knife, he popped it open, barely aware of Kennedy's gasp of alarm. He sliced both sacks open, the one that was still wriggling first, then the one that wasn't.
"Here." Kennedy helped the wriggling kitten out of the sack in front of the mother.
Luke marveled for a moment that she wasn't squeamish, then went to work on the other kitten, rubbing its little chest, but it was too late. Meanwhile, the mother cat watched him with half-lidded eyes as she pushed out another baby. This time he watched as she twisted to look at her kitten, then ripped the sack with her own teeth. Kennedy placed the living kitten near the mother's belly and let it find its way to a nipple. Its sibling joined it.
"Keep an eye on her," Luke said, handing over the knife. "I'm going to see if I can find a box. This is the only quilt I've got."
***
When he returned with a box that he'd brought out a couple of weeks ago, loaded with groceries and a little gnawed at the corners, Kennedy was kneeling on the bed, straightening a towel beneath the mother cat. He didn't want to know how she'd managed that. Another kitten had joined its siblings and was nursing greedily.
"She opened the last one on her own," Kennedy said, handing him back his knife. "Thank goodness."
He chuckled and tucked the knife in his pocket. "I'm going to let you get her into the box, since you had luck already getting that towel under her."
She scowled, then removed the kittens from their mother's nipples, eliciting all kinds of kitty chaos as the kittens mewled and the mama hissed. Kennedy expertly lifted Mama Kitty with the towel and placed her towel and all into the box. Then she quickly scooped up the kittens and returned them to the comfort of their mother. Luke carried the box toward the door, but Kennedy stopped him.
"Just leave it there."
"Kennedy, she's a barn cat. She'll be fine outside."
"What if she needs our help?"
"Kennedy." But the look on her face stopped him, and he set the box by the door with a sigh. "If she gets back on my bed..."
She looked toward the bed. "We should probably get that to a laundromat. There is one in town, isn't there?"
His turn to scowl. He hadn't wanted to spend any time away from the property. So much needed to be done. "I suppose. We'll eat lunch there, too."
As she unmade the bed and carefully folded up the quilt, he watched.
"I don't remember you being so soft-hearted."
"I wasn't," she said quietly, and turned to him with the quilt folded in her arms. "Do you want to go now?"
He cursed himself for talking without thinking. He knew just what made her soft-hearted, the same thing that made him hard-hearted to her. If she'd just let him know, he could have been there for her and they could have gone through her father's illness together. Why couldn't she see that?
But it was too late now. The past was the past, and he needed to get over it or send her on her way.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The trip to the laundromat and lunch ended up stretching to a trip to the local big box store, where Luke spent more money than he'd planned, buying wet cat food and new towels, a couple of lamps and a sun tea jar Kennedy liked. All that meant he got back to the farm late in the afternoon, losing the best part of another day of work. He dropped Kennedy off at the house with the clean quilt and bags of cat food for a barn cat, for crying out loud, then headed for his tractor.
When he came in, it was almost dinner time, and shadows stretched through the house. He'd only stayed in the house this past weekend, but the lighting seemed familiar somehow. He turned on the lamp in the kitchen and headed through the quiet house to the bedroom.
Kennedy was curled on her side facing the door, the mama cat and four kittens on the bed with her. Mama Kitty lifted her head when Luke entered and blinked drowsily. Luke could hear her purring from the doorway.
Kennedy, on the other hand, was asleep. Luke crossed the room, picking up the box on the way. He
"Here." Kennedy helped the wriggling kitten out of the sack in front of the mother.
Luke marveled for a moment that she wasn't squeamish, then went to work on the other kitten, rubbing its little chest, but it was too late. Meanwhile, the mother cat watched him with half-lidded eyes as she pushed out another baby. This time he watched as she twisted to look at her kitten, then ripped the sack with her own teeth. Kennedy placed the living kitten near the mother's belly and let it find its way to a nipple. Its sibling joined it.
"Keep an eye on her," Luke said, handing over the knife. "I'm going to see if I can find a box. This is the only quilt I've got."
***
When he returned with a box that he'd brought out a couple of weeks ago, loaded with groceries and a little gnawed at the corners, Kennedy was kneeling on the bed, straightening a towel beneath the mother cat. He didn't want to know how she'd managed that. Another kitten had joined its siblings and was nursing greedily.
"She opened the last one on her own," Kennedy said, handing him back his knife. "Thank goodness."
He chuckled and tucked the knife in his pocket. "I'm going to let you get her into the box, since you had luck already getting that towel under her."
She scowled, then removed the kittens from their mother's nipples, eliciting all kinds of kitty chaos as the kittens mewled and the mama hissed. Kennedy expertly lifted Mama Kitty with the towel and placed her towel and all into the box. Then she quickly scooped up the kittens and returned them to the comfort of their mother. Luke carried the box toward the door, but Kennedy stopped him.
"Just leave it there."
"Kennedy, she's a barn cat. She'll be fine outside."
"What if she needs our help?"
"Kennedy." But the look on her face stopped him, and he set the box by the door with a sigh. "If she gets back on my bed..."
She looked toward the bed. "We should probably get that to a laundromat. There is one in town, isn't there?"
His turn to scowl. He hadn't wanted to spend any time away from the property. So much needed to be done. "I suppose. We'll eat lunch there, too."
As she unmade the bed and carefully folded up the quilt, he watched.
"I don't remember you being so soft-hearted."
"I wasn't," she said quietly, and turned to him with the quilt folded in her arms. "Do you want to go now?"
He cursed himself for talking without thinking. He knew just what made her soft-hearted, the same thing that made him hard-hearted to her. If she'd just let him know, he could have been there for her and they could have gone through her father's illness together. Why couldn't she see that?
But it was too late now. The past was the past, and he needed to get over it or send her on her way.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The trip to the laundromat and lunch ended up stretching to a trip to the local big box store, where Luke spent more money than he'd planned, buying wet cat food and new towels, a couple of lamps and a sun tea jar Kennedy liked. All that meant he got back to the farm late in the afternoon, losing the best part of another day of work. He dropped Kennedy off at the house with the clean quilt and bags of cat food for a barn cat, for crying out loud, then headed for his tractor.
When he came in, it was almost dinner time, and shadows stretched through the house. He'd only stayed in the house this past weekend, but the lighting seemed familiar somehow. He turned on the lamp in the kitchen and headed through the quiet house to the bedroom.
Kennedy was curled on her side facing the door, the mama cat and four kittens on the bed with her. Mama Kitty lifted her head when Luke entered and blinked drowsily. Luke could hear her purring from the doorway.
Kennedy, on the other hand, was asleep. Luke crossed the room, picking up the box on the way. He
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