Savannah chuckled. “He already looked deformed. He can’t look any worse now, can he?”

  “I hope not,” Margaret said.

  “Auntie, the reason I called is that Barney said we caught two cats. Want to go pick them up? We probably shouldn’t have set those traps when we decided to take the rogue in.”

  “Hey, let’s come up with a better name for that sweet cat, shall we?” Margaret suggested.

  “I agree. How about ‘Sweetie’?” Savannah said.

  “Naw—not masculine enough.”

  “Then you come up with a name,” she challenged.

  “I’m named out,” Margaret complained. “We name cats all the time and I truly draw a blank sometimes when we need to name another cat.”

  Just then Lily walked into the room.

  “Hi, Punkin,” Savannah said. “Up from your nap? Come give Mommy huggies.”

  “Who’s that?” Lily asked, pointing at the phone.

  “Oh, I’m talking to Auntie. Want to say hi?”

  Lily shook her head.

  “Huggies from Auntie, too,” Margaret said. She then suggested, “Huggy Bear. How about Huggy Bear?”

  Savannah hesitated. “You think that’s masculine?”

  “Then you pick a name.”

  “Okay, let’s call him Jack or Sam. Those are masculine names, right?”

  “Perfect. Yes, Jack it is. Hey, let’s go pick up the traps? I don’t want to leave the cats in there for too long.”

  “Sure. Come on by.”

  ****

  “Oh, good, it’s a prego cat,” Margaret said when she peered into the first trap. “We sure don’t want any more kittens born out here.”

  “This one’s a female, too,” Savannah said, referring to the cat in the second trap, “—so maybe pregnant.”

  “Nope,” Margaret said. “She has the ear clip.”

  “Oh, I didn’t notice that. Good. Well, we can have her health-checked, inoculated, and evaluated. She looks pretty calm, actually.”

  “What does that clipped ear mean?” someone asked from behind them.

  “Oh, hello,” Margaret greeted. She offered her hand. “I’m Maggie, and this is Savannah.” She tilted her head. “Are you Al, by any chance?”

  The man nodded. He gestured to one of the cats in the traps. “That’s Rainbow—the one with the nick out of her ear. What did you say it means?”

  “That she’s been spayed or he’s been neutered and returned to the wild. Rainbow, huh?” Margaret said. She looked into the trap again. “Yeah, she is kind of a rainbow of colors—lots of orange among the grey and white. Who’s this young lady?” she asked, referring to the pregnant female in the first pen.

  “Moonbeam.” Al explained, “She’s relatively new here. Someone’s pet cat, I’m pretty sure. But they’re all welcome as long as they want to be here. I’m glad you’ve come to give them better choices, though.” He added, “Someone was here in the spring to help, but they left and never came back.”

  “Don’t worry about the kitties,” Margaret said. “We’ll make sure they’re all taken care of. You seem to know them pretty well. What can you tell us about them—individually, I mean?”

  “Yes, I spend time with the cats. I’ve made friends with a few of them. Some have agreed to work over at the barn as mousers, but some of those got burned during the fire.”

  “Yes,” Savannah said. “We’re taking care of a couple with burns right now. So how long has Jack been here?”

  Al appeared confused.

  She laughed. “Oh, I think Barney called him the rogue—the one with the awful growth.”

  “Long time. The thing was smaller when he came. It looked like a small frog on his head, then it became a large toad.”

  “Well, he’s toadless as we speak,” Savannah said.

  “Huh?” Al questioned.

  “Dr. Mike and Dr. Bud removed the frog this afternoon.” Just then Savannah got a text. She smiled and cheered. “Oh good.” She turned her phone for the others to see. “Jack…er the rogue is awake and doing well. They’ll keep him sedated for a few days. He looks better even with those stitches on his head and that bent ear, don’t you think so?”

  “I barely recognize him,” Al said. “Oh, this is wonderful. I am so happy for…you say he is Jack?”

  “Yes, what do you think about the name?” Margaret asked.

  Al smiled. “It fits him now—he is no longer a rogue.”

  “We’d better get these cats to the clinic,” Savannah said.

  Margaret agreed. She started to help Savannah pick up one of the traps, then said, “Al, when you have the time, would you write down what you know about each of the cats—describe them and tell us whether it is friendly, fearful, pregnant…whatever.”

  “Sure,” he said.

  “Thank you so much for your support and help, Al,” Savannah said. She started to reach for the trap when she thought of something else. “Say, Al, Barney tells me that you were working here when Ferrell Peters went missing. Is that right?”

  Al stepped back, a shocked look on his face. “Mr. Peters? Why do you bring up his name?”

  “Well, we found some things that belonged to him yesterday, right here in this area. My cat dug them up.”

  “Here?” he asked, his voice unnaturally high-pitched.

  “Yes, we thought maybe this used to be the original dump on the property, but Barney said…”

  “No. No dump here.” He pointed. “It was close to the house.”

  “I wonder how those personal papers got over here, then,” Margaret questioned.

  Al seemed nervous. “Personal papers?” he repeated. “I don’t know. All I know is Mr. Peters left. No one knows what happened to him. Mrs. Peters got sick. She lives in a hospital…” He twirled one finger in the air, saying, “Sick in the head, you know.”

  “That’s sad,” Margaret said. “Linda Peters was a wonderful woman. She had a lot of talent. Artistic talent.”

  “Yes, she gave me one of her art pieces for my birthday. I kept it on my patio table, but it disappeared. After the flood of ninety-five I never saw it again.”

  “Do you think it was washed away?” Margaret asked.

  “No. The waters did not touch my trailer. He motioned to his left. “The river was on that side of the house then, and it took part of the house. It did not touch my trailer or the barn. It took that awful fire to destroy the barn,” he complained. He looked at the newly restored barn in progress. “But it rises. It’s a beautiful barn, isn’t it?”

  “It sure is,” Margaret said. “Listen, we need to get these cats taken care of. Thank you again, Al, for your help. We have fed the cats. We’ll stop feeding again in a few days so we can lure more cats into the traps and get them help, too.”

  “Good,” he said. “You are doing a good thing here.” He glanced around the area and warned, his eyes wide with fear. “But be careful. The cats hold a secret and it smells of death. This is not a safe place. For many years I’ve tried to find a way to move the cats.” He waved his arm and pointed. “It is safe over there. Too close to death here. So glad you are moving the cats.” When he started to choke up, he turned and walked swiftly away, leaving Margaret and Savannah speechless.

  ****

  That evening after dinner Michael slipped on a light jacket and announced, “I’m going out to work on my project.”

  “Okay, hon,” Savannah said.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asked.

  “You,” she said. “I love seeing that big grin on your face when you have a project.”

  “Like you when you’re going out to ride your horse?” he teased.

  She nodded. “Oh, speaking of the horses, would you toss them a flake of hay? I gave them fresh water earlier.”

  “Sure,” he agreed, kissing her.

  She smiled upon hearing him whistle as he left. She checked on the children, who were playing in the living room, then sat down with her phone and placed a call. “Hi, Bri. Sorry I missed you when you picked up your sweet kitty earlier. How is Frankie?”

  “Good,” she said. “I sure appreciate you and Michael taking over with him. I just didn’t know what to do or what was wrong.” Her voice sounded pinched when she added, “I was worried that he would die.”

  “Well, I’m glad you brought him to us and that Rags was able to tell us what was wrong. But then, he speaks cat language. I sure don’t—unless the cat’s using body language. Now, I understand cat body language… ‘no, I don’t want to do that,’ ‘please pet me,’ ‘I wuv you,’ ‘I’m hungry…’”

  “What are you talking about, Vannie?”

  “You mean you don’t read Frankie’s and Snowball’s body language? How in the world do you communicate with them?”

  “I don’t. I just wing it. Anyway, it’s sure good having him back to his old self.”

  “No more fish, right?” Savannah quizzed.

  “Hey, that wasn’t my fault,” Brianna insisted. “He must have dug it out of the trash. It was just a freaky accident.”

  “Cats and freaky accidents sort of go together. Their curiosity can get them into all sorts of trouble. Now you know not to leave fish with bones where it might tempt him.” When Brianna didn’t respond, Savannah said more gently, “So Frankie and Snowball are fine. How about you? How are you doing?”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Only okay? Bud sure seems to be flying high.”

  “He does?” Brianna asked surprised. “Do you think he’s seeing someone?”

  “Bud?” Savannah said, laughing. “No. Do you?”

  “I don’t know. Why would he be flying high—do you mean he seems happy?”

  “Giddy is more like it,” Savannah said.

  “Huh? Bud?”

  “Yes. You haven’t noticed that?”

  “I haven’t talked to him,” Brianna confessed. “Well, I saw him last night at Oma’s—you know, Bud’s grandmother. He said she wanted to see us together. She had something to tell us. Well, he did seem happier after hearing Oma’s message, but I don’t know why. It put me in the dumps.”

  “Why? What did she say?” Savannah asked. “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s probably none of my business.” She hesitated then said, “But I am curious. I mean, you and Bud appear to want the same thing, but there always seems to be an elephant in the room with you two. What gives?”

  Brianna remained quiet. Finally she said, “I love Bud, and I want a life with him. I just don’t know if it’s to be. I mean, I have all these reservations. I’m not sure I can do the wife thing. Then Oma drops that bombshell. I absolutely believe in what Oma stands for, and I’ve rarely known her to be wrong. As you may know, we’ve spent a lot of time together, and she’s taught me a lot about the spiritual world. So when she told us what she knows about us as a couple, I realized that my relationship with Bud is probably over.”

  “Oh, my gosh. That had to hurt.” Savannah said. “What did she say?”

  “Well, I don’t recall the exact words, but it was something like, “It is time to shut doors and open windows. She also said, ‘I see the two of you following different paths together.’”

  “And you took that to mean…?”

  Brianna said, “That we’re going our separate ways. That it is not meant to be for us. The doors are closing.”

  “That’s what you got out of it?” Before Brianna could respond, Savannah said, “Oh, hey, Michael wants me to help him with something. Listen, I want you to think more about what Oma said. I’m not sure you and Bud heard the same message. Maybe get together with her and ask her point-blank what she meant. Have her interpret it for you. Gotta go. Hugs.”

  “Who were you talking to?” Michael asked, leading her out into the yard. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Bri. What do you need?”

  “I want you to help me decide how high to make the ceiling in this thing. Should we make it so we can go in and play with the kids, or just to accommodate them?”

  Savannah thought for a moment before suggesting, “I’d say make it about five or six feet. We don’t want it so small that Adam can’t play in there with the little kids, and we should be able to go inside fairly comfortably to fix things or to have lunch with the kids or something.”

  “Sounds good.” He used his tape and marked a couple of boards. “So how’s Bri? Is she as over the rainbow as Bud is?”

  Savannah laughed. “So you’ve noticed Bud’s unusually cheerful mood, have you?”

  “Yes, he’s driving us all crazy with his jokes and pranks.”

  “Pranks? Bud?”

  “Yes. Is Bri acting like that?”

  Savannah sighed. “I’m afraid not. She’s kind of upset by what Oma told them.”

  “Oma?” he questioned. “Oh, you mean Bud’s grandmother…the psychic, or whatever she is?”

  Savannah nodded. She tilted her head. “I guess Bud interpreted what she said much differently than Brianna did.”

  “They’d better have another talk with Oma to clarify the message,” Michael offered.

  “That’s what I suggested to Brianna, but after thinking about it, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Seers such as Oma are masters at talking around the bush.”

  “Huh?” “You know, speaking in vague terms. Yeah, I can see how two people could walk away with two different interpretations. Bud heard what he wanted to or expected to hear, and so did Brianna.” She watched Michael measure and mark a couple more pieces of lumber, then said, “I think I’ll call Rochelle and find out what she sees or thinks or whatever.”

  “Savannah,” he warned. When she looked quizzically at him he said, “I wouldn’t meddle if I were you. Let them work it out.”

  ****

  “Hi, Rochelle,” Savannah said into the phone the following morning. “How are you guys?”

  “Wonderful,” Rochelle said. “Loving our new home. Our businesses are doing well. We’re happy.”

  “Glad to hear it. By the way I want to order a couple pieces of your jewelry as Christmas gifts. Do you have a catalog?”

  “Sure; a brochure. I can send it to you. Or,” she said, “we can meet in Frisco soon and you can pick something out.”

  “I’d love that.”

  “So how are you after your long vacation—all snuggled back in?” Rochelle asked.

  “Yes, we’re great. I ran a horse stable for a few months—almost two months.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” Savannah explained, “our friends, Bonnie and Barney, had a fire at their stables and needed a place to board the horses.”

  “Where did you put extra horses? As I recall, you have room for only two of them.”

  “They brought in portable corrals. We had eight horses total. It was kind of nice, but a lot of work and worry. It did take a toll on our yard.”

  “I can imagine,” Rochelle said.

  With renewed energy, Savannah added, “So now we’re re-landscaping, and I think that’s going to be fun. Michael’s building the kids a playhouse.”

  “How cool. And the kids are healthy, and your mom?”

  “Yes, we’re blessed, Rochelle. Only…”

  “Uh-oh. Only what? What’s wrong, Savannah?”

  “It’s my sister. She and Bud have split up again and they got a message from Bud’s grandmother, who’s a seer or psychic or something, and the two of them seem to have taken it differently. Now Bud’s super happy and Brianna’s super sad.”

  “Oh?”

  “I was wondering if you can sense anything about those two together or maybe not together.”

  Rochelle hesitated. “Is this for you, Savannah or for them?” Caught off guard, she stammered, “Well…um…I, I mean…”

  Rochelle laughed. “Of course you’re concerned for your sister and your friend. You care about them. But nothing you can do will change their course. That’s up to them and, maybe, the universe.”

  “Yeah,” Savannah grumbled, “that’s kind of what Michael’s been telling me, but…”

  “No buts, Savannah. Stay out of it. Let them work through it on their own, unless they ask for your help, of course.”

  “If Brianna would like to talk to me, I’d be happy to speak with her. You can give her my number if you’d like.”

  “Okay. I appreciate that.”

  Rochelle paused, then said, “By the way, I think each of them have things to work out personally before they can come together successfully.”

  “Oh, is that what you see? Is that the message you get?”

  Rochelle laughed. “That’s true for all of us. A successful relationship consists of two wholes. It can’t and won’t work any other way. Brianna and Bud will know when they’re ready to dive back in, so to speak. It sounds like one of them might be ready now…or he thinks he’s ready. She may have more work to do. But yes, have her or him or both of them call me if they’d like to talk. I’ll be happy to speak with them.”

  “Thank you, Rochelle.” Her demeanor brightened. “Hey, let’s start thinking about a date for our pre-holiday lunch.”

  “Very definitely. Good to talk to you. Give your family my best.”

  “Thanks. Hugs to you and Peter.” After ending the call, Savannah sat down on the floor next to Teddy and helped him stack some blocks.

  “Stop it,” Lily said when her baby brother threw a block that landed on the doll she was playing with.

  Savannah laughed. She picked up the baby and placed him on the opposite side of the blocks to keep Lily out of his line of fire. However, Teddy picked up a block, crawled to where Lily was playing, dropped it into her lap, then sat back and laughed.

  “Stop it!” Lily shouted. “Mommy, make him stop it. I’m feeding my baby.”

  When Savannah realized that Lily was trying to pour milk into her doll’s mouth from a small tea cup, she yelped, “No!” Lily jumped and dropped the cup, spilling the milk all over the doll, her lap, and the floor. She began to cry.

  “It’s okay, honey,” Savannah said, blotting the spill with a doll blanket. Lily scrambled to her feet and more milk poured from her skirt. She stepped back and began to whine. While Savannah dabbed at Lily’s clothes, Teddy crawled through the spill. He stopped in midstream, patted the puddle, and laughed. Savannah quickly picked him up and began wiping him down.