The Good Ones Read online

  “I don’t want to leave it out here,” Perry said. “What if an owl sees it and swoops down and snatches it?”

  Ryder studied the porch roof. “There is no guarantee but I think it’ll be okay for a little while.”

  They quietly left the porch, stationing themselves in the foyer, where they could look out the long windows on each side of the front door and watch the kitten. It didn’t move. It stayed curled up in a little ball of misery. Maisy felt her heart hurt a little bit more as each minute ticked by with no sign of its mother.

  “How much longer, Daddy?” Perry asked after fifteen minutes.

  Ryder patted his daughter on the shoulder. “Hang tough, kid.”

  “Supposing the mama doesn’t come back,” Savannah said. “What are we going to do with such a wee kitten?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Perry volunteered.

  “You have school,” Ryder said. “And I’ll be working here. Pretty sure a kitten can’t go that long without food.”

  “Does Hannah still work at the animal clinic here in town?” Savannah asked Maisy.

  “No, she owns her own practice now,” Maisy said. “In fact, she’s in the gray house at the end of Willow Lane.”

  “Wow, good for her. We should call her.” Savy held out her hand for Perry’s phone and without hesitation the teen put it in her palm.

  “You’re right, she’ll know what to do,” Maisy said. “The name of her practice is the Fairdale Animal Center.”

  Savannah typed the name of the clinic into the browser on Perry’s phone and then hit call when a match came up. She put the phone on speaker so they could all hear what Hannah said. Savy got the clinic’s voice mail but when she pressed the number stating it was an emergency, she was patched through to Hannah’s cell phone.

  Hannah answered on the fourth ring. “Dr. Phillips—ah—what’s your—uh—emergency?”

  She sounded breathless, and Savannah’s eyes went wide. She glanced at Maisy, who gestured for her to go on.

  “Hey, Hannah, it’s Savannah Wilson from Fairdale U. I don’t know if you remember me—”

  “Uh, yes, right there, ah—” Hannah grunted.

  Savannah dropped the phone. Ryder clapped his hands over Perry’s ears and Maisy scrambled to pick up the phone before they heard any more.

  “Hi, Hannah, it’s Maisy. Looks like we caught you at a bad time. We’ll call back—”

  She was about to hit end when Hannah’s voice sounded, “Ugh, yes, good girl. That’s how you do it. Take a break now.”

  Maisy frowned at the phone. “Hannah, just out of curiosity, what are you doing right now?”

  Ryder made bug eyes at her, and Maisy almost laughed.

  “At this exact moment, I am up to my elbows in a bovine’s birth canal,” she said. You’re lucky I have John Michael here with me to answer the phone.”

  Ryder dropped his hands from Perry’s ears and shook his head. His lips were screwed up tight as if he was trying not to laugh.

  “Hi, John Michael,” Maisy said. She glanced at Savannah, who was not even trying to hold in her snort laughs. “I hope your cow is going to be okay.”

  “Hi, Maisy,” John Michael’s deep voice came out of the phone. He was Hannah’s younger brother and owned a local dairy farm. “She will be now. The little heifer wanted to come out feet first, but I think we’ve gotten him turned around.”

  “I only have a few seconds to spare,” Hannah said. “What do you need? Oh, and hi, Savannah, sorry I can’t talk long.”

  “No problem, we’ll catch up another time,” Savannah said. Her voice sounded strained as if she was still trying not to laugh.

  “Listen, we found an abandoned kitten on our front porch,” Maisy said. “There’s no sign of the mother or any other kittens. It’s looking weak and sickly. What should we do?”

  “If you’re sure the mother isn’t coming back, you need to get it inside where it’s safe from predators and get it warm. A heating pad on low wrapped in a towel will do it. Kittens can’t regulate their own temperature for the first few weeks of life. How big is it?”

  “It’s tiny. Not much more than a handful,” Maisy said.

  “That is young, probably less than two weeks. It’ll need to be bottle-fed every two hours with kitten replacement formula. Do not use cow’s milk.”

  “Okay.” Maisy looked at Ryder and he nodded as if this seemed doable.

  “Oh, and this is important, you’ll have to help it pee and poop.”

  “What, no, really?” Maisy asked.

  “Yeah, their mom usually licks them to stimulate urination and defecation,” Hannah said.

  Ryder, Maisy, and Savannah all looked at one another. Maisy was hard pressed to decide which of them looked the most disgusted, but she was pretty sure Savannah edged her and Ryder out by a nose wrinkle.

  “I can do that,” Perry said. “I’ll take really good care of it.”

  “Who are you?” Hannah asked.

  “My name’s Perry. I found it,” she said.

  “Well, it sounds like finders keepers, Perry.” Hannah laughed, which was drowned out by a low mooing sound. “Sorry. I’ve got to go. Call me later if you have more questions.”

  “We will,” Maisy said. “Thanks.”

  “Oh, one more thing,” Hannah said. “Kittens that little don’t generally thrive. It’s going to be touch and go for a few weeks. Try not to get attached.”

  “We’ll try,” Maisy said. She knew when she glanced at Perry it was already too late.

  “All right,” Ryder said. “Let’s go out and check one more time for Mom.”

  Perry did not bother to check for the mother. She went right to the kitten and gently scooped it up. It was so tiny, it barely filled her two palms.

  “Let’s get it inside,” Maisy said. “I have a heating pad in the apartment.”

  “I’ll set up a box,” Ryder said. He went over to the stack of flattened boxes Maisy had been using to pack up Auntie El’s collection.

  “I’ll go get some kitten formula,” Savannah said.

  “What should I do?” Perry asked.

  “Follow Maisy upstairs and hold it close to your heart,” Ryder said. “Your body heat and the sound of your heartbeat should keep it calm.”

  Maisy and Perry made their way upstairs. The young girl was careful, but still Maisy spotted her in case she tripped over some books. Back in the apartment, Maisy helped Perry to sit while she grabbed a towel and the heating pad. She plugged it in and wrapped it in a towel, then she set the temperature to low and put it in Perry’s lap. Perry slowly lowered the kitten onto the towel.

  It was the first time Maisy had seen the little one in good light and the only word that came to mind was pitiful. Its eyes were barely open and a cloudy blue, its ears were folded over, and its legs didn’t look strong enough to support it, while its tail was just a sad little droop. It was mostly black fluff but its belly was pale gray and striped. Its face was white with dark-gray stripes that accentuated its eyes and mouth, and its nose was a tiny black dot. It was a thumbprint of a kitten and Hannah’s warning not to get attached rang in Maisy’s ears. Oh, boy.

  Ryder, carrying the box, entered the room. He set the box beside the couch and, with something that looked like aw, he took in the sight of his daughter cradling the tiny kitten.

  “How’s it going?” he whispered.

  “Not good.” Perry looked up at her father with tears in her eyes. “It’s going to die, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know, ladybug,” he said. “I know that if you hadn’t found it, it would have died for sure. So anything we can do for it now is more than it would have had if we’d left it on that porch. So, let’s just try. We’ll work really hard to save this little one, okay?”

  Perry nodded. A tear slipped down her cheek and dropped from her chi
n onto the dark fuzz of the kitten. She gently brushed the tear away with her fingers and Maisy felt her heart clutch. She knew without being told that if this kitten died, Perry was going to take it hard. She glanced at Ryder and knew from the grim set of his features that he was thinking the same thing.

  He sat beside his daughter on the couch and Maisy took a seat on the other side as if they could bookend her with the support she needed. Perry gave them both a tentative smile, letting them know that their presence was appreciated.

  Maisy’s phone chimed and she glanced at the lit-up display to see that it was a message from Hannah. She glanced at it and said, “Hannah sent us a website to look at for kitten care. She also sent us the name of a kitty nanny who might be able to take it.”

  “What?” Perry cried. “Give it up?”

  “We want to give the kitten its best shot,” Ryder said.

  “I’m its best shot,” Perry said.

  She pulled the furball even closer and, as if sensing they were talking about it, the kitten let out a tiny little cry. It sounded like half of a meow. Maisy thought it was the cutest thing she’d ever heard.

  “See? It’s already bonding to me,” Perry said.

  “The veterinarian said that it’s going to be touch and go,” Ryder said. “Why don’t we call the kitty nanny just to have her on deck?”

  Perry looked like she would argue, but then she glanced down at the tiny face snuggling into her and nodded. “Okay.”

  Maisy made the call. The woman had two rescues already that were a few weeks older, but she was willing to take this one if need be. She sounded a bit overwhelmed and Maisy felt bad for trying to dump another baby on her when she already had her hands full. Maisy thanked her and told her that she’d be in touch.

  They heard Savannah coming before she entered the apartment. She had several bags hanging off her arms and her wavy red hair was mussed as if she’d been caught in a strong wind and had to fight her way into the house.

  “Sorry that took so long. I had to drive all the way to Asheville. And a storm’s coming, which means everyone is panicking and no one can drive for beans.”

  She dropped the bags on the counter and then spun around and hurried back to the couch. “How is the little one?”

  “Hanging in there,” Maisy said. “But probably starving.”

  “I’ll get the formula ready,” Ryder said. “I have some experience.”

  “Wait until you see the baby bottle,” Savy said. “It looks like it’s made for a doll.”

  Ryder took it out of the bag. It looked tiny in his big callused hands. While he prepped the bottle, Maisy read from the webpage Hannah had referenced.

  “It says to start with a tablespoon and you’re supposed to warm it to room temperature and test it on your wrist.” Maisy glanced up to see Ryder shake the bottle and then dab some formula on his wrist.

  “Perfect,” he said. “Prepping a bottle is like riding a bicycle. You never forget.”

  He moved to the couch and sat beside Perry. He handed her the tiny bottle and she shook her head. “I can’t. You do it. What if I hurt it?”

  “You’re feeding it,” Ryder said. “That is the very definition of not hurting it.”

  “The website says to keep the kitten snuggled and on its belly, like it’s feeding from its mom,” Maisy said. “Oh, and keep the bottle at a forty-five-degree angle, so it doesn’t suck up too much air.” Perry gave her an exasperated look and Maisy said, “Sorry.”

  Perry gently tried to press the bottle into the kitten’s mouth. Still nothing.

  “It won’t drink,” Perry said. She looked at her father in alarm.

  “Maybe it can’t tell that there’s milk in there,” he said. “I’m betting the rubber smell of the nipple—”

  “Dad!” Perry looked at Maisy and Savannah in alarm.

  Ryder rolled his eyes. “That’s what it is. I’m supposed to call it something else?”

  “It’s just, it’s embarrassing,” Perry said. Her face was bright pink.

  “Don’t worry about us,” Savannah said. “We’re hard to offend.”

  “Okay, just squeeze the bottle until there’s a little formula on the rubber thingy,” Ryder said. “Maybe the kitten will drink when it smells the milk.”

  Perry frowned. She handed her father the bottle and he squeezed it until some of the formula was on the tip. Then he handed it back to her. Perry held it to the kitten’s mouth and this time there was a little interest.

  She squeezed the bottle some more and the kitten opened its mouth. Perry looked at her dad in wonder and he smiled. “Keep going. See if you can get a tablespoon into it.”

  Perry talked softly to the little kitten, alternately rubbing its head with her thumb while squeezing formula into its mouth. It dribbled a little here and there, but then it latched on to the tip and started sucking.

  “Aw, look at that,” Savannah cried. “Its tiny ears move while it’s drinking.”

  Maisy looked at the kitten. It was definitely the cutest thing she’d ever seen and when she saw the man hunkered over the little thing, patiently coaxing it to keep going, she was pretty sure she was going to have an ovary meltdown. Honestly, how was a woman supposed to resist such a sight?

  When the kitten let go of the bottle it was almost empty. And the little one’s eyes closed as if exhausted from the effort of drinking so much. Maisy glanced back down at her phone.

  “You’re supposed to burp it now.”

  Perry looked at her in confusion. “But it’s so little.”

  “Here, let me,” Ryder said. “I used to be able to get some solid burps out of you when you were a baby.”

  “Really, Dad,” Perry protested. “Kind of an overshare.”

  “What? It’s true,” he said. He took the kitten from her and gently patted its back. “You used to screw up your little face and belch like a truck driver.”

  Perry closed her eyes as though if she couldn’t see him then maybe he wasn’t there. But he was and as Maisy watched him gently pat the tiny little critter in his hands, she didn’t think she’d ever seen a more handsome man in her life. It should be a crime to be that good-looking and then tenderly hold a kitten. How was a woman supposed to block that image out of her mind?

  Just when she thought she couldn’t stand it anymore, a tiny little burp came out of the kitten and Ryder grinned. “I’ve still got it.”

  He handed the kitten back to his daughter. Perry snuggled it close, making sure it was warm. One look at her face and Maisy knew she was 100 percent kitten smitten.

  “Aren’t we supposed to help it go to the bathroom now?” Savannah asked. “And just so we’re clear, by we I mean you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “OH, yeah,” Maisy said. She glanced at Ryder. “How’s your skill set there?”

  “Tapped out,” he said. “My only experience was with an eight-pound being that came fully functional in that area.”

  “Dad,” Perry wailed. “Oh, my God. Stop talking, seriously.”

  “What? I was talking about my boyhood dog.” She stared at him. Ryder feigned an innocent expression. “Oh, did you think I was talking about you? I would never.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said.

  “That is, until your first boyfriend comes around and I feel compelled to tell him about the time you shoved a Tic Tac up your nose, and I had to hold your other nostril so you could blow it out,” he said. He started to laugh. “Do you remember? You pinged Dr. Campbell so hard, you cracked the lens in her glasses.”

  “And this is why I will die old and alone, untouched by a man, probably being devoured by my cats,” Perry said.

  Savannah and Maisy laughed while Ryder crossed his arms over his chest, and said, “My work here is done.”

  “Are we going to RPS this?” Savy asked.

  “RPS?” Ryde
r asked.

  “Rock, paper, scissors,” Maisy explained. She turned back to Savannah. “No, you always win. I’ll do it.” She glanced back at her phone and read the directions. “Okay, I need some cotton balls and a towel, you know, in case it leaks all over.”

  “Got it,” Savannah said. She went to their shared bathroom and Maisy watched while Perry rubbed the little fuzzball’s head. Its eyes shut and it looked blissed out. Did they really have to do this now? She read the directions again. Yep, after feeding.

  Savannah came back with a handful of warm wet cotton balls and an old towel. Maisy sat beside Perry, who gently handed off the kitten. Ryder sat on the floor beside Maisy. She suspected he was there in case she needed backup, which she appreciated.

  “Okay, little one, this isn’t going to hurt,” Maisy said. “Just pretend I’m your mama.”

  Very gently she lifted the kitten up in her left hand and gently rubbed one of the warm wet cotton balls on the kitten’s nether regions. The kitten’s eyes popped open and it let out a high-pitched, ear-piercing cry. Maisy froze.

  “What’s wrong?” Perry cried. “Is it hurting it?”

  “No,” Ryder said. He glanced at Maisy and said, “I imagine it’s just a bit of a shock. Keep going.”

  Maisy brushed the cotton over the kitten, trying to simulate how a mama cat would lick her baby. The kitten kept yelling.

  “Well, at least we know there’s nothing wrong with the lungs,” Savannah said.

  “It’s not working,” Maisy said over the feline wailing. “And I feel like I’m torturing it.”

  “You’re not,” Ryder said. “It’s just not exactly like mom, so the kitten is probably freaking out a little.”

  The kitten kept crying and Maisy frowned at Ryder. “You think?”

  “You’re doing great, really,” he said. His voice was so confident and sure that Maisy believed him. She focused on the kitten and tried to exude a calmness she didn’t really feel to help the kitten relax.

  Just when she was about to give up, she felt the cotton ball get warm. “It’s working. It’s peeing!”