She tried to bite me and, when that failed, snagged a claw into the heel of my hand.
Fuckingouch.
“Now we’re both bleeding,” I told her. “So we’re even, right?”
She hissed at me, ears flat, and swiped at my hand again and missed.
I didn’t even need to examine her properly to know that the cat wasn’t going to make it. Her gums were almost white, there was a jagged bone sticking out through the skin of her broken leg, and she had blood coming out of one ear. Her sides heaved as she struggled for breath, still making those low growling noises.
I whispered, “I’m sorry, Mama,” before I administered a dose of sedatives big enough to send her on her way.
She didn’t go peacefully.
I was still stroking Mama Cat’s head, long past the point where she was gone, when I heard the familiar squeak of sneakers on the linoleum floor.
Shit. Cash.
“Hey,” I called out. “Don’t come in?—”
Too late. He was already standing frozen in the doorway, coffees in his hand, eyes wide as he took in the scene. The blood-smeared table. The wads of bloody dressings. The syringe and bottle of sedatives. And of course, the dead cat, her eyes half closed and her mouth hanging open.
“She got hit by a car,” I said before he could ask. “I couldn’t save her.” I hated how my voice cracked. “If you want to go wait for me, I’ll clean up here.”
But Cash was already stepping inside.
“Are you okay?” He set the coffees down on the counter and moved to the table, eyes widening even farther as he looked inside the box. He blinked down at the kittens. “She had babies? Are they hurt?”
“I think it’s her blood,” I said. “I haven’t had the chance to check them over yet.”
He nodded and said, “What do you need me to do?”
Dog whined loudly from the laundry room. “You wanna let Dog out for me, then come back here?”
Cash nodded and ducked out the door, and while he was gone, I wrapped the cat’s body in the bloodied blanket and put it in a black body disposal bag to deal with later. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, reminding myself that there wasn’t anything I could have done. Then I turned my attention to the three kittens. Those were lives Icouldsave.
Cash came back into the treatment room just as I was lifting the first kitten out of the box.
The kitten—a tiny black and white female—squeaked far too loudly for such a tiny thing when I lifted her out of the box. I ran my hands over her body, checking for injuries and assessing her general condition. “She’s in good health,” I said, more to myself than Cash. “Maybe three weeks, so old enough to hand rear.”
I wiped her down and went to put her back in the box but Cash said, “I can take her?”
“Sure,” I said, and I gave him the kitten. He immediately scooped her against his chest and started making soothing noises, stroking a fingertip down her spine. He gave a pleased smile when she started purring.
I smiled back and checked out and cleaned up the other two kittens. They were both boys—one black like his sister and the other one mostly black except for a dramatic orange stripe across half his face that made him look like an eighties rock star—and I handed them over one at a time. Cash got to cradle all three of them in his arms for a minute before I said, “Okay, put them in the box.”
His head shot up and his brow creased, his grip tightening like he thought I was going to take the kittens away. “Why?”
“The guy who dropped them off said there’s another one that he couldn’t find, so I’m going to look. I could use an extra pair of eyes, if you’re up for it?”
Cash’s eyes widened. He peered in the box and said, “They need a towel or something.”
He wasn’t wrong. I grabbed an old towel and lined the box with it, and Cash inspected my handiwork and bundled the kittens inside. They squirmed and twisted until they found each other and then it went quiet as they settled, curling up in a pile. I draped another towel over the top of the box and we left the treatment room.
“Let me get dressed,” I said.
Cash nodded and went to wait on the porch. By the time I came downstairs, he was pacing, nervous energy radiating off him, and I knew he was worrying about the missing kitten. He wasn’t the only one, and I prayed the cat was still alive. I wasn’t sure I could take it if we got there and found a coyote or a hawk had attacked it.
It wasn’t until I was in my car with Cash buckling himself into the passenger seat that I realized I had no idea where I was going. “The guy said it was at the bend right before the old bridge,” I said. “I really hope you know where that is.”
