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    Eyes of the Cat

    Page 29
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      “A nice thought, but impossible. There’ve been no cats at the castle since his time. Most of the clan has a superstitious fear of them. Although I’ve been trying to dispel that fear. I’d like to import some cats to take care of the rats and mice. You may have noticed we’ve a wee bit of a rodent problem here.”

      “No! Really?”

      Sudden laughter poured out of her—a better release than the tears she’d been holding at bay—more cleansing than rain. The sound of it was so infectious, it swept Alan straight into its stream, until they were both laughing so hard they lost their balance and fell forward in each others arms, accidentally springing the lock on the chest and jarring its lid back.

      The laughter stopped.

      “Oh no… It can’t be. Someone must have put it here while we were seeing Captain Elliott off.”

      “A possibility, I suppose.” Alan stared with her into the center of the box. “Who, though? There’s been no one out tonight but us. I doubt anyone else even knows this wall has been opened. The hole’s not been here a half-hour yet. And before that…”

      “Before that, this chest was sealed in six feet of rock hard adobe.”

      “Aye. For nigh on fifty years.”

      “It does give one cause for pause, doesn’t it?” She reached in and gingerly removed the object they’d been staring at.

      “Who was the last person who had it? Your father?”

      “No… It was me.” The tears that hadn’t come before began to land in hot splashes on her open palm, clinging like dewdrops to what lay there. “It fell out of my dress in the courtyard, and…”

      “And Elspeth’s cat retrieved it. To bring help for her granddaughter, as he’d once brought help for her. I know. Because he was still holding it in his mouth when he came to the great hall to fetch me.” Alan took the key from her hand and returned it, tears and all, to the ashes in the chest. “Let’s give it back to him, shall we? That way, if anyone needs help in the future, he’ll have it handy.”

      “Aye,” Tabitha said, smiling at him through her tears and realizing that Jeremy had almost been right. Children did inherit, it seemed. But not their parents’ sins. Elspeth’s stubborn kindness, her unshakable insistence on nursing those in need, on carrying light into the dark—and the Panther’s sacrifice in response—had stirred something that had stretched beyond the grave to bless and protect their descendants.

      “But let’s not seal this back into the wall.” Carefully, she lowered the small casket’s lid and refastened its lock. “They should be in a decent grave from now on, with a proper marker, don’t you think?”

      “The way I’m feeling, dear, I’d like to build them a shrine with marble pillars.”

      “They might find that a bit ostentatious. A small statue might be nice, though. One of a cat, perhaps? That would work for either the Panther or Caliban, wouldn’t it?”

      “Only if we put wings on it.” He smiled, pulling both of them to their feet and leading her into the inner court toward the keep. “You weren’t that far wrong, you know. You told me he was no demon, but an angel. That may be the truest thing you’ve ever said.”

      “You think so, do you?” Her thoughts turned to some unfinished business as, hand in hand, they navigated the moonlit yard. “Well, I know something even truer I could tell you.”

      “And what’s that, dear?”

      “I’ll give you three guesses. One for each word.”

      It jerked him to a halt just short of the ramp.

      “Three words, hmm? But what if I don’t want to guess?” His eyes smoldered down at her, like two glowing embers. “What if I just want to hear you say those words?”

      “And what if I change my mind and decide not to say them, after all?” She gazed provocatively back at him.

      “In that case, I’ll probably be forced to carry you to bed and ravish you within an inch of your life.”

      “We’ve an interesting predicament, then. Because I could take that as an inducement to keep my mouth closed.”

      “By God, you’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

      “Still, just to keep things fair, what’s the alternative? What will you do if I do say them?”

      “Definitely carry you to bed and ravish you within an inch of your life.”

      “Well then, I really can’t see that I’ve much of a choice, have I?”

      “None at all.” He swung her high against his chest and strode up the ramp.

      “Good.” She grinned, winding her arms about his neck. “Because I do love you, Alan MacAllister. Long after the rest of creation is a burned out cinder, my love for you will still be here, shining out like a star.”

      “’Twill be a double star, Tabitha Tilda, for I’ll be shining right beside you. But that was more than three words, you know.”

      “I know. I threw in the others as a bonus. Do I get anything extra for them?”

      “Aye. I’ll kiss you breathless on the way to our room,” he promised, covering her mouth with his as he shouldered open the door to the keep.

      “Mmm…” she said, thinking how everything that had once seemed so queer and sinister suddenly felt so divinely sensible and right. And how mistaken her father had been when he’d told her that marriage wasn’t like math, that there were no formulas she could use to make it come out correctly.

      This was the simplest equation, in fact, that she had ever solved. Just take one plus one passionately beating heart, subtract all doubts and fears, multiply by an open awareness and acceptance of soul shattering love, and your end product could be none other than a glistening adobe Heaven-on-Earth.

      I wonder when Leslie’s schooner returns to San Francisco. I’d like to send Gabrina a big thank you for making me wear her tartans. She’s the sort of girl who’d appreciate a nice gift. And I just happen to know of a lovely French trousseau that ought to suit her perfectly…

      “Tabitha? Your knee is hopping like a Mexican jumping bean. What is that brain of yours up to now?”

      “I was just thinking what a wonderful castle this is, and how wonderfully much I adore you. And if I can still talk, I’m not breathless yet. So you’d better kiss me some more.”

      “If you insist.” And he matched the action to the phrase.

      While nearby, in the flickering shadows, an angel sat watching, blinking golden eyes and grinning like a cat.

      ==============

      <><><>

      About the author…

      Mimi Riser is a best-selling, award-winning author of fiction and nonfiction. Her books celebrate the upbeat and the offbeat, and “happy endings” are her specialty. She began life in the urban northeast, but now resides in the rural southwest with one husband, two dogs, and more cats than anyone wants to know about.

      http://www.mimiriser.com

      ALSO BY MIMI RISER:

      Novels

      Every Jack Needs His Jil

      Sherwood Charade

      Space Rats and Rebels

      Short Stories

      If Wishes Were Kisses

      The Great Race

      Joy to the Worlds

      Nonfiction

      The Kitchen Witch Glossary of Cooking Herbs & Spices

      The Kitchen Witch Guide to the Timeless Art of Herbal Tea

      Spice Up Your Love Life! Aphrodisiacs from the Kitchen

      The Naughty Girl’s Guide to Divining by the Dots

      The Kitchen Witch Yuletide Book

      The Kitchen Witch Halloween Book

      Wonderful Weird True Tales

      Erotic Romance

      Cymric’s Rose

      Samantha White & The Seven Dwarves

      Dungeons & Dirty Dreams

      Romeo’s Revenge

      Tina Takes a Tumble

      Saving Sally Savoy

      A Knight to Remember

      Just Another Lonely Knight

      In the Heat of the Knight

      The Adventures of Cassie Nova

      The Cowboys & The Courtesan

      Wicked Comes the Beast

      Playing Pirat
    es

      Pirates Do It With Passion

      The Sylver & Steele Series

      Anthology

      Romance: Fantasy, Food, and Fortune Telling

      Paperback Anthologies

      My Knightly Adventures

      Return to the Burn

      Can’t Fight the Feeling

      Pirates & Other Wicked Pleasures

      =======

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