by Patricia Fry
“Blackie?” Edith repeated.
“One of Gail Allen’s wild cats.” Brianna faced Bud. “What do you think happened to him? Could you tell after you looked more closely at the wound?”
“I’d say some sort of large animal tore into him.” He asked Savannah, “Did you see his scars?”
She shook her head. “No, but Gail said this wasn’t his first rodeo.”
“Rodeo?” Brianna questioned.
“You know, his first injury—battle scar.”
“Oh, right.” She turned to Bud. “Will he be okay?”
“Sure, I think so. I hope he’ll have an easier life once we take the edge off him. He’ll probably get fat and lazy.”
“Going to retire him, are ya, Bud?” Gunther asked.
“Yup. And I hope to get my hands on the rest of her furry flock before they get too beat up.” He looked at Savannah and Brianna. “Did I hear her say she has twenty-one cats there?”
Savannah nodded. “Let’s hope we can educate her and help her to better manage her fur-flock, as you call them.” She finished her lemonade, stood, and said, “We’d better head back to the ole corral.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Brianna complained, “this isn’t a one-way proposition.”
Savannah chuckled.
“Hey, I’ll ride the mare back if you don’t want to,” Bud offered.
Brianna tilted her head. “Really?
“Sure, I’d like to see that back-road trail you two discovered.”
“Okay with you, Sis?” Brianna asked. “I’m afraid if I sit any longer in that saddle, I’ll be sore for the next week.”
“Sure, it’s okay with me.” Savannah studied Bud for a minute. “Probably won’t need to adjust the stirrups.”
Bud nodded. “Yeah, we use the same saddle, as a rule.” He asked Savannah, “Is she a nice mare?”
Brianna spoke up. “Yes. She’s a really good girl. Didn’t scare me at all.”
Bud grinned mischievously. “Well, let’s see if I can wake her up a little.”
“Now, Bud,” Savannah scolded, “we like that she’s a rocking horse. If we wanted a rodeo horse, we’d have taken that bucking bronco Barney’s been trying to get rid of.”
“That gelding’s a monster,” Bud agreed. “Yeah, at this stage in my life, I prefer a gentle ride.” He took Gypsy’s reins in his hands, grabbed hold of the saddle horn, and stepped up into the saddle.
Savannah hugged Brianna. “See you soon, Sis-Doc.”
“Yeah, Sis-Doc,” she responded. Brianna then said, “Hey, cowboy, here are the car keys.”
He caught them in the air and pocketed them, then clucked to the mare. “Okay, old girl, let’s see what you’ve got.”
****
“Well, hi there,” Michael greeted when Bud and Savannah rode into the Iveys’ yard. He lifted his cap and scratched his head. “So what happened to Gypsy’s original rider?”
Bud grinned. “Brianna bailed, so I took her place.” He patted the mare on the neck. “She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she’s a real nice ride. I hear you’ll be taking her out on the trail one of these days, Dr. Mike.”
“Uh…yeah? Where’d you hear that?” Before Bud could respond, Michael took Peaches’s lead rope and watched as Savannah slid down from the saddle. “So you girls made it all the way to Bud’s place, did you?”
She nodded. “And we ran into Iris.”
“And saved a cat,” Bud added.
Michael grinned. “Of course you did.” He asked, “Where? What happened?”
Savannah removed Peaches’s bridle. “Have you ever noticed that old run-down house near the housing tract behind us there?”
Michael blinked and shook his head, as if he were trying to follow her. “Not really,” he admitted. “I have no reason to go around that way much.”
Bud tied Gypsy to the hitching rail and started to loosen the cinch. “It used to be an old boarding house for miners.” When the others looked at him, he continued, “There was an article about it in a historical periodical Gil Gilbert showed me the other day. I go past that old place on my way to the feed store, and I’ve always been kind of curious about it.”
“It doesn’t look big enough to be a boarding house,” Savannah reasoned.
Bud lifted the saddle off the mare and headed for the tack room. “That’s because somewhere along the line, they removed the second story.” He stopped and added, “I didn’t know they could do that without tearing the whole house down.”
“Sure, they can,” Michael said when Bud returned from the tack room. “I don’t think they do it much anymore; typically, they’ll demolish the structure and rebuild. But, yeah, it can be done.”
“So when did the Allens move in?” Savannah asked.
He thought for a moment. “They’ve been there for as long as my folks can remember. The Allens owned that furniture store in town for decades.”
“Yeah, the old furniture store building’s still there, isn’t it?” Savannah frowned. “It’s been abandoned for a long time too.” She became thoughtful. “I remember that house when I was a kid. It scared me.”
“The old boarding house?” Bud asked, obviously amused.
“Yeah, but that was probably my dad’s fault. We’d pass that place on our way to the dump or to the pick-and-pay orchard and Dad would tell Bri and me scary stories about it. Every time we’d go past it, he’d come up with something new.” she shuddered, “…and scarier.”
“Yeah,” Michael said, “now I know the place you’re talking about. No wonder it’s run down, no one’s lived there for years.”
Savannah looked wide-eyed. “That’s what I thought, but it isn’t actually abandoned.”
“Oh, well sure, it’s probably infested with several generations of rats by now.” Michael asked, “Is that where you found the cat?”
Savannah nodded. “And we met the woman who lives there.”
“Someone lives there?” Michael asked, surprised. “A woman? In that ramshackle place?”
“Maybe she’s acting as caretaker for the museum,” Bud offered. “The article I read said something about the museum taking over the place, but I think that was printed back in the nineties. Obviously, nothing has occurred there yet. I guess their plans fell through.”
Savannah faced the men. “Well, it doesn’t appear that Gail plans to move from there any time soon. Brianna says she rarely even leaves the property. Michael, she has twenty-one cats living there.”
“No kidding?” Michael glanced in the direction of the house. “So who is this Gail person?”
“Gail Allen,” Savannah said, “apparently from the original Allen furniture-store people. And get this: she says she’s staying there because she’s waiting for something.”
“From UPS?” Michael joked.
Savannah laughed. “I doubt it.” She started to ease the saddle off Peaches when Michael nudged her aside and lifted it along with the pad and blanket. “Thanks,” she said picking up a brush and running it over the mare’s back. “Michael, if you attend the cat alliance meeting next week, you may get a chance to meet her. She really needs help with all those cats; she’s not getting them spayed and neutered or anything—probably no shots or flea control. She’s super proud and doesn’t want charity, but we may be able to convince her to let the alliance get involved, for the sake of the cats.” Thinking out loud, she added, “I sure hope she’ll come to the meeting.”
“Why wouldn’t she?” Bud asked.
“She’s kind of a recluse—stays to herself most of the time. She said she’d come, but I have a feeling she’ll change her mind. I might just have to push the envelope with her.”
“Why bother?” Michael asked.
“Well, there’s the issue of the cats, for one thing,” Savannah said. “Plus, I have this gnawing feeling that Gail Allen has a deep and maybe dark secret.”
Chapter 4
After settling the horses back into the corrals and filling their feed bins, then w
atching Bud drive off, Savannah and Michael joined Gladys and the children in the kitchen.
“Have a nice time?” Gladys asked.
“Very nice,” Savannah said.
Gladys glanced around. “Where’s your sister?”
“Oh, she was ready to get off the horse about halfway through our ride, so Bud rode Gypsy home.”
“She never did like horses as much as you do, Vannie.”
“She seemed to like Gypsy well enough, but she was afraid she might get sore if she rode back with me.”
“Smart,” Gladys said.
“She should be smart about taking care of herself; she’s a doctor after all,” Savannah quipped.
Gladys nodded in agreement, then asked, “So where did Bud meet you girls?
“At their ranch.”
Gladys looked surprised. “I didn’t know you could ride so far and wide around this community anymore. It seems that they’ve put in a lot of cement, blacktop, and homes since I was a girl.”
“Did you have a horse as a child, Gladys?” Michael asked.
“I sure did. Only two out of us four kids were interested in horses.”
Savannah laughed. “Auntie Maggie wasn’t one of them, was she?”
Gladys also laughed. “Oh, no.” She became serious. “Well, she wanted to be a cowgirl like Rose and me. Then something happened that changed her mind.”
“Was she thrown or kicked?” Michael asked.
“I don’t remember,” Gladys said, “but as I recall, she was about twelve or thirteen when she gave up on horses and started hoarding cats and dogs.”
He grinned. “She was a hoarder, huh?”
“Oh, yes,” Gladys said. “It was spring, and she had cats and kittens tucked in places you wouldn’t believe. When Mama found out, she was furious. Well, more surprised than furious, I guess—shocked. Every closet and cupboard she opened seemed to be stuffed with momma cats and kittens.”
“What did Grandma do?” Savannah asked.
“It took a while to sort through all of the little families and the single strays. But, as I remember it, some of the cats went back to their own homes.”
“She took other people’s cats?” Michael asked.
“I guess she did. If they seemed to be alone, Maggie brought them home.” Gladys smiled. “Mama let her keep a big male named Hoppy and a couple of females that had been hanging around the barn…oh, and a kitten she could bring inside. I guess that’s what started her love affair with cats.”
Savannah removed her boots and hat and went into the bathroom to wash up, then returned to the kitchen. As she helped her mother put dinner on the table she asked, “Mom, are you familiar with the old house on Butternut? The one that used to be a boarding house?”
“Sure. Why?”
“I’ve ridden past there a few times this week, and I was kind of curious about it. I just wondered what you know about it.”
“Do the Allens still live there?” Gladys asked. “They had an upscale furniture store downtown.”
“Yes. It appears that a daughter lives there now with a bunch of cats, which was a surprise to me, because the place looks totally abandoned. Have you been by there lately?”
Gladys considered the question. “I guess I haven’t. It’s not too far from here, is it—on the other side of that tract? I don’t get over that way much. So did you meet the daughter?”
“Yes. Her name’s Gail. I invited her to the meeting Wednesday so we can talk about helping with her cats. She doesn’t drive and planned to take the bus, but I think she should let me pick her up. I want to call, but I’m not sure she’ll get the message.”
“Why wouldn’t she?” Gladys asked.
“She doesn’t have a phone and relies on a cousin for communication with the outside world. I don’t know what happened to put her in such terrible financial straits, but it sure seems like she could sell that old house and live stress-free for the rest of her life if she handled things right.”
“Why doesn’t she?”
“She told Bri that she can’t leave the house because she has to wait there for something.”
Gladys frowned. “That’s odd, isn’t it?”
“Seems like it.” Savannah looked off into space. “I’m really curious about her situation. Things just don’t add up.” She smiled at her mother. “Well, let’s eat, shall we?”
“I’m ready,” Michael announced as he eased Teddy into the high chair. Savannah lifted Lily onto the booster seat and prepared the child’s plate. When Michael saw her glancing around the room, he asked, “What are you looking for?”
“The cat,” Savannah said,
“Which cat? I just saw Buffy in her bed, and I’m pretty sure Walter’s holding down the plum chair, as always. Oh, you must be looking for Rags. Now that’s one fellow I can’t keep track of; he doesn’t have a favorite place like the other animals do.” When Savannah tilted her head, he explained, “Lexie’s usually in her dog bed when she isn’t begging for a handout or a petting, and Buffy’s either in her bed, on Lily’s bed, or on your lap. Walter stays pretty much under that blanket on the plum chair, except for mornings when he warms himself in the sun’s rays coming through the upstairs bathroom window. But your cat…”
“What about my cat?” she challenged playfully.
“Well, he doesn’t seem to have any favorite places, except for maybe the window perch, our bed, the back of the sofa, Buffy’s bed, the crib, the bathtub, the...”
“Never mind,” Savannah complained.
Michael continued, “I’m just saying, you never know where you’re going to find him. In fact, usually he finds us.”
“He just has a big personality,” Savannah said. “I caught him on the top shelf in the linen closet the other day. I found him only because he’d knocked a few washcloths out onto the floor. When I started to put them back, he moved and nearly scared me to death.”
“Scared you?” Michael asked.
“Well, startled the heck out of me.”
Michael chuckled. “And what about the time we found him snoozing in the kids’ toy box? Good thing we’d taken that heavy lid off of it or he’d still be in there today.” When Savannah started to walk away, he said, “You aren’t going to look for him now, are you? Come on, eat your dinner. He’s around here someplace.”
“I guess you’re right,” she said, sitting down at the table.
The family had finished eating, and Savannah and Gladys were clearing the dishes when Michael called from the living room, “Hon, I think that’s your phone.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I had the water running; didn’t hear it.” She approached the buffet in the dining room and picked up her phone. “Hello?”
“Hello. Is this Savannah Ivey?”
“Yes.”
“This is Adele Keyes. I’m Gail Allen’s cousin. Listen, she just walked over here and asked me to let you know that she thinks your cat’s visiting her.”
“What?” Savannah nearly shouted. “What makes her think that?”
“I’m not sure. I’m just the messenger.”
“I’m sorry, Adele. I didn’t mean to…so what did she tell you?”
“She said you were there earlier and now your cat just showed up. She recognized him from the photo in the paper a while back—you know, with the story about him finding Mr. Kittleman. She’s always been fond of Mr. Kittleman, and we both followed that story religiously. Anyway, she has your cat and says she’ll hold him there until you come get him. Do you think you can go get him?”
“Absolutely,” Savannah said. “I’ll go over there right now. Oh my, I had no idea. I mean, I haven’t seen him around here this evening, but we have a big house and...well, thank you again. If you talk to Gail, tell her I’m on my way.”
“Certainly.”
“I don’t believe it!” Savannah shouted.
“What?” Gladys and Michael both asked.
“Gail Allen’s cousin, Adele, says that Rags is at her house.”
“At whose house?” Michael asked.
“Gail’s house.”
Michael walked toward her with Teddy in his arms. “Is she sure? How in the world could that happen?”
Savannah shook her head and grumped, “Who knows?” She faced him. “Did he follow our trail there this afternoon? And how did he get out in the first place?” She shook her head. “I sure don’t know.”
“Hon, it probably isn’t Rags at all. Let’s don’t get upset until we know for sure.” He paused then asked, “The cat’s okay, isn’t he? He’s not hurt?”
“I don’t think so. Adele didn’t say anything about him being hurt.” She picked up her purse and keys. “I’d better go find out if that’s him. Darn cat. See you later.” As she stepped out onto the porch her phone chimed again. She looked at the screen. When she saw her aunt’s name, she almost decided to ignore it. Instead, she took the call. “Hi. What’s up?”
“Just haven’t talked to you in a while. And I have a question.”
“What?” Savannah asked rather curtly.
“Your sister’s here and she said you rode out past the old Baker place today.”
“Baker?” Savannah questioned.
“Yes, it’s known as the Baker place. It was the Bakers who built it and opened it as a boarding house.”
“Well, yes, then,” Savannah said, easing into the driver’s seat of her SUV with Rags’s halter and leash in her hand. “Why?”
Margaret explained, “Well, Brianna said someone’s living there, and I’m having trouble believing it because I just haven’t seen any activity around that place in years—I mean, years. In fact, the last time I was there, it was a sort of crazy. I was with a couple of other gals, rounding up cats. Vannie, we found a broken window and went inside the house to see if any cats were in there. I was telling Bri, a section of the floor had caved in and we had a horrible time getting cats out from under those floorboards. There’s a basement below, you know, and I was afraid we’d crash through. No one could possibly be living in that place unless they’ve done some serious repairs since then, and I sure haven’t seen anything like that going on there.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, except that I’m on my way over there right now. Want to ride along? I’m just about to your house.”
