is a ferret.” Cal got down on his hands and knees and peered under the recliner. Two red eyes glowed at him. “You probably scared him more than he scared you.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
Cal reached under the chair and withdrew the cream-colored ferret. Rudy was trembling, but with a few strokes and some reassuring words from Cal, he soon calmed down.
The same couldn’t be said for Willow.
“I’m sorry he scared you,” Cal said. “He’s supposed to be in his cage, but he’s figured out how to escape. He squeezes under the door, I think.” Turning to his ferret, he scratched it under its chin. “Aren’t you a smart fellow?”
Willow looked at him dubiously from where she still perched on top of the sofa.
“Come down from there. Rudy is completely harmless, I promise.”
She stepped down to the floor using his hand for support, then sank onto the sofa. “Sorry about that. Guess I just proved the stereotype. I screamed like a girlie-girl, didn’t I?”
Cal laughed. “You did.”
She cast a cautious look toward the ferret, which had climbed onto Cal’s shoulder and was staring back just as hard at Willow. “Okay, let’s have a look at Rudy.”
Cal scooped Rudy off his shoulder and held him out to Willow. She lightly stroked his head. And when he seemed to enjoy her attention, she took him into her lap.
“Well, I guess you’re pretty cute. Not really that much like a rat.”
This was the Willow he remembered. Cal had always maintained a menagerie at the little farm just outside town where he’d grown up, and Willow had always loved the animals. She only objected a little when he tried to make a pet out of a giant king snake he’d found in the garage.
Clem yipped once to be let in. And right after that, two more members of his household darted into the living room, probably curious about the screaming. The two cats hopped up on the sofa, eager to make the newcomer’s acquaintance.
“Goodness, are there more?” Willow asked.
“The orange one is October. The black-and-white one is Tyson.” Time enough later to tell her about the other members of his family, not all of which were cute and cuddly.
Willow scratched each of the cats, showing a bit of extra attention to Tyson’s left ear. Half of it was missing. “These guys look pretty battle-scarred.”
“They’re shelter cats. Wild as March hares when I got them.”
“They’re tame enough now.” Both cats were vying for Willow’s attention, trying to climb into her lap with the ferret. “Wait a minute. How come they don’t try to eat the ferret?”
Cal shrugged. “They know it’s not allowed. You have to have rules.” Unfortunately. he wanted to throw away the rules when it came to Willow. “October, Tyson, that’s enough.”
Both cats froze and looked at Cal.
“You heard me. Scat.”
They left Willow’s lap and sauntered away. Willow stared after them in amazement. “I never saw cats mind like that before.”
Again, Cal shrugged. “You can teach them things if you’re patient. You just have to learn how to think like a cat.” He picked up Rudy from Willow’s lap. The ferret squeaked in protest. He’d taken an instant liking to Willow, once he’d recovered from the fright of her screaming. “I’ll put him up. The coffee should be ready in a minute.”
WILLOW WATCHED as he exited the living room, the ferret slung casually over his shoulder. Her still-nameless date had the cutest butt she’d ever seen, even in a pair of oatmeal-colored dress trousers. She wondered what he would look like in snug, faded Levi’s, and the thought made her light-headed.
She hadn’t pegged him for an animal lover. Most of the cowboys she’d known over the years—and there were plenty in Cottonwood—thought of animals as commodities. Oh, they might have a slight thing for their horses. But cats and dogs and ferrets? It was like Wild Kingdom around here.
Cal had loved animals, too, she recalled. He’d taken in as many strays of all stripes as his mother would tolerate. That was why she always thought he would be such an excellent vet, like his father and grandfather before him. That was why she’d been so shocked and disappointed when she’d heard he dropped out of vet school.
It was an odd coincidence that Hank was an animal lover, too. She just must be attracted to that type of man, she reasoned. If there was an animal-lover gene, maybe she subconsciously recognized it and was attracted to the kindness that went along with it. She liked a strong, macho man as well as any girl, but she wouldn’t tolerate strength without a dash of kindness, too.
A man who was gentle and patient with animals would probably be a good father.
She sat up straighter as her skin prickled with awareness. Where had that thought come from? She wasn’t shopping for the future father of her children. Marriage and parenthood weren’t compatible with med school. They would be years down the line for her. It was especially inappropriate for her to be thinking those thoughts in connection with a man whose name she didn’t know.
This situation had gotten totally ridiculous. Maybe there was a clue here in his apartment….
She stood up and looked around for some stray mail, a magazine, maybe. But the only magazine she saw was TV Guide, and there was no address label.
She sighed. He was going to get suspicious if she called him “Hey, you.”
Hank returned a few moments later. “You want cream in your coffee?”
“No, black is fine.” She’d learned to drink it like that in college, pulling all-nighters when she literally didn’t have enough money for cream. Truthfully, she didn’t really want coffee right now.
She wanted Hank.
He brought her coffee in a thick, blue ceramic mug, then sat next to her, close but not touching. She blew on the coffee to cool it and took a sip. “Good.”
“Do you want to watch a movie?”
Only if we watch it while we’re making love.
The thought shocked her. When had she become so wanton? She wasn’t even sure she would like sex. Her one and only experience with it had been so horrible that for a long time she thought maybe she should just become a nun or a hermit.
But her hormones insisted that making love with Hank would definitely not be unpleasant. Quite the contrary. She could tell just by watching him that he would be slow and gentle, patient with her clumsy efforts, seeing to her comfort and pleasure before his own. Just as he could gentle a wild stray cat, he would calm her skittishness.
The silence had stretched uncomfortably. Willow knew she needed to tame her wayward thoughts before she said or did anything foolish. Her hormones were completely ’round the bend.
“Do you want to watch TV?” he tried again.
No. That was something staid married couples did because they were bored with each other. She wanted to rip off that starched blue-gray shirt and see what his bare chest looked like. “Sure.” Since her injury she found TV almost intolerable, since everyone had the same face. The few times she’d tried it, she’d been hopelessly confused.
They both leaned forward and reached for the TV Guide sitting on the coffee table. They collided, and half of Willow’s coffee sloshed out of her cup and onto her thigh. She cried out more in surprise than in pain; the coffee wasn’t that hot.
“Oh, my God, I’m sorry,” Hank said, jumping to his feet. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I just—”
“Your dress. It’s not ruined, is it?” He dragged her