13. Cats
The cat that resided in Chelsea and Vaughn's home was quite the mess.
It was a calico, with spots of orange and black spattered across its creamy, soft fur; bright, emerald eyes looked out from above a set muzzle and a rosy nose that wiggled when the creature was hungry, and if one looked close enough, there was a fierce possession in the cat's eyes, one that guarded the chicken coop and the home with a stubborn collection.
Chelsea, of course, was in love with the cat. It would lay across her lap when she was cold, rubbing its tail under her nose and across her face to get her attention and purring intently when the woman scratched behind its ears. Vaughn, however, was a different story.
He had tried desperately to bond with the animal—he was, after all, an animal trader and got along with every creature he had come across—so it surprised him when the cat refused his attention. Vaughn had tried everything—cat toys, warm milk, soft scratches. Yet, the calico wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. None at all.
It did tolerate him, though; Chelsea believed it was because the cat loved her, but it knew that she loved the cowboy, and thus, a triangle was formed. Vaughn tried to get along with the cat, the calico ignored him entirely, and Chelsea loved them both to the extent of her heart nearly bursting. Which, she considered a blessing in itself.
In the winter nights, when she was sat on the couch under the arm of her cowboy, the cat would find its place, settled into her lap with a content purr, and it was almost as though the two got along for a bit, for her sake at least.
"Ouch!"
"Vaughn?"
"Damned cat and its claws…"
Well, almost.