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“Shh. Let’s find him first before we freak out. Come on.” Jonathan led the way deeper into the trees.

It had grown chilly, and Phoebe’s teeth chattered as she hurried through dead leaves and fallen branches to keep up with him. They followed the sad little mews until it sounded like Mittens was close by.

“He must be right around here,” Phoebe whispered.

She scanned her light along the forest floor while Jonathan searched higher.

“There he is!” Jonathan kept his voice low so he wouldn’t startle the cat.

“Where?” Phoebe hurried to his side, and he raised an arm to point at an upper tree branch. There was Mittens, his two huge eyes glowing scared in the darkness amid his fur ball of a body.

“He’s stuck in a tree? I thought that only happened on TV.”

Jonathan gazed at the cat. “How long have you been up there, little buddy?”

“And how are we going to get you down?”

Jonathan handed Phoebe his phone. “Hold the light up for me. I’ll get him.”

Despite the dire situation, Phoebe felt a flare of heat at his confidence. Well, okay, then.

She held the light of one phone at the base of the tree and pointed the other up toward Mittens, who continued to meow sadly.

Jonathan almost effortlessly pulled himself up onto a thick lower branch. He then stood on it, swaying as he caught his balance.

“Careful!” Phoebe breathed.

He balanced on the branch and reached both arms up toward the cat.

“Shoot.” They realized at the same time that he couldn’t quite reach from his current perch. Phoebe held her breath as he climbed up onto the next, slightly smaller branch. She briefly imagined what would happen if the branch snapped beneath him. He wasn’t too far off the ground, but he might have some cuts that she would need to tend to…

What is wrong with you? she mentally chided herself.

Jonathan didn’t try standing on this branch. Instead, he sat on it and carefully raised himself up on one knee to reach for Mittens. “If we fall, make sure you chase after this guy before he runs away again.”

“If you—what?”

But a moment later, Jonathan had the cat tightly wrapped in one arm as he carefully lowered himself back onto the first branch. “Can you take him?”

“What? No, I don’t—I’m not a cat person.”

“Phoebe.”

“Okay, okay.” Phoebe reached up and took Mittens from Jonathan’s hands. The cat gratefully nestled against her chest. He must have been really scared, Phoebe realized.

Jonathan hopped lightly down from the tree, dusted himself off, and picked up his phone. He led the way back to Flamingo Cottage. Mittens didn’t even try to jump out of Phoebe’s arms until they reached Arden’s patio, and then he freed himself and scampered inside through his cat door.

“Thank God,” Phoebe breathed. She let them into the house and made sure Mittens’s food and water bowls were full. When the cat was happily lapping at his wet food, she turned to Jonathan. “And thank you.”

He filled himself a glass of water from the kitchen sink, downed it, and then said, “I thought you were joking.”

“Joking?” Phoebe realized she was parched and got herself a glass of water, too.

“I mean, I thought you were using that as an excuse to get me to come back. Help, I can’t find the cat anywhere.” He used a shrill, panicked voice that made Phoebe laugh.

“And you thought I wanted you to come back because…” Phoebe leaned one hip against the counter.

At this probing, Jonathan’s defenses seemed to come back up. He set his glass down on the counter and frowned. “I don’t know. You made things pretty clear before.”