Cat Star 9 - Wildcat

by Cheryl Brooks

  After thanking Ulla for her help, she terminated the link and went back to the bedroom with a mixing bowl full of the dry food she normally fed to her own cats. Jerden still hadn’t moved and neither had the leopard. She shook the bowl enticingly. “Here you go, Cria. Want to eat this outside?”

  The big cat ignored her. Sara was about to call her again, but somehow saying “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty” seemed a little ridiculous. Stepping closer, she set down the bowl. Cria gave it a brief sniff and looked away.

  “I sure hope you’re housebroken,” Sara muttered. “I do not want to have to clean up after you.”

  Cria got up suddenly, but instead of eating anything, she simply stalked around to the other side of the bed and leaped onto it. Settling down next to Jerden, she began licking his arm.

  “Oh, great.” Sara had her cats conditioned to stop what they were doing whenever she snapped her fingers. She doubted Cria would respond the same way, but figured it was worth a try.

  Cria ignored that, too.

  The use of force was out of the question, but how did anyone get a leopard off their bed that clearly wanted to stay put?

  “You don’t,” she muttered, answering her own question. “Well, the food’s here if you want it, Cria. Guess I’ll have to leave a door open so you can get out if you want. Something tells me the litter box in the bathroom would be woefully inadequate.”

  Not wanting the cat to think she was on the run, she left the room with careful nonchalance and went out to the kitchen. When she opened the back door, Jerden’s other pets—at least a dozen cats and dogs—marched inside.

  “What the hell?” Her next thought was that Ulla would be wasting her time going over to Jerden’s place to feed them. “Guess I’d better call her back,” she said as the entire menagerie trotted by, a tiny Yorkshire terrier leading the way.

  When the last cat—a long-haired, bobtailed calico—had entered, Sara followed them to the bedroom, only to stop at the threshold in stunned silence.

  Vladen might have called each of the animals and told them the same thing he’d told her. The cats were already settling themselves on top of Jerden and the dogs were curled up all around him, except where Cria lay stretched out next to his left side. Sara was about to protest this invasion when she heard a soft nicker outside the window.

  Stepping carefully around the bed, she rolled up the shade to find Danuban staring back at her. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!”

  The stallion snorted and tossed his head.

  “You are not coming in my house!”

  Danuban nudged the glass. Rolling her eyes, Sara unlatched the casement and allowed it to swing open. The big horse was tall enough that his head fit perfectly through the window and his subsequent neigh could’ve awakened the dead. Jerden didn’t move a muscle.

  “Okay, I give up.” Shaking her head, she gave Danuban a pat on the nose and then went out to the kitchen to fix breakfast for the crew. “Just hope he doesn’t start drawing enocks.” Bonnie and Lynx might’ve made a lot of money raising the large, flightless birds, but though their eggs were delicious, the birds themselves were extremely vicious. Having a horse in the house was infinitely preferable.

  She was whipping up a batch of pancake batter when Drania came in. “So how’s Jerden this morning?”

  Sara nodded toward the bedroom. “See for yourself.”

  Drania followed Sara’s nod, moving with her odd, chimp-like gait. Sara gave it a few moments and followed, still stirring the batter. If she’d thought the animals draped all over Jerden would have freaked the Rutaran out, she’d have been wrong. Drania was standing next to the bed, combing her long fingers through his hair.

  She glanced up as Sara entered. “Even zoned out, he is one fine hunk of a man.”

  Cria let out a loud purr, almost as though voicing her agreement while Drania resumed gazing at him, tracing the line of his brow with her fingertips.

  “Yes, I suppose he is.”

  Drania sighed and turned away from him. “It’s not fair. Here you’ve got something like that in your bed, and that’s the best you can say about him?”

  Sara shrugged. “I can’t help it. I mean, I can see that he’s a perfect specimen, but…” She stopped there, shaking her head. “He does smell nice, and his hair is beautiful, but I—”

  “Don’t like men, do you?”

  The pang near her heart almost made her gasp, but she managed to control her reaction. “It’s not that, I just—”

  “Prefer women?”

  “No.” Sara didn’t know what to say, or even how to explain it. Throwing the mixing bowl across the room seemed a more viable option. She controlled that impulse, too. “I—never mind. It doesn’t matter anyway.” She turned and went back to the kitchen.

  No, it didn’t matter.

  So, why am I feeling like this?

  Sara couldn’t explain that, either. Her vision clouded with tears as she poured the batter onto the griddle. Thankfully, this was an action she could perform in her sleep. Her stable hands always wanted pancakes—never eggs or bacon or toast or cereal—and with enough syrup to drown a rat. At least they all like the same things.

  Zatlen and Reutal came in just as she was setting the last plate on the table.

  Reutal took a seat and inhaled deeply. “Ah! Smells wonderful.” He glanced toward the bedroom. “Is the cat coming to breakfast?”

  Sara rolled her eyes. “Which one? There must be at least six of them.”

  “Eight if you include Jerden,” Drania said as she climbed onto a chair.

  “He’s the one I meant,” Reutal said with a snicker. “Have a nice time with him last night, Sara?”

  “He’s still asleep,” Drania said. Her tone was neutral, but her expression was wickedly suggestive.

  The Norludian licked his lips lasciviously. “Ah, wore him out, did you?”

  “He’s asleep,” Sara said firmly. “As in comatose—or whatever you call it when a Zetithian conks out like that.”

  Reutal grinned. “Sure he is. That’s what they all say.”

  “It must’ve taken you all night to come up with that one.” Sara had never given Reutal many opportunities to needle her on sexual matters before. If that was the best he could do, he was clearly out of practice. “Just because he’s in my bed doesn’t mean I did anything with him besides sleep.”

  Reutal shrugged and picked up the syrup bottle. “Your loss.”

  Sara stared at the syrup cascading over his stack of pancakes as she tried to sort out exactly what he’d meant by that remark. Was he actually encouraging her to… consort with Jerden?

  After dabbing a suckered fingertip in the sticky sweetness, he licked his finger. “Just one taste of his syrup will give you the best orgasm of your life.”

  If Jerden gave her any kind of orgasm at all, it would be the best, by virtue of the fact that it would be the first. She couldn’t very well admit that to Reutal, however. He’d never let that subject drop. “So I’ve heard.” She was about to move on to the plans for the day when Reutal opened his mouth to speak. It was time to set him straight. “I’ve also heard that he’s still mourning that Audrey woman’s death. He’s not going to respond to anyone—at least, not for a while.”

  Reutal picked up a bowl of blueberries and sprinkled them on top of the syrupy mess on his plate. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, then, doesn’t it?”

  “I believe I’ll leave that job for someone else.”

  Reutal nodded at Drania. “She’d probably be happy to help, except I’m not sure she’s his type.”

  “I’m not his type, either,” Sara said bluntly. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Yeah,” Zatlen said, “like who’s going to help me build up the fence around Danuban’s paddock?”

  Reutal snorted a laugh. “Can’t keep
him away from the cat, can you?”

  The conversation had come right back to Jerden. That didn’t take long… “I’m thinking it might be easier to leave him loose. With Jerden here, it’s not like he’s going to run off.” She paused, grimacing. “He’s probably already trampled my roses. I’m almost afraid to look.”

  The main rose bed wasn’t directly beneath her window, but it was relatively close, and some of her oldest varieties were planted near the foundation. Destroying her roses was the one transgression that would be difficult to forgive. Horses may have been her livelihood and her passion, but roses kept her sane. Something about their scent and the way they responded to her care by producing such beauty affected her in a way that nothing else ever had. Gazing into the depths of a bloom while inhaling the intoxicating fragrance seemed to empty her mind, quieting the background noise of continuous thinking.

  “I doubt it,” said Zatlen. “Too many thorns. He’d avoid them.” His words were dismissive, yet they contained a note of compassion.

  Sara had seen the Tryosian sniffing the blossoms more than once, though whether they appealed to his masculine side or to his more feminine nature, she couldn’t have said. Maybe it didn’t matter. Either way, roses were good for the soul. “I sure hope you’re right. I’ve got some varieties that would be tough to replace.”

  “I’d be more worried about what all of his animals are doing to your bed,” Reutal said. “You’ll have fleas all over the place.”

  “I know.” Sara wasn’t sure she ever wanted to sleep in that bed again. The couch was sounding better all the time. If she slept there, at least Reutal couldn’t accuse her of messing around with Jerden while he was unconscious. “Vladen said something about treating the leopard for fleas. I’m just not sure I want to be the one to do it. Ulla seems to know Jerden’s pets pretty well. Maybe she can do it. Speaking of which, I need to call her back.”

  The call proved unnecessary, however, for Ulla arrived just as Sara was finishing the after-breakfast cleanup and the others were heading out the door.

  “Thought I’d come here first,” she said. “How is he?”

  “Still out,” Sara replied.

  “Still gorgeous,” Drania added with a sigh. “I hope he never leaves.”

  Ulla snickered. “Don’t you have a boyfriend in Nimbaza?”

  Drania’s ears twitched. “So what if I do? I’m not blind and I’m not dead. If you’d seen him come riding into the barn…”

  “Ulla has seen him ride,” Sara admonished. “Though she probably shouldn’t have.” She paused, wiping her wet hands on a towel. “I was about to call you, Ulla. Jerden’s pets followed him here, and even that dratted stallion has his head stuck in the window. Don’t suppose you’d care to check the leopard for fleas, would you?”

  “I could,” Ulla replied. “But I bet I won’t find any. Jerden takes really good care of his animals. I’ve seen him brushing them. Sometimes he’s at it for hours.”

  Sara couldn’t help but feel relieved. “That’s one less thing to worry about.”

  Reutal’s eyes danced with mischief. “Yes, and you can climb right in with him tonight without a care in the world.”

  “Ha! Not with that leopard in there. It was bad enough with her sleeping on the floor last night. There won’t be room for me. We should probably turn him, though. Want to give me a hand, Ulla?”

  “Sure.”

  “The rest of you can head on out to the barn. I’ll be there in a little bit.”

  Ulla followed Sara into the bedroom. Danuban no longer had his head in the window, but was grazing in the yard nearby. Cria had shifted slightly, almost as though making room for them to turn Jerden. “If we can get these cats off him, it shouldn’t be too hard. He’s like a wet rag.”

  “Funny how they do that, isn’t it?” Ulla asked. “It’s really scary when they’re babies. You think they’re dead, but they aren’t.”

  Sara nodded. “Yeah, that would be scary. They’re completely helpless, too. It’s a very odd trait—but useful, I suppose.”

  Though Sara probably could’ve done it alone, she was glad Ulla was with her. The animals seemed to know her, except for the little terrier that barked in protest the moment they began.

  “I’ve never seen that little yappy dog before,” Ulla said. “What is it, anyway? It looks like a rat.”

  “She’s a Yorkie,” Sara replied with a chuckle. “You sound just like my father. He never could stand those little lap dogs.”

  “Doesn’t seem like Jerden’s type, either. Somehow I can’t see her running up the mountainside with him.”

  “Probably not.” Sara gathered up Jerden’s hair and spread it out on the pillow. “How do they ever keep this long, curly hair from getting all matted up?”

  Ulla smiled. “Mom loves combing Dad’s hair. She likes the way it makes him purr.”

  Sara let that remark pass. It seemed too… intimate, aside from the fact that it didn’t answer her question. “At least he isn’t tossing and turning all the time. With him lying so still, it should stay fairly neat.”

  “If it doesn’t, you just have to start at the ends and work your way up.”

  “Like combing a horse’s tail?”

  Ulla nodded.

  “Speaking of horses, you need to go get Akira saddled for your lesson.”

  “Sure thing,” Ulla said brightly. “Let me know if you need any help with this lot.” She gave the Yorkie a pat on the head and left, closing the door behind her.

  Shaking her head, Sara glanced around what had once been her bedroom—a room that had become a zoo overnight. Every one of the cats and dogs was gazing at her, their eyes steady and calm, almost as if they had a message to convey.

  This, too, shall pass…

  Sara didn’t doubt that for a moment. As she smoothed the covers over Jerden’s shoulder, the warmth of his body crept into her psyche, creating waves of contentment. The leopard seemed to sense something similar, yawning as she lounged onto her back, licking her paw in a languid manner. The Yorkie curled up in the bend of Jerden’s knee, and the calico cat sat perched like a sentinel on his hip. Her own bobtailed cats, Kate and Allie, were nestled between Jerden and Cria. “You traitors,” she muttered. The rest of the menagerie surrounded him, pinning him beneath the blankets. He couldn’t have fallen out of bed if he tried.

  With a reluctant sigh, Sara propped the back door open when she left for the stable. Allowing animals—and probably a lot of insects—to come and go from her house at will went against her better judgment, but she couldn’t see that she had much choice. Nevertheless, she had a sneaking suspicion that a house full of fleas would turn out to be the least of her worries.

  Chapter 6

  Fearing the worst, Sara pulled on her leather gloves and rounded the house with her pruners and hoe in hand. Fortunately, though she found hoofprints between the climbing Don Juan and the Joseph’s Coat, the stallion’s legs showed no evidence of scratches, and the plants were undamaged. If he’d trampled the Burgundian or the cabbage roses—varieties which were every bit as ancient as the Andalusian breed itself—she and the stallion would’ve had words. She sighed with relief, grateful for whatever whim had dictated that she not plant any roses directly beneath her window and also for Danuban’s relatively dainty feet. “You are one lucky fellow, Danny boy.”

  Without even raising his head, the stallion glanced at her and continued grazing on the strip of short turf between the rose beds.

  “Going to do double duty as a lawn mower?”

  Danuban shook his head and snorted.

  Sara snipped the dead blooms off the nearest bush. “It is rather beneath you. By the way, Vladen assures me that Jerden will recover. Just wish I knew what was wrong with him.” Cocking her head, she fixed a quizzical gaze on the horse. “You probably know exactly what’s ailing him, don’t you? Too bad you couldn
’t have taken him somewhere else—though if you had, you wouldn’t be here, either. Would you?”

  Danuban apparently thought the answer was obvious because he ignored her question and kept right on nibbling at the grass.

  “Yeah, right,” she muttered. “Shut up and get on with your chores, Sara.” Truth be told, she didn’t consider tending the roses to be a chore. Roses were therapy.

  After she’d finished the pruning, she picked up her hoe. Cultivating around the bushes was a relatively simple task, which was fortunate because she could scarcely keep her eyes off the stallion.

  She had nearly finished weeding the last bed when a gray leaf caught her eye. Picking it up, she turned it over in her hand, noting with relief that the edges were smooth, rather than serrated. She’d been fooled by that one before. “Not juluva weed, thank God. You don’t need to be eating any of that stuff.”

  Danuban edged closer, and as she bent to pull another weed, he nudged her in the butt, driving her onto her knees. “Thanks a lot, buddy.” Ignoring her attempt to push him away, he nudged her again. “Oh, so now you want to be friendly, do you? Okay, fine, but you are not coming in the house.”

  Still kneeling, she turned to face him. His dark, intelligent eyes gazed at her through a forelock so long and thick it nearly reached the tip of his nose. His ears pricked toward her as she trailed her fingers through his hair, unable to avoid comparing it to Jerden’s. “Your hair is very pretty, but his is softer and curlier.” Raising his head, Danuban nipped at her cropped locks. “And, yes, both of you have more hair than I do.”

  There was a reason for that. Throughout her childhood, Sara’s hair had been practically orange and completely unmanageable, and though braids might’ve controlled the frizziness, she had never been able to endure the ridicule of her classmates long enough to make it past the “clown” stage. As an adult, her unruly hair had darkened to a coppery tint, but since shorter hair suited her lifestyle, she saw no point straightening it or letting it grow. She left the long, romantic locks to her horses.