a gap in the bushes. In his arms was a large, long-haired black-and-white tuxedo cat.
“Mr. Spock,” she exclaimed.
“Then he is yours.”
“I adopted him not long ago.”
“I found him in the kitchen. I’m not sure how he got into the house.”
Mandy winced. “Sorry. He’s turned out to be a terrible scrounge. I don’t mind people feeding him, but I don’t want him to be a bother.”
“He’s charming at it, but persistent.”
She laughed. “He could give lessons to a bulldozer. A couple of weeks ago, he dashed into my house, skinny, dirty and hungry, and basically told me he was home and wasn’t leaving.”
Daniel chuckled in return, a low, gravelly sound that somehow matched the motorboat purr Mr. Spock was emitting. The sound sent a flutter through Mandy’s midriff.
“I sure hope Mr. Spock enjoys traveling in a car,” she said, trying to ignore the sensation. “I move around quite a bit.”
His eyebrows shot upward. “New employment opportunities?”
“Nah, I just take off and trust things will work out. And they do. I was going to look for something in Vicksville when I got the job here in Willow’s Eve.”
“Where do you plan to end up permanently?”
“Nowhere. I like wandering. You see terrific things that way. I never saw the Pacific Ocean until a few months ago.”
“You don’t have any goals?” Daniel stared and Mandy could tell he didn’t understand. Most people didn’t. Even the ones who loved to travel still seemed to want a permanent home base, but this way she wasn’t tied down.
Sure, it would be wonderful to find someplace that fit her well, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever find it. A place might fit for a while, but it never seemed to last.
“ISN’T EXPLORING THE United States a goal?” Mandy asked. “One of these days I hope to spend a summer in Alaska. It would be dope to have a garden where a single cabbage can get to hundreds of pounds.”
“Hundreds of pounds?” Daniel repeated, unsure what anyone would do with a cabbage that size.
She shrugged. “Maybe not that big, but with the growing day being nearly twenty-four hours long, they get huge. So that’s my goal,” she said, sticking her chin out. “Along with having lots of new experiences.”
“Oh. Okay.” He didn’t know what to think, except that spending a summer in Alaska growing giant cabbages didn’t fit the kind of goal he’d been talking about.
His whole life had been about planning and setting goals. As a boy, he’d planned each day, with the objective of being involved in anything that kept him out of the house as long as possible—sports, school clubs, field trips, studying at the library, night classes.
Hell, he’d graduated from high school a year early to get away from his embattled parents.
After college, his goal had been to get to the top of city administration as quickly as possible. He liked being in charge. And he preferred being around logical, grounded people—calm people, who weren’t too reliant on emotion when making their decisions. Of course, it turned out his ex-wife had largely operated out of motivated self-interest, but she had been calm and sweet most of the time.
Mandy appeared to do things purely out of emotion, and it made him uncomfortable.
He glanced around her patio. It was cozy, with cushioned outdoor furniture and pots of flowers scattered about. And while the house wasn’t as grandly built as the Victorian, the two buildings had a similar appearance.
“I wonder if the same builder did both of our houses,” he speculated as he scratched the cat’s neck.
“Probably. They told me this was originally a guest cottage for the Victorian.”
“So what brought you to this part of California...besides the urge to wander?”
“My Volkswagen.”
Her smile flashed, so he figured her sense of humor was in action rather than literalism.
“And why did your VW bring you to Willow’s Eve?” he said, trying to play along.
“My itchy feet. I was in Arizona for a few months and decided to head farther west.”
“Maybe your VW has itchy wheels, instead of your feet.”
Mandy looked surprised at the comment, then laughed. “Maybe it’s both.”
“So you didn’t grow up in Arizona either?”
“Nope. That was in Connecticut, but I’ve lived all over for the past eight years.”
“That sounds...interesting.”
She shrugged, which drew Daniel’s unwilling attention to the tight T-shirt over her breasts, reminding him he’d been celibate since he and Celia separated. And even before the end, they’d barely touched each other. After the divorce his male friends had urged him to go wild for a while with a variety of women, but even if he had been the type, he wouldn’t have done it in case Celia decided to use his behavior to get custody of Samantha.
“You seem to like cats,” Mandy said, gesturing at Mr. Spock, who was draped over his arms.
“Actually, it’s the first time I’ve ever held one.” He’d been surprised by his choice to pick up the animal. At first, he’d planned to simply shoo him out the back door, but there’d been something in the feline’s eyes that had made him feel guilty at the thought.
“You must have the touch,” Mandy told him. “He’s perfectly happy.”
Daniel glanced down at his right hand, busily rubbing behind the cat’s ears. “I guess I’ve seen people do this.”
She grinned. “Perhaps he’s exercising mind control to make you do what he wants. I’ve often wondered if cats can do that.”
“Yes, well...” Daniel gently disengaged Mr. Spock’s claws from his sleeve and placed him on the patio flagstones. The enormous animal stretched and strolled to Mandy’s chair, meowing imperiously until she grabbed an old towel from under the chair and draped it over her legs. Mr. Spock leaped onto her lap. “He seems to be overcoming his time of neglect.”
“Yeah, he’s eating like a lion. Poor baby, I think someone abandoned him.” She cocked her head. “That’s a mean thing to do. I doubt it was anyone in Willow’s Eve, but it could have been someone traveling or from another town. I’ve checked the newspaper, both here and in Vicksville, and with the veterinarians in the area to see if anyone is looking for him, but it’s a no-go.”
Daniel stared at the feline. Mr. Spock
