by E. A. West
He continued to pet the kitten’s worn body until the vet returned. The man worked efficiently, explaining the process of giving the kitten an overdose of anesthetic to end its life painlessly. Basir wasn’t sure he wanted that much detail, but he had a feeling the vet wanted to talk to cover his own sadness at having to put down such a young creature. If only the owners had taken responsibility for their cat’s litter, it never would have come to this. Basir felt renewed anger at the situation, but he was wise enough to realize he would likely never know who had abandoned such defenseless creatures.
Finally, the kitten’s breathing stopped altogether, and the vet put on a stethoscope to check it. He shook his head as he removed the stethoscope. “At least it’s not suffering anymore.”
Basir nodded and held his hand out to the man. “Thank you for carrying out the task with compassion.”
The vet shook his hand, looking a little surprised. “It’s the least I can do in a difficult situation like this. The little one you’re holding should be all right once he gains a little more weight. Regular feedings will help with that. Be sure to keep the little guy warm and rub him every now and then with a washcloth to simulate the mother’s tongue.”
“I will. Will you need me to bring him back here?”
“He’ll need his kitten shots in a few weeks, but as long as he’s doing all right, I shouldn’t need to see him before then. You’re welcome to call or come in if you have any questions, however.”
“Thank you.”
The vet glanced at the tiny furry body on the examining table. “I’d better take care of this little guy. The receptionist will have your bill ready for you in a few minutes.”
“Thank you.” Basir laid his hand over his heart and bowed his head, then he straightened and left the room.
Two people had arrived with their pets, and they watched Basir as he went to a chair against the wall and sat down. He smoothed the kitten and tucked him into the edge of his T-shirt while he tried to ignore the curious expressions of the two women. One had a plastic carrier holding a fluffy white cat. The other held the leash of a small dog lying in her lap.
The one with the cat broke the silence. “That kitten you have there seems rather young.”
“It is about three weeks old.” Basir risked glancing at her, but quickly looked away again. “Someone abandoned it on my friend’s farm.”
“Oh, my,” the woman with the dog said. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Not originally, no.” Basir glanced out the window overlooking the parking lot and hoped Ryan would return soon.
“Where are you from?”
“Afghanistan.” He sighed when the woman gasped. Maybe if he volunteered a little information, she wouldn’t ask any stupid questions. “I was an interpreter for the Americans.”
His plan failed. She placed a hand at her throat and stared at him. “So, you’re not one of those Taliban people we hear such terrible things about?”
“No, I am not a Talib. I risked my life to help the Americans fight the Taliban.”
“That’s quite admirable.” The woman fanned herself briefly, and then lowered her hand. “So, what brings you to our little town?”
“My friend invited me to stay with him and his sister.” He spied Ryan crossing the parking lot and breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure how much more of this uncomfortable wait he could endure.
Before the woman with the dog could speak again, Ryan stepped inside. He scanned the waiting room and walked over to Basir. “Vet finished?”
“Yes.” Basir fought against the sadness at the recent memory of seeing the kitten breathe its last. “He says this one should be fine with plenty of formula.”
The receptionist called them over, and Ryan paid the bill. Then, they left the office with the two women staring after Basir. He didn’t mind leaving them behind, especially the one with the dog. Despite living with Meghan and Ryan for nearly a month, the people in this small town still couldn’t seem to accept that he was a man starting a new life for himself in a safer place.
When they arrived back at the farm, Ryan gave Basir the bag containing the bottle and can of formula and went to deal with the deceased kittens. Basir took his tiny charge into the house and headed straight for the kitchen. The kitten had started acting hungry again, and Basir intended to feed the little guy any time he asked, even if it was more than every two hours.
He found a hand towel and wrapped it around the kitten. Then he laid the small bundle on the table and turned his attention to the feeding supplies. The instructions for mixing the powdered kitten formula were simple enough, but when he looked at the bottle’s packaging, he discovered a small problem. The nipple didn’t have a hole in it, so the kitten wouldn’t be able to eat from it.
As he searched through the drawers and found only items that would make too big a hole, the back door opened. He looked over expecting to see Ryan, but he found Meghan staring at him instead.
“What on earth is going on in here?” she asked over the plaintive mewing coming from the hand towel on the table.
Basir slowly closed the drawer of miscellaneous stuff he had been rummaging through and turned to face her. His heart pounded, and he prayed he hadn’t offended her in some way. She didn’t look thrilled, but on the other hand, she didn’t look angry either. He opened his mouth to offer an explanation, but she rushed to the table and lifted the edge of the towel.
“Oh, the poor little thing!” She met Basir’s gaze, and he found it impossible to look away as she spoke again. “Where did it come from? Where is its mother?”
“Someone hid it in a box in the weeds by the road.” Basir retrieved the small bottle from the counter, hoping Meghan could help solve the feeding issue. “He needs to eat, but I can’t find anything to poke a hole with. Do you have a needle or something small like that I can use?”
“I have needles in my workshop.” She approached and held out her hand. “Why don’t you give me the bottle? You can comfort the poor noisy baby while I make it useable.”
He handed over the bottle, and she swept out of the room. Another round of mewing, accompanied by lots of squirming drew him to the towel-wrapped bundle on the table. He gently scooped it up and uncovered the kitten. It seemed oblivious to his presence until he turned it on its back and started lightly stroking its belly. The kitten stared up at him with big, blue eyes and quieted.
Meghan returned and moved to the counter where the can of formula sat. “You keep doing whatever it is that’s soothing the little guy, and I’ll mix up its dinner.”
He watched her move with ease as she prepared the bottle, and he wondered again why no one had married her yet. Did no one notice what a wonderful woman she was? Could no one see her compassionate nature and the love that flowed from her to everyone she met?
The kitten squirmed and started complaining again, bringing his attention back to it. His musings about his best friend’s sister would have to wait. Right now, the innocent life in his hands took precedence.
~*~
Meghan watched Basir coax the young, orphaned kitten into accepting the bottle, and her heart melted. Seeing a guy with a tough exterior caring for such a tiny creature was sweet enough, but the way he murmured softly to the kitten as he fed it was heartwarming. The kitten put its little front paws on the bottle and tried to knead like it would its mother, but the paws kept slipping. Basir adjusted his hold on the bottle, placing his finger where the kitten could easily reach. The poor baby put its paws on him and kneaded his skin, appearing to relax now that it had contact with something soft and warm.
Basir glanced up, his tawny eyes shining. “This little one will be fine. He is accepting the bottle with no problem, so he will soon gain the weight he is missing.”
“That’s a relief.” Meghan watched the kitten eat a moment longer. A bit of formula seeped out of the corners of its mouth. “He’s so scrawny.”
“He just needs plenty to eat about every two hours.�
� He stroked the kitten’s belly with his thumb. “He will have to stay with me at night.”
“That’s fine. I have a couple of old towels you can use to make him a soft nest that can be easily washed in case of accidents.”
Basir looked at her again. “You do not mind me keeping a cat in the house?”
“Of course not. I had a pet cat growing up. A big orange tabby named Bounce. I’ve just been too busy with the alpacas and my yarn business to think about getting another one.”
His gaze drifted back to the kitten. “Kashmala...”
Meghan caught her breath. After what Ryan had told her about Afghan men not talking about the women in their family, she was honored and stunned that Basir was bringing up his dead wife for the second time in the short time she’d known him. She waited for what felt like an eternity before he spoke again.
“She did not approve of animals in the house,” he said, his voice soft and low. “Not even a cat.”
Meghan slid into the chair across from him, eager to see how long this conversation would last. “I’ve met a few people who feel the same way. I don’t understand the reluctance to have pets, but to each his—or her—own, I guess.”
Basir nodded, his gaze never leaving the creature in his hands. “You are much different than my wife was.”
Disconcerted by the statement, Meghan waited a moment to see if he would clarify it. When he remained silent, she decided to take a risk. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
His expression turned pensive, leaving her to wonder if she’d made a mistake by asking. But then he lifted his gaze to meet hers, and she saw the vulnerability in his eyes.
“It is a good thing. I don’t think Kashmala liked me very much.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Not only had he lost his wife so young, it hadn’t even been a happy marriage? She wanted to reach out and lay a hand on his arm in comfort, but she wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet. He had been gradually talking to her more and with greater ease, but she knew he still had a long way to go before he could fully accept her touchy-feely American ways.
Basir shrugged as he pulled the bottle from the sleeping kitten’s mouth and set it on the table. “Our families thought we would be a good match. We were not, but I cared for her.”
“I’m sure you both did the best you could under the circumstances.”
“I tried, anyway.” He drew in a deep breath and released it on a sigh. “Meghan, I am not a good man in Afghanistan.”
She struggled to get past her shock at the confession. How could such a kind and wonderful person think he wasn’t a good man in his homeland? Had he changed who he was in the time since coming to the United States? She doubted it, since her brother had nothing but good things to say about Basir.
“What do you mean you’re not a good man? You seem like a good man to me, and Ryan has been saying you are all along.”
“To Americans I am, but to my family and my village...” He shook his head and sighed. “My honor has been destroyed there. I cannot redeem it fully, especially now that I live here. I am nothing...an outcast.”
Her heart went out to him as she saw how difficult it was for him to tell her this. She wasn’t even sure why he was telling her, but it made her feel special to know he trusted her enough to share something so painful.
“Basir, I know you hold onto the past and the culture you came from, but you can’t let it hold you back from your future here.” She took a risk and reached across the table to touch his hand. “You are an honorable man now, one I am proud to call my friend. I know Ryan feels the same way.”
To her surprise, he turned his hand over and grasped her fingers. A hint of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he met her gaze. “It heals me to hear you say that. It gives me hope.”
Before she could ask about his hopes, Ryan came in the back door. His gaze landed on their clasped hands, but he didn’t immediately say anything. Instead, he went to the sink and washed his hands. Only after he’d tossed the hand towel back on the counter did he speak.
“What’s going on?” He indicated their hands, and Basir released Meghan’s fingers.
“Forgive me, Ryan.” Basir ducked his head, appearing much guiltier than the situation called for.
Meghan met her brother’s scrutiny head on. “We were talking.”
Ryan nodded, his gaze going back to his friend. “Basir, I think we need to talk.”
Ire rose in Meghan, lifting her to her feet. “Ryan, I don’t see any reason why you need to talk to him about anything right at the moment. We were talking. That’s it.”
“He was holding your hand.” Ryan shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know how I missed it for so long.”
“Missed what?”
Basir lifted his head, regret shining in his eyes. “I am attracted to you, Meghan. Forgive me for offending your family. That was not my intention.”
She walked around the table and knelt beside him, ignoring her brother’s irritated expression. “There’s nothing to forgive. I’ve suspected for quite some time that you were attracted to me.”
“You have?”
“Yes. I am not as blind as my brother.” She laid her hand on his arm, no longer afraid to touch him. “Just so you know, the feeling is mutual.”
“What?” Ryan took a step toward them.
Meghan stood and faced her brother. “Get over it. We’re all adults here, and you know nothing even remotely immoral has happened. It won’t either.”
“That’s not my problem.”
“Then what is?”
Basir rose from his seat and cradled the kitten to his chest. “I am not worthy of you.”
“That’s not my problem, either,” Ryan said.
“So, what is your problem?” Meghan crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.
“You’re my sister, and he’s my best friend. The thought of you guys together...just, no.”
She rolled her eyes and blew out an exasperated breath. “Grow up, Ryan. We’re not in middle school anymore.”
“I know that!” He released a breath and headed for the hall. “I’m going out for a while.”
“Will you be here for dinner?” Meghan asked, following him as far as the kitchen doorway.
“No. I’ll be home sometime tonight, but don’t wait up for me.”
“Ryan, wait.” Basir handed Meghan the kitten and followed him out the front door.
Meghan stared after them, wondering if her brother had taken complete leave of his senses. He’d been the one to encourage her to befriend Basir. Before that, he’d practically begged her to let the man stay with them, all the while insisting she would like him. And now that she and Basir admitted to their attraction for each other, Ryan threw the grown-up version of a temper tantrum?
She shook her head and stroked the silky fur of the kitten in her hands. “I sure hope you’re a girl. Males make no sense.”
9
“Ryan, wait!” Basir jogged to where his friend was opening his car door. “We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Ryan leaned against the door and sighed. “You and my sister like each other. I get that.”
“I’m sorry.” Basir briefly closed his eyes, wishing he could go back in time and tell Ryan of his attraction long ago. “I never meant to become attracted to her. I fought it as long as I could. Forgive me for giving in rather than leaving as I should have done.”
“Wait. Why do you think you should have left?”
“Because I am not worthy of Meghan. By staying here and letting my attraction to her grow, I have harmed our friendship and your relationship with your sister.”
“No, you haven’t. Meghan and I fought all the time when we were younger, and we still argue sometimes now.” Ryan reached out and laid a hand on Basir’s shoulder. “My friendship with you hasn’t been harmed, either. I just need time to think and to adjust to what you guys have apparently realized for weeks.”
“I should st
ill leave.” Basir sighed and shook his head. “Meghan deserves a man better than me.”
“Hold on. Where are you getting the idea that you’re not worthy of her?”
“Look at me.” Basir spread his arms and then let them fall back to his sides. “I am scarred. I have permanent brain damage. My counselor tells me I have PTSD. I have to take antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication to function. On top of that, my honor was ruined long ago, my family disowned me, and I have nothing to offer your sister. I’m not worthy of any woman, let alone one as amazing as Meghan.”
“The scars, the brain damage, the PTSD, the medication...none of that stuff matters. Not to Meghan and not to me. I have enough of my own problems that I can’t possibly hold yours against you.” Ryan sucked in a breath and sighed. “As for your honor, you redeemed that through your work with us and through your good character. You are an honorable man. Maybe not by your village’s or your family’s standards, but they chose to toss you aside. Their opinions no longer count. To everyone who does count, your honor is intact and strong.”
Basir longed to believe his friend’s words, but he couldn’t do more than hope they were true. His counselor had told him that in time, he would overcome his negative self-image, but he had a long way to go. There was one concern Ryan hadn’t addressed, however. “I still have nothing to offer. Only myself, and that is broken.”
“You’re not broken. You’re changed.” Ryan straightened and combed his fingers through his hair. “Listen, I really need to get away and think. Before I go, I want you to promise me one thing...well, two things.”
“What?”
“One, promise me you won’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, like leave.”
“I promise.” Although he wasn’t sure staying was the right choice, he didn’t have anywhere else to go. “What is the second thing?”
“Treat my sister right. You are the first guy since high school she’s had a real interest in. That means a lot.” Ryan looked him straight in the eye, and Basir saw the marine he had worked with rather than the civilian he had been living with. “Don’t break her heart. If you do, you won’t want to deal with me.”
