8

Basir stopped the lawnmower and wiped sweat from his brow. At least it was cloudy, so he didn’t have to deal with the sun beating down on him and burning into his eyes. He hadn’t realized how hard mowing the grass between the house and the street would be. According to Ryan, using the riding lawnmower made the task easier, but Basir had to use a push mower because the riding mower had gone in for repairs a few days ago. He would have volunteered even if he had known using the push mower would be so difficult. Meghan’s smile was worth every bit of effort.

He reached for the pull cord to restart the mower, but a small sound stopped him. He straightened and looked toward the road, but he didn’t see anything. The sound came again, the quiet mewling of a young animal. Unable to ignore it, he headed for the street, scanning the grass for the source of the sound. He finally found it in the ditch at the edge of the road.

A small, dirty cardboard box sat in a patch of knee-high weeds. The mewling sounds definitely came from inside. Basir knelt and lifted one of the torn flaps of the box. Inside rested four tabby kittens that were too young to be away from their mother. Two of them weren’t moving at all. One was struggling to breathe, and the fourth wobbled around, calling in its tiny voice.

“Oh, you poor babies.” Basir reached into the box and ran a finger along the two kittens that weren’t moving. Neither was breathing, and both were cold and stiff. Anger filled him that someone would abandon such young animals to die, but the mewing of the healthiest kitten broke through and he shoved the emotion aside. The two that still lived needed his care right now. He carefully lifted them from the box and tucked them into the hammock he made of his T-shirt by pulling up the hem. No way could he leave them with their dead littermates a moment longer. He stood and hurried toward the house, determined to do everything he could to help the kittens survive.

Ryan came in from the barn as Basir pulled the milk from the refrigerator. He opened his mouth to speak, but a particularly loud mew cut him off.

“What was that?” Ryan asked, stepping closer.

“A kitten.” Basir set the milk on the counter and shifted the hem of his shirt aside to reveal the wretched creatures. “There were two more, but they were already dead when I found them.”

“Where are they now?” Ryan asked as he moved to a cabinet and retrieved a small bowl.

“In a box in the ditch by the road.” Basir watched his friend pour a small amount of milk in the bowl and carry it toward the microwave. “These two are too young to drink from a bowl.”

Ryan paused and glanced at him over his shoulder. “How are you planning to give them the milk, then?”

“I can dip the corner of a cloth in it and let them suck on that until I can get them a bottle. Unless there is a bottle around here small enough for them?”

“No, we’ll have to go into town for one.” Ryan set the bowl in the microwave and turned it on. “There are dishcloths in that drawer by the sink.”

Basir went to the indicated drawer and pulled out one of the folded cloths. By the time he settled in a chair at the table, Ryan had brought the warmed milk over and set it in front of him.

“Anything else I can do to help?”

Basir looked up at him. “Get another cloth and feed the noisy kitten. I will try to feed the other one, but I’m afraid it may not survive.”

Within seconds, Ryan had retrieved a second dishcloth and dropped into the chair beside Basir. He accepted the healthier kitten and dipped a corner of the cloth in the milk. Basir scooped up the ill kitten and did the same.

After a few moments, Ryan’s charge eagerly sucked the milk. Basir wished he was having as much luck. Unfortunately, the kitten appeared too weak to suckle a bit of cloth. He set it aside and dipped his index finger into the milk. The kitten showed a little more life when he let the milk drip on its mouth, but he held little hope for its recovery. It was just too weak to survive. He had to do everything he could for it, however.

By the time the kitten Ryan held was sated, the kitten in Basir’s care had given up on eating and fallen asleep. Its labored breathing concerned Basir, and he looked at Ryan.

“This little one is not well.”

Ryan nodded and stroked the one he held. “This one seems to be OK, at least for the moment. We should take them to the vet, though, and get them checked out.”

Basir rose and shifted the kitten in his hands. It was so tiny, so fragile. The kitten clung to its life, but only barely. His heart broke at the thought of the kitten Ryan carried being left as the only survivor. It would need extra love and care to ensure it grew into a healthy, happy cat.

Ryan led the way through the house and out to his car. Basir settled into the passenger seat and laid the sickly kitten in his lap. He accepted the other one from his friend and laid it against its littermate, praying that small contact would be enough to help the sickly one. Ryan settled behind the wheel and started the engine.

“After we get back, I’ll find that box you mentioned and take care of the dead ones. Meghan doesn’t need to see them. She’s got such a soft heart.”

Basir lifted his gaze from the kittens in his lap, worry filling him. “Will she find them before we get back?”

“I doubt it. She was planning to be gone all afternoon, remember? We should have plenty of time to get these little guys checked out and get back before she shows up.”

Basir nodded and stroked the tiny furry bodies. He hoped she wouldn’t mind him taking care of the kittens. As Ryan had said, she had a soft heart. Basir could only pray that she would understand his need to care for the abandoned kittens.

The vet at the edge of town didn’t offer much hope. “Well, there’s a chance this one will survive with the right care, but this other one... I’m afraid its chances of survival are nonexistent. The poor thing is too weak and malnourished to recover.”

Basir looked at the kitten struggling to draw in a breath, his mind going back to Afghanistan. He remembered his grandfather saying something similar about a lamb that had been abandoned by its mother. Once its breathing grew too labored, his grandfather had shot it in the head to put it out of its misery.

“What do you recommend?” Ryan asked.

“Euthanasia for this one,” the vet said as he stroked the prominent ribcage of the sickly kitten. “It’s the most merciful thing you can do for it.”

Basir nodded and picked up the other kitten, cradling it against his chest as he stroked its thin body. “This one, though, can live.”

“Right. You’ll need kitten formula, and you’ll have to bottle feed it every two hours around the clock.”

“Where can we get that?” Ryan asked.

“The feed store carries the formula and the bottles.” The vet looked at the kitten still lying on the cold steel table. “Do you want to stay here while I put this one down?”

Even as Ryan shook his head, Basir spoke. “I will stay. Even though it will not live much longer, it should know that it was not abandoned a second time.”

Ryan laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Basir.”

The vet nodded his agreement. “It will be over soon for the poor little guy. I’ll go get the necessary supplies.”

Once he left the room, Ryan studied Basir. “You mind if I go get the formula and bottle while he does whatever it is he needs to do? I’d rather not be witness to that poor thing’s end, but I can hang around here if you want me to.”

“Go get what this one needs,” Basir said, stroking the kitten curled up in his hand. “I think you need to not be here as much as I need to stay.”

“Probably. I’ll be back as soon as I can. If you get done here before I get back, just wait in the waiting room.” Ryan left the exam room, and Basir reached down to pet the kitten lying on the table.

“Soon you will suffer no more,” he whispered, unsure if it was even aware of his presence. “Know that you have at least one person who cared about you and will be sad when you are gone.”

He continued to pet the kitten’s worn body until the vet returned. The man worked efficiently, explaining the process of giving the kitten an overdose of anesthetic to end its life painlessly. Basir wasn’t sure he wanted that much detail, but he had a feeling the vet wanted to talk to cover his own sadness at having to put down such a young creature. If only the owners had taken responsibility for their cat’s litter, it never would have come to this. Basir felt renewed anger at the situation, but he was wise enough to realize he would likely never know who had abandoned such defenseless creatures.

Finally, the kitten’s breathing stopped altogether, and the vet put on a stethoscope to check it. He shook his head as he removed the stethoscope. “At least it’s not suffering anymore.”

Basir nodded and held his hand out to the man. “Thank you for carrying out the task with compassion.”

The vet shook his hand, looking a little surprised. “It’s the least I can do in a difficult situation like this. The little one you’re holding should be all right once he gains a little more weight. Regular feedings will help with that. Be sure to keep the little guy warm and rub him every now and then with a washcloth to simulate the mother’s tongue.”

“I will. Will you need me to bring him back here?”

“He’ll need his kitten shots in a few weeks, but as long as he’s doing all right, I shouldn’t need to see him before then. You’re welcome to call or come in if you have any questions, however.”

“Thank you.”

The vet glanced at the tiny furry body on the examining table. “I’d better take care of this little guy. The receptionist will have your bill ready for you in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.” Basir laid his hand over his heart and bowed his head, then he straightened and left the room.

Two people had arrived with their pets, and they watched Basir as he went to a chair against the wall and sat down. He smoothed the kitten and tucked him into the edge of his T-shirt while he tried to ignore the curious expressions of the two women. One had a plastic carrier holding a fluffy white cat. The other held the leash of a small dog lying in her lap.

The one with the cat broke the silence. “That kitten you have there seems rather young.”

“It is about three weeks old.” Basir risked glancing at her, but quickly looked away again. “Someone abandoned it on my friend’s farm.”

“Oh, my,” the woman with the dog said. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Not originally, no.” Basir glanced out the window overlooking the parking lot and hoped Ryan would return soon.

“Where are you from?”

“Afghanistan.” He sighed when the woman gasped. Maybe if he volunteered a little information, she wouldn’t ask any stupid questions. “I was an interpreter for the Americans.”

His plan failed. She placed a hand at her throat and stared at him. “So, you’re not one of those Taliban people we hear such terrible things about?”

“No, I am not a Talib. I risked my life to help the Americans fight the Taliban.”

“That’s quite admirable.” The woman fanned herself briefly, and then lowered her hand. “So, what brings you to our little town?”

“My friend invited me to stay with him and his sister.” He spied Ryan crossing the parking lot and breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure how much more of this uncomfortable wait he could endure.

Before the woman with the dog could speak again, Ryan stepped inside. He scanned the waiting room and walked over to Basir. “Vet finished?”

“Yes.” Basir fought against the sadness at the recent memory of seeing the kitten breathe its last. “He says this one should be fine with plenty of formula.”

The receptionist called them over, and Ryan paid the bill. Then, they left the office with the two women staring after Basir. He didn’t mind leaving them behind, especially the one with the dog. Despite living with Meghan and Ryan for nearly a month, the people in this small town still couldn’t seem to accept that he was a man starting a new life for himself in a safer place.

When they arrived back at the farm, Ryan gave Basir the bag containing the bottle and can of formula and went to deal with the deceased kittens. Basir took his tiny charge into the house and headed straight for the kitchen. The kitten had started acting hungry again, and Basir intended to feed the little guy any time he asked, even if it was more than every two hours.

He found a hand towel and wrapped it around the kitten. Then he laid the small bundle on the table and turned his attention to the feeding supplies. The instructions for mixing the powdered kitten formula were simple enough, but when he looked at the bottle’s packaging, he discovered a small problem. The nipple didn’t have a hole in it, so the kitten wouldn’t be able to eat from it.

As he searched through the drawers and found only items that would make too big a hole, the back door opened. He looked over expecting to see Ryan, but he found Meghan staring at him instead.

“What on earth is going on in here?” she asked over the plaintive mewing coming from the hand towel on the table.

Basir slowly closed the drawer of miscellaneous stuff he had been rummaging through and turned to face her. His heart pounded, and he prayed he hadn’t offended her in some way. She didn’t look thrilled, but on the other hand, she didn’t look angry either. He opened his mouth to offer an explanation, but she rushed to the table and lifted the edge of the towel.

“Oh, the poor little thing!” She met Basir’s gaze, and he found it impossible to look away as she spoke again. “Where did it come from? Where is its mother?”

“Someone hid it in a box in the weeds by the road.” Basir retrieved the small bottle from the counter, hoping Meghan could help solve the feeding issue. “He needs to eat, but I can’t find anything to poke a hole with. Do you have a needle or something small like that I can use?”

“I have needles in my workshop.” She approached and held out her hand. “Why don’t you give me the bottle? You can comfort the poor noisy baby while I make it useable.”

He handed over the bottle, and she swept out of the room. Another round of mewing, accompanied by lots of squirming drew him to the towel-wrapped bundle on the table. He gently scooped it up and uncovered the kitten. It seemed oblivious to his presence until he turned it on its back and started lightly stroking its belly. The kitten stared up at him with big, blue eyes and quieted.

Meghan returned and moved to the counter where the can of formula sat. “You keep doing whatever it is that’s soothing the little guy, and I’ll mix up its dinner.”

He watched her move with ease as she prepared the bottle, and he wondered again why no one had married her yet. Did no one notice what a wonderful woman she was? Could no one see her compassionate nature and the love that flowed from her to everyone she met?

The kitten squirmed and started complaining again, bringing his attention back to it. His musings about his best friend’s sister would have to wait. Right now, the innocent life in his hands took precedence.

~*~

Meghan watched Basir coax the young, orphaned kitten into accepting the bottle, and her heart melted. Seeing a guy with a tough exterior caring for such a tiny creature was sweet enough, but the way he murmured softly to the kitten as he fed it was heartwarming. The kitten put its little front paws on the bottle and tried to knead like it would its mother, but the paws kept slipping. Basir adjusted his hold on the bottle, placing his finger where the kitten could easily reach. The poor baby put its paws on him and kneaded his skin, appearing to relax now that it had contact with something soft and warm.

Basir glanced up, his tawny eyes shining. “This little one will be fine. He is accepting the bottle with no problem, so he will soon gain the weight he is missing.”

“That’s a relief.” Meghan watched the kitten eat a moment longer. A bit of formula seeped out of the corners of its mouth. “He’s so scrawny.”

“He just needs plenty to eat about every two hours.” He stroked the kitten’s belly with his thumb. “He will have to stay with me at night.”

“That’s fine. I have a couple of old towels you can use to make him a soft nest that can be easily washed in case of accidents.”

Basir looked at her again. “You do not mind me keeping a cat in the house?”

“Of course not. I had a pet cat growing up. A big orange tabby named Bounce. I’ve just been too busy with the alpacas and my yarn business to think about getting another one.”

His gaze drifted back to the kitten. “Kashmala...”

Meghan caught her breath. After what Ryan had told her about Afghan men not talking about the women in their family, she was honored and stunned that Basir was bringing up his dead wife for the second time in the short time she’d known him. She waited for what felt like an eternity before he spoke again.

“She did not approve of animals in the house,” he said, his voice soft and low. “Not even a cat.”

Meghan slid into the chair across from him, eager to see how long this conversation would last. “I’ve met a few people who feel the same way. I don’t understand the reluctance to have pets, but to each his—or her—own, I guess.”

Basir nodded, his gaze never leaving the creature in his hands. “You are much different than my wife was.”

Disconcerted by the statement, Meghan waited a moment to see if he would clarify it. When he remained silent, she decided to take a risk. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

His expression turned pensive, leaving her to wonder if she’d made a mistake by asking. But then he lifted his gaze to meet hers, and she saw the vulnerability in his eyes.

“It is a good thing. I don’t think Kashmala liked me very much.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Not only had he lost his wife so young, it hadn’t even been a happy marriage? She wanted to reach out and lay a hand on his arm in comfort, but she wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet. He had been gradually talking to her more and with greater ease, but she knew he still had a long way to go before he could fully accept her touchy-feely American ways.

Basir shrugged as he pulled the bottle from the sleeping kitten’s mouth and set it on the table. “Our families thought we would be a good match. We were not, but I cared for her.”

“I’m sure you both did the best you could under the circumstances.”

“I tried, anyway.” He drew in a deep breath and released it on a sigh. “Meghan, I am not a good man in Afghanistan.”

She struggled to get past her shock at the confession. How could such a kind and wonderful person think he wasn’t a good man in his homeland? Had he changed who he was in the time since coming to the United States? She doubted it, since her brother had nothing but good things to say about Basir.

“What do you mean you’re not a good man? You seem like a good man to me, and Ryan has been saying you are all along.”

“To Americans I am, but to my family and my village...” He shook his head and sighed. “My honor has been destroyed there. I cannot redeem it fully, especially now that I live here. I am nothing...an outcast.”

Her heart went out to him as she saw how difficult it was for him to tell her this. She wasn’t even sure why he was telling her, but it made her feel special to know he trusted her enough to share something so painful.

“Basir, I know you hold onto the past and the culture you came from, but you can’t let it hold you back from your future here.” She took a risk and reached across the table to touch his hand. “You are an honorable man now, one I am proud to call my friend. I know Ryan feels the same way.”

To her surprise, he turned his hand over and grasped her fingers. A hint of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he met her gaze. “It heals me to hear you say that. It gives me hope.”

Before she could ask about his hopes, Ryan came in the back door. His gaze landed on their clasped hands, but he didn’t immediately say anything. Instead, he went to the sink and washed his hands. Only after he’d tossed the hand towel back on the counter did he speak.

“What’s going on?” He indicated their hands, and Basir released Meghan’s fingers.

“Forgive me, Ryan.” Basir ducked his head, appearing much guiltier than the situation called for.

Meghan met her brother’s scrutiny head on. “We were talking.”

Ryan nodded, his gaze going back to his friend. “Basir, I think we need to talk.”

Ire rose in Meghan, lifting her to her feet. “Ryan, I don’t see any reason why you need to talk to him about anything right at the moment. We were talking. That’s it.”

“He was holding your hand.” Ryan shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know how I missed it for so long.”

“Missed what?”

Basir lifted his head, regret shining in his eyes. “I am attracted to you, Meghan. Forgive me for offending your family. That was not my intention.”

She walked around the table and knelt beside him, ignoring her brother’s irritated expression. “There’s nothing to forgive. I’ve suspected for quite some time that you were attracted to me.”

“You have?”

“Yes. I am not as blind as my brother.” She laid her hand on his arm, no longer afraid to touch him. “Just so you know, the feeling is mutual.”

“What?” Ryan took a step toward them.

Meghan stood and faced her brother. “Get over it. We’re all adults here, and you know nothing even remotely immoral has happened. It won’t either.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Then what is?”

Basir rose from his seat and cradled the kitten to his chest. “I am not worthy of you.”

“That’s not my problem, either,” Ryan said.

“So, what is your problem?” Meghan crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.

“You’re my sister, and he’s my best friend. The thought of you guys together...just, no.”

She rolled her eyes and blew out an exasperated breath. “Grow up, Ryan. We’re not in middle school anymore.”

“I know that!” He released a breath and headed for the hall. “I’m going out for a while.”

“Will you be here for dinner?” Meghan asked, following him as far as the kitchen doorway.

“No. I’ll be home sometime tonight, but don’t wait up for me.”

“Ryan, wait.” Basir handed Meghan the kitten and followed him out the front door.

Meghan stared after them, wondering if her brother had taken complete leave of his senses. He’d been the one to encourage her to befriend Basir. Before that, he’d practically begged her to let the man stay with them, all the while insisting she would like him. And now that she and Basir admitted to their attraction for each other, Ryan threw the grown-up version of a temper tantrum?

She shook her head and stroked the silky fur of the kitten in her hands. “I sure hope you’re a girl. Males make no sense.”