Rescuing Christmas: Holiday Haven / Home for Christmas / A Puppy for Will. Kathie DeNosky
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She wanted to blame Rose, who had woven fantasies all week long about how Ben could be her Prince Charming.
But she was a grown woman of twenty-eight who shouldn’t allow anyone to plant ideas in her head. And they’d both been wrong about Ben. He could be the most desirable man in the world, but if he didn’t want to share his life with companion animals, he was not the guy for her.
Animals were her life, had been ever since she was a little girl. Although it might sound corny, she felt that she had a calling to love and protect them. The concept of euthanizing those deemed unadoptable was blasphemy to her, which dictated that she had to work for a no-kill shelter.
Rose’s instincts and that wonderful film clip to the contrary, Ben wasn’t willing to offer his home to an animal, and he wouldn’t reveal why. She couldn’t imagine having a close friendship, let alone a romantic relationship, with someone who had that attitude.
She had to write him off as her prince and quit daydreaming. He was here to do a job, and once he had, she’d put him totally out of her mind.
“All the photo ops will be in the buildings out back,” she said. “Let me get my coat, and I’ll show you the—whoops, hello, Max.” She turned to greet the orange tabby that appeared unexpectedly, hopping up from behind the counter. “I’m surprised you made an appearance, kitty-cat.”
Max sat on the tan Formica, tail curled around his haunches as he fastened his green-eyed gaze on Ben.
“Max is our office cat,” Tansy explained. “Most people think that’s funny because office cats are supposed to be friendly and Max certainly isn’t. He takes aloofness to a whole new level. If I were to try and pet him now, he’d probably walk away. He’s never checked out a visitor, either.”
A soft rumble came from Max’s chest.
Tansy stared at the cat, who continued to focus on Ben. “Now you’re purring? What’s up with that?” She looked over at Ben. “Max hardly ever purrs.”
“Maybe I remind him of somebody he used to know.”
“I suppose that’s possible. He was a stray, so we don’t know his story. Since he’s both standoffish and neurotic, it’s unlikely he’ll be adopted, so we’ve designated him as our unfriendly office cat.”
“What’s neurotic about him?”
“When he’s stressed, he’ll chase his tail and chew on it. Sometimes we have to bandage it and make him wear the cone of shame so he won’t chew the bandage.” Tansy shook her head and sighed. “But I love him, anyway.”
“That’s why you’re good at your job. You probably have something you love about every dog and cat in the place.”
“I do. They’re each special in their own way, even curmudgeons like Max.” She consulted the clock hanging on the wall. “But enough about that. We’d better get moving if we’re going to have any time at all for you to take pictures this morning.”
“And I want to make sure I get them before the morning naps start.”
“Good thought. Let me get my coat and we’ll be off.”
So he knows animals tend to grab a midmorning nap. She thought about that as she walked around to her desk and picked up the dark blue parka she’d draped over the back of her chair. He might not want animals in his house, but he was familiar with their habits.
She shoved her arms into the sleeves of her coat and glanced down as she fumbled with the zipper. When she had it engaged, she raised her head, intending to tell Ben to follow her down the back hallway to the rear door.
Her breath caught. He stood at the counter scratching behind Max’s ears. Nobody scratched behind Max’s ears. He never allowed it.
But the cat was relishing the attention now, and Ben was a natural at giving that attention. Tansy could tell when someone wasn’t used to interacting with animals—their movements were hesitant and awkward. Ben might not have any animals now, but he’d been close to at least one cat in the past, a cat he’d loved. Maybe she shouldn’t put much stock in that, but…she did.
Turning away so Ben wouldn’t catch her staring, she zipped her parka in one noisy motion. By the time she finished, he’d moved away from the counter and Max, who still seemed mesmerized by the man in the sheepskin coat and cowboy hat. Now she was really curious about what had happened to Ben that kept him from wanting pets. If she kept her eyes, ears and even her heart open, she might be able to find out.
Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze. “Ready to explore The Haven?”
“Lead the way.”
“We’ll visit the cats first.” She’d thought maybe Ewok and Wookie would touch him the most, but perhaps not. If he could warm up to Max, then he’d be a sucker for the sweethearts he was about to meet.
IN THE GRAY LIGHT OF DAWN, Ben followed Tansy out the back door of the house to the lighted buildings behind it. He hoped she hadn’t noticed him petting Max, because she might read too much into it. He should have resisted the impulse.
But Tansy’s comment that Max wouldn’t let anyone pet him had been a challenge. He’d wanted to test that, especially because Max had looked at him exactly the way his childhood cat, Mickey, used to, with a silent plea for attention.
Mickey had only been able to make that plea with one eye instead of two because he’d lost the right one in a fight. Ben later learned that male cats should be neutered so they wouldn’t fight or breed. But as a kid he hadn’t known that, and his aunt and uncle certainly wouldn’t have wanted the expense of a vet bill.
So he’d allowed Mickey to roam the streets of whatever town they moved to in their vagabond life. Max looked so much like Mickey that if Ben believed in kitty reincarnation, he’d wonder if Mickey had somehow come back in the body of this cat. With his eye repaired.
Didn’t really matter if he had, though. Mickey’s life had been cut short by a car. He’d been ten—not so bad, actually, for a cat, especially an outdoor one. Ben had heard of indoor cats like Max making it past twenty, or even twenty-five, but that still wasn’t long enough to suit Ben. He wasn’t into long-lived animals like parrots or tortoises, so he was better off staying out of the game.
Scratching behind Max’s ears had felt achingly familiar, though. This gig was already testing his resolve not to form attachments. But petting one orange tabby wasn’t the same as forming an attachment, he told himself. It changed nothing.
A light snow the night before had turned to slush, but someone had shoveled the lighted walkway that led from the back of the house to a couple of octagonal buildings. A signpost pointed left to the larger one, christened the Doggie Digs, and to the right for the smaller octagon named the Kitty Condo. Beyond that stood a boxy portable building that must be where the cats from the hoarder were being kept.
The signs designating the cat and dog areas were cute but unnecessary. A chorus of barks from the larger octagon would have clued him in.
“It’s feeding time.” Tansy paused and glanced toward the Doggie Digs. “One of the high points of their day, obviously.”
“I’m partial to a good meal, myself.”
She graced him with one of her million-dollar smiles. “Me, too.”
And here he was, once again gazing at her expressive face and wishing…what? That he could figure out some stupid reason to spend more time with her? So he could become dependent on that smile for his happiness? No way.
“I should buy you lunch sometime, to thank you for doing this,” she said.
“That’s a generous offer.” Was she asking him out? If she was as interested in him as he was in her, it would be hard to keep her at arm’s length. “But I hope you don’t think I volunteered my time for this. The station’s paying me.”
“Well, sure, I thought