bath.”
Fascinated, Daniel watched as Mr. Spock scrubbed his nose and again behind his ears. He’d known that cats bathed themselves, had even seen it once or twice on television, but it was different watching the process in person. And the animal was using its paw like a washcloth, which he hadn’t seen before.
Twisting into a contorted position, Mr. Spock began working on the area just under his tail.
Daniel wrinkled his nose. “I’m glad I don’t have to bathe myself that way.”
“That’s for sure. Listen, why don’t you take a load off? I’ll get you a glass of iced tea.”
He hesitated, having figured on dropping off the cat if it was hers, before leaving politely. Spending social time with fellow workers had never been a habit, but sitting alone in the Victorian for the entire evening was unappealing. Surely it wouldn’t do any harm to share Mandy’s company for a short while. Besides, she seemed to understand Willow’s Eve; he might pick up some useful information.
“Iced tea would be terrific,” he said.
She lifted Mr. Spock off her lap, then squirmed out of the Adirondack chair and laughed self-deprecatingly. “I love these things, but they aren’t built for easy liftoff.”
Daniel wished he hadn’t agreed to the iced tea—knowing he’d find it hard to forget the sinuous movements Mandy had made. Reminding himself that it was just the long dry period he’d endured, he sat in the second chair. The cat immediately leaped onto the broad armrest and meowed plaintively. Daniel looked into the animal’s green eyes, amazed at the sense of untamed wildness he got from them.
“Is something wrong?” Mandy asked, coming out the door and handing him a large tumbler.
“No, it’s just that he’s not really domesticated, is he?”
“Heck no. The line between tame and wild is paper thin in a cat.”
“What does he want? He keeps looking at me.”
Mandy laughed. “He’s probably unhappy you don’t have a proper lap for him to sit on.”
“So that’s what the towel is for.”
“Yes, and self-protection. He has sharp claws, and wearing shorts exposes a lot of bare skin.”
As soon as Mandy sat again and laid the towel across her legs, Mr. Spock abandoned Daniel and returned to her.
“How are things over at the house?” she asked.
“Okay. I’m sort of camping out until the movers get here, although that sounds odd in such a grandiose place. Incidentally, the way the house was supplied has been very helpful, along with the groceries, of course. Where should I send a thank-you note?”
“Probably to Jane Cutman. She was the chair of the welcome committee. Everyone will be pleased we guessed right about what you’d need.”
“Great. You mentioned she lived in the yellow house on the other side of your place.”
“Yup, the one with that glorious flower garden.”
Daniel drank some of the tea, trying to release the tension from his first day on the job, but he couldn’t stop recalling his discussion with the mayor. It had been the proverbial “other shoe dropping.”
“You seem to like Willow’s Eve,” he said, wondering if she knew anything about the impending water and sewer issue.
“It’s a great place.”
“I’ve never lived in a small town, so I don’t know what’s typical. Especially in such a rural area.”
“Me, either.” Her words were distorted by a sudden yawn. “Sorry, don’t know where that came from.”
“Lack of sleep? You couldn’t have gotten much rest last night after cleaning my office.”
“That’s funny. I’d almost forgotten.”
At first Daniel wondered if she was being sarcastic, but Mandy’s face showed no sign of it. Instead she was busily petting the long-haired feline on her lap, making funny little sounds to Mr. Spock.
After draining his glass, he stood. “I should probably go,” he said. “Thanks for the tea.”
“Thanks for bringing Mr. Spock home. Sorry he barged into your kitchen. I’ll try to keep him inside. I don’t want him to be a nuisance.”
“Don’t worry. He’s welcome.”
Strangely, Daniel realized he meant it. The cat had brought a measure of warmth to the Victorian, making him wonder if he should consider getting a pet. Samantha would probably enjoy it. He’d talk with Joyce and see what she thought.
* * *
CHRIS RUSSELL PARKED in his garage and stretched. It was too bad he had only two weeks for vacation. Since Susan had taken three off from the mill, they might have taken a longer trip, except that she had wanted to be home for the city council meeting. Nevertheless, it was good to be home again, weird as it seemed with Evan away at college.
As Chris slid out of the car, he glanced at his bicycle, deciding to ride it to work tomorrow. To date, he’d kept his resolution to ride the bike to the forestry station a minimum of two days a week—it was much better for the environment. Besides, the exercise was healthy and he had an official vehicle for any fieldwork.
He came into the house and found his wife in the kitchen. He pulled her into a hot, sexy kiss. It was great that after twenty years of marriage they were still this good together. After a couple of minutes, he eased his grip and stepped back to admire the flush on her face. He grinned. “Hi, honey. Did you have a good day?”
“Not bad. I saw Mandy and met the new city manager...and had coffee with Dad at Elena’s.”
His nerves tightened. Thankfully, Susan didn’t mention her father very often. Big Joe Jensen was, in Chris’s opinion, a boil on the butt of creation, even if the description was a bit clichéd.
“Oh,” he said shortly.
“Yeah, he’s still upset we didn’t go to Hawaii.”
“How is it his damn business?”
“He’s my father, Chris.”
“Yeah, well...let’s just forget it.”
An odd expression crossed Susan’s face, but then she smiled. “Right. How was work?”
“Great. What’s for dinner?”
“Quesadillas and salad.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll go get washed up.”
* * *
SUSAN CHECKED THE food in the oven and pulled the salad from the refrigerator. She’d considered making pork or chicken tacos for herself. It wasn’t that she objected to Chris being
