"It's injured," she said quietly. It's what she'd been afraid of the moment Fran had told her the kitten was missing.
Emma was Fran's younger sister and had lived on the homestead with their brother Daniel until a few weeks ago, when Emma and Daniel had left for Denver. Daniel had claimed the bigger city would provide a better life for the both of them, but Breanna smelled something fishy. Both Emma and Daniel had seemed content on the ranch. Their abrupt departure was strange.
Fran had been folded into the family from the moment she'd married Edgar—under duress—but since her siblings had left, she'd been morose. She'd been caring for Emma's kitten, and Breanna had heard her say more than once that Emma would be glad of it when she came back to Bear Creek.
And now this.
Adam was silent beside her through the next fifteen minutes of tracking. Breanna found the kitten holed up in the end of a hollow log. When she reached for it, it scratched at her weakly. When her hand closed around its middle to pull it free of the log, she felt the warmth of blood.No.
It only took seconds under the lantern light to see that the kitten had been attacked by something bigger. Maybe a possum. Its stomach had been ripped open by sharp claws. Its fur was soaked with blood, and its breaths were shallow. It was near death.
She cradled it close in her lap, heedless of her best dress. She cupped its tiny head in her palm.
Adam was balanced on the balls of his feet as if he were ready to run for help. "Can it be saved?"
Twilight was falling around them.
Breanna shook her head. "Even my brother couldn't save her." Maxwell was a brilliant surgeon, but there was too much damage.
And Breanna couldn't bear to leave the animal suffering like it was.
"There's a lean-to behind my brother's house. There should be a spade inside. Would you get it? And a burlap sack. Here, take the lantern."
He hesitated then walked off, the lantern's light bobbing until it disappeared through the trees. Fran had left the light shining from the house windows, so Breanna could be reasonably sure he wouldn't get lost trying to find it.
She bent her head over the kitten, tears squeezing from closed eyes.
By the time he returned, she'd shown mercy to the animal. The kitten was suffering no longer.
She wiped her cheek with her shoulder.
"Is it—?" Adam started.
"Gone."
She took the burlap sack from him and gently wrapped the kitten inside and then accepted his help to get to her feet.
She'd been running all over this land since she was a toddler and knew there was a pretty little spot nearby where the kitten could be buried. "This way."
He followed her to a spot just back from the creek bank where two saplings had leaned together, their branches tangling and then growing in what was almost a perfect arch. The ground would be soft here. It almost formed a little chapel, or so her childish dreams had always imagined. It was perfect for their needs.
When she reached for the spade, he said, "I'll do it."
They buried the kitten together. After he'd tamped down the last swath of dirt, she blew out the lantern. Darkness enveloped them, and she was glad of it. Without the lantern, maybe she could hide her tears.
Adam would never forgetthe determined set of Breanna’s mouth as she'd held the wrapped kitten in her arms, waiting for him to dig that hole. Or the pale smudge of her face in the near-darkness as she tried to hide from him.
She was silent as they trudged side-by-side through the darkness. She was heartbroken—and trying to hide it. Over a kitten.
She helped him put away the spade, and they rounded the house. When she knocked softly on the door, it was her brother who answered. Edgar was a little older than Adam, but not much.
An angle of light fell from the open door, and Breanna stepped back slightly, her shoulder bumping into his.
She was stepping out of the light. Adam realized there must be blood on her skirt where she'd held the kitten.
"Emma's kitten was gone when we found it," she said.Gone. A soft word for what he'd witnessed tonight. "We buried it in the woods, beneath those two little arching trees."
Edgar glanced between them. Nodded. "Thank you for taking care of it. Fran would've been worried all night."
