chapter 34

I froze as whatever it was shuffled across the porch. I thought of the ghost stories that Keith had told me and Nadine.

The hair rose prickly on my neck.

Something bumped against the door. I burrowed down into the couch, wishing I could hide under it.

Something, or someone, was outside.

What if it was Myrtle, come back for me, I wondered.

What if it wasn’t?

I was off the couch in an instant and snatched up Hannah’s rolling pin. Holding it over my head, I reached for the doorknob. What if the man with the hook was on the other side, reaching for the doorknob right now …?

I shuddered and cracked open the door.

Cat stood on the porch.

I held my breath, afraid if I blinked, Cat would disappear and it would be just a dream, but last I’d heard, dreams don’t step into a kitchen and rub up against your leg.

I reached down slowly and Cat let me pick her up, but she gave a little cry and I saw why. Her right front leg was swollen to three times its normal size.

“Oh, Cat,” I said, softly. “What happened to you?”

Cat tucked her head under my arm. She was hot with fever, and I could feel her pounding heart.

My own heart was pounding, too. After all these weeks, I couldn’t believe I was holding her.

I sat by the fire, holding Cat as gently as I could, and scratched under her chin. I wished Hannah were home; she’d know how to doctor Cat. Because we didn’t have a telephone, I couldn’t call her or Dr. Todd, the veterinarian, and I didn’t know what else to do, so I simply sat and patted Cat. She even purred a little, sick as she was.

Cat made up her own mind when it was time to leave. I’d been hoping she’d stay the night where we could keep an eye on her, and I didn’t want to let her go, but she struggled and I was afraid of hurting her leg, so I set her on the floor. Cat limped to the door and stood there, waiting.

“Don’t go, Cat,” I said. But Cat stood, her nose against the door, and I knew I had to let her go. I could hardly bear to watch her hobble away.

I washed the dishes and was sweeping when I heard the bump again. I ran to open the door.

Cat held a small kitten in her mouth.

I knelt on the floor and Cat placed the kitten in my hands. I closed my eyes and held the kitten under my chin.

“Oh, Cat, he’s so soft,” I said, but when I opened my eyes, Cat was gone.

I stepped onto the porch.

“Cat!” I called out into the night, and I was still standing there, holding the kitten, when Hannah came home.

Hannah heated milk in a saucepan and showed me how to feed the kitten with an eyedropper. I told her of Cat’s swollen leg.

“Cat knew she couldn’t take care of her kitten anymore,” Hannah said. “She brought it to someone she knew would,” and looking into Hannah’s warm, gentle face, I wondered if my mama had left me here with Hannah for that very same reason.