back door of the restaurant at the other end of the alley.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” She didn’t look back. She wasn’t taking any chances on a stranger in a dark alley.
But the cat’s low cry made her stop short. It was so cold, so lost. How could she leave them out here, even temporarily?
“Is that a cat I just heard? Out here in the snow?” The man bent down and lifted the piled newspapers, frowning at the wriggling shapes underneath. “Hell. She’s got four kittens here. They’re going to freeze if we don’t get them inside.” The man stood up, frowning. “I’ll go get my car. I’ve got towels and a blanket in the trunk. I just hope it’s not too late.”
The concern in his voice was real. Grace knew she had to trust him. “If you can find a box, I’ll cover them with my coat. Please hurry. The mother cat looks very weak.”
“Keep your coat. I’ll use mine.” Carefully he shouldered off his leather jacket and added his thick wool sweater. Hand knit, Grace noted. Someone had taken great care in working those intricate cables and ribs.
She wondered if it was the work of a mother. A sister.
A wife?
Shivering, she watched him slip one leg over the Dumpster. “Do you have a box?” she asked.
“Just found one.” Leaning lower, he pulled his sweater over the pile of papers, not quite touching the cat. “That should help. Now I’m going for my car. It won’t take me more than a few minutes. Will you be—”
“I’ll be fine. But it’s getting very cold and those kittens are so small. Just hurry.”
AN ETERNITY SEEMED TO PASS as she waited.
Grace heard the distant sound of sirens and passing cars. Her feet were nearly numb as she hovered over the cat, talking in a reassuring tone through teeth that chattered.
Finally, car lights flared red at the front of the alley. Grace felt a wave of relief when the man appeared, carrying a big raincoat with a towel folded inside it.
“You okay, ma’am?”
“F-fine. Just a little c-cold. This mother cat is definitely used to people. She licked my hand. So brave.”
The man knelt beside her, studying her face. “You look frozen through. Why don’t you go wait in the car while I round up these guys?”
Grace hesitated. He had calm, nice eyes, but she didn’t know anything about him. Maybe this helpful behavior was just an act.
“Go on. It’s the green Jeep. I’ll drop you off on the way to the animal clinic. This snow is going to make driving slow.”
His calm, take-charge attitude made Grace feel less anxious. “I’d rather help you here. I can h-hold the light while you gather them up.” She held up her little key-chain light and watched approvingly. He was careful and patient as he cradled the small forms in his gloved hands and slid them under his coat. When the mother yowled, he scooped her up carefully and set her in the middle of the box, covering them all with the heavy towel, followed by his sweater and coat. “Mission accomplished. Let’s get this brood moving. Meanwhile, maybe you can shine that light in front of me. I don’t want to drop anyone.”
Grace walked slowly, guiding him around a mound of soggy boxes and two overturned garbage cans. Her feet were nearly numb and her hands began to shake, but she was too relieved at the rescue to care.
“Here we are. Why don’t you sit in front? I’ll set the whole crew on your lap while I drive.”
Grace closed her eyes on a prayer of thanks. For one night at least these animals would be safe. “F-fine. I don’t know who you are, but you couldn’t have picked a better time to come and save us.”
The man gave a low chuckle. “See if you’re still thankful after you see the inside of my Jeep, ma’am.”
CHAPTER THREE
“WHAT’S A LITTLE MESS between friends?” she said.
It was a mess all right. Noah cleared off an old sweatshirt from the seat so she could sit down. He had heard the faint disapproval in her tone. She wouldn’t know that he’d been working for eight days straight, and this was his first real break.
He scooped a fast-food bag off the floor beneath her feet and dumped it in a holder behind him. “Sorry about this stuff.”
“No problem. Everybody has to eat, Mr.—”
“McLeod. Noah.” He set the kittens and their box in her lap, then slid the towel gently around them. “And some people eat better than others,” he said ruefully.
“You’re good with your hands.”
Her voice was husky, raw with cold. Noah was certain that she was freezing. He also noted that she didn’t seem to notice the chill, refusing to take care of herself until she knew the cats were safe. Once they were settled in her lap, he leaned down to crank up the heat around her feet. “Is that better?”
“Pure heaven.”
He pulled out onto the deserted streets, peering through the sheeting snow. “They weren’t kidding. This storm is looking bad. We could be in for a wild ride.”
In the distance an ambulance whined, the sound swallowed by the gusting snow. The whole city seemed deserted, all activity stopped.
“Just as long as we’re warm.” She smiled, staring down at the pile of kittens, curled together warm and snug on her lap. Noah wondered if she realized that her expensive shoes were history and her elegant wool coat was streaked with mud from the Dumpster. If so, it didn’t seem to bother her.
“They look okay.” At least Noah hoped so.
“They’re moving. That’s a good sign. But we have to get them completely warm. Then we’ll work on hydration,” she said firmly.
Noah didn’t hide his surprise. “Are you a vet, ma’am?”
“No.” She smoothed one tiny, soft body, then pulled the towel back in place. “But my grandfather is. I’ve seen him handle abandoned animals about a thousand times, and that’s what he would do. I’m Grace, by the way.”
“Glad to meet you, Grace. And if anyone did the saving tonight, it was you. I’m surprised you saw them near that Dumpster.”
“Just luck. I was … walking slowly. Thinking.”
Her mouth tightened. She blew out a little breath.
A story there, Noah thought. But it wasn’t any of his business.
He drove with extra care, alert for sliding cars and patchy ice. The snow was getting deeper, and the streets were nearly deserted except for an occasional snow truck or ambulance.
He glanced over at Grace, who was holding the box protectively at her chest. Now they had the heat covered, but what were they supposed to do for fluids? Noah was fresh out of baby bottles or eye-droppers.
But he knew someone who wasn’t.
He pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. His older brother answered on the third ring, sounding breathless. “McLeod’s. Reed here.”
“Hey, big bro. I’ve got an emergency on my hands. Can you meet me at Dad’s shop in ten minutes? And bring baby blankets—or clean towels.”
There was a potent silence. Then Reed McLeod cleared his throat. “Baby blankets?”
“That’s what I said, big bro.”
“Do I want to know why?”
“Probably not. I don’t have time to explain anyway. There’s zero visibility out here and this storm is just starting.