”
Speaking of which…She squinted toward the church. Some of the lights in the rear were on so she knew he was inside. Surely he should have located the ladder and hauled it out by now. What could be keeping him?
James stood amid the carnage and stared. Whoever had ransacked the church basement and smashed the nativity figures had done so deliberately. There was no way the damage had been accidental. It was too widespread.
A
