She let out a deep sigh, only to realize she’d been holding her breath the entire time. “I can’t believe she didn’t even twitch,” she whispered, running her hand over the smooth feathers of Mary’s belly.
The owl’s eyes were open again, staring at Catherine. Robbie lifted his arm and set the bird upright on his sleeve.
“There, little Cat. You’ve just made a new friend,” he said, taking Catherine’s hand and guiding it down Mary’s back. “Everyone should have a pet as special as this lady.”
“I can’t believe she let me stitch her,” Catherine repeated, stroking the calm bird. “She’s amazing. And so beautiful. Her feathers look like lace.” Catherine smiled up at Robbie.
“There really is magic around here. I can’t imagine a wild snowy being anyone’s pet.
They’re not usually seen this far south. She’s been hanging around for over twenty years?”
“Aye,” Robbie said, standing up and taking Mary back to her rocking-chair perch. “We’
ll put some papers down on the floor so she won’t make a mess. What do you have she can eat?” he asked, going over to the fridge before she could reply. “Any raw meat?”
“There’s some defrosted hamburger in there,” Catherine told him, cleaning up her medical supplies and setting the needle and scissors in the sink with the wet towel.
She went into the laundry room and came back with yesterday’s newspaper, slowly walking behind the owl and laying out the paper on the floor.
“Ah, Nathan and Nora will be home soon. What are we going to do about Mary? They might frighten her, and she could hurt herself flying around inside the house.”
“Nay,” Robbie assured her, spooning out a bit of the meat. “She likes kids.” He looked at Catherine. “She’s safer than those old hens around children. She won’t peck them.”
Catherine stepped back and put her hands on her hips, staring at the snowy. “So, we just let her perch there for… for how long?” she asked, watching Robbie take some of the meat off the spoon and hand-feed the owl.
“Until she decides she’s had enough of us,” he said. “She’ll walk to the door and stare at you until you open it.”
“Have the boys met Mary?”
“Nay. They know about her and that she’s special to me, but she hasn’t been around here for several months. And she hasn’t come inside since they came here.” He shook his head. “I have caught her peeking in the window, though, and shaking her head at the mess her house was in.”
“Her house?”
“Aye. Haven’t I mentioned that my mother’s name was Mary?”
“You named an owl after your mother?”
“I was eight,” he said, rolling his eyes. “And I wanted a mama in the worse way.” He grinned. “But then I found Libby and decided she would make me a good mum.”
“You found Libby?”
“Aye. On the Internet.” He waved his spoon at the kitchen. “I rented out this house to her. I’d inherited it from my mama, and it was just sitting empty, so I placed an ad on the Internet, and Libby answered.”
“When you were eight?”
“Aye.” His grin widened. “And being the smart man my papa is, he fell in love with Libby and married her before she could realize what she was getting herself into.” He turned fully to face her and waved at the kitchen again. “This house has a history of luring women to marriage,” he said, his voice deep and his eyes penetrating. “My Aunt Grace and Mary were sisters, and this is their family home. Grace brought me here when I was only four weeks old, after my mother died from a car accident in Virginia, and she ended up marrying Greylen MacKeage.”
He set the spoon on the table and walked over to her, and it was all Catherine could do to stand her ground. He seemed larger than ever and unusually appealing. “So far, it’s been two for two for this house,” he whispered, running his knuckles down the side of her cheek. “And God willing, little Cat, it will be three for three.”
She couldn’t respond to save her soul.
He wasn’t really implyingmarriage. Good heavens, they had shared one kiss in the barn.
And it looked as if they were about to share another!
He finished his caress by using a finger to lift her chin and then lowered his mouth to hers. The contact was so gentle—and so fleeting—that Catherine was back to wondering if it was happening at all. Darn it, the guy needed lessons on stealing kisses more than he needed lessons on paying attention.
But as soon as Catherine thought that, his arms wrapped around her and he deepened the kiss. Her own arms somehow found their way around his neck, and her tongue also had a mind of its own and eagerly went in search of his.
It didn’t even unnerve her this time when he cupped her bottom and pulled her intimately against him, and Catherine felt his intentions poking her belly. She might have even wiggled a bit, because Robbie groaned, tightened his arms, and started her heart racing with his hot, intoxicating mouth.
Their impassioned embrace had her all but lifted off her feet, and Catherine was about to climb up his body and wrap her legs around him when the owl let out a loud, sharp whistle that made her ears ring.
It was followed by the pounding of small feet on the porch.
Catherine scrambled back so fast Robbie had to grab her shoulders to keep her from falling. She tugged down the hem of her sweater—how had it gotten that high?—and scrubbed her swollen, tingling lips with her sleeve.
Robbie spun on his heel, snatched her sewing kit off the table, and strode into the living room. She noticed his walk was a bit stiff, and saw him give a quick tug on his pant leg.
She slapped her hand over her mouth to check her laughter, just as the kitchen door slammed open and Nathan and Nora came running inside. They dropped their backpacks on the floor, tossed their jackets toward the pegs—missing them completely
—and kicked off their boots in four different directions.
“Did you ask him, Mom?” Nathan asked, padding up to her in his sock feet. “Can I have it?”
“Oh, honey, I haven’t asked him yet,” she told him, rushing over to catch Nora before she got the lid off the cookie jar. “Wash your hands first, young lady,” she said, pointing her toward the bathroom.
But Catherine changed her mind and guided Nora over to Nathan, squatted between them, wrapped her arms around both children, and turned them toward the rocking chair.
“Calm down, you two, and see who’s come for a visit.”
Both children gasped, and Catherine hugged them tightly when they tried to rush forward. “Her name is Mary. She’s a snowy owl and Mr. MacBain’s pet. And see the pink thread on the bottom of her belly? She hurt herself, and she’s staying with us so she can get well. I don’t want you to touch her,” she continued. “Wounded animals are dangerous, and jumping and yelling will scare Mary, and she could hurt herself even more. And see her feet? Those are her talons, and she uses them to hunt for mice and rabbits and to defend herself. And her beak is strong, and she could peck you quite badly if you scare her.”
“She’s the prettiest bird I ever seen,” Nora whispered.
“She’s got really big eyes,” Nathan added, also whispering.
“And Mr. MacBain told me she likes children. But that doesn’t mean she wants you to touch her. Only go near Mary if Mr. MacBain is holding her and lets you come up and pat her. Understand?” she asked, giving them both a squeeze.
They both nodded, and Catherine stood up and pointed them toward the bathroom. “Go wash your hands, and I’ll give you a snack.”
Robbie came back into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “I want a snack, too. And what did Nathan want you to ask me?”