Charles held the small bundle close as his wife looked on in concern, a worried frown creasing her brow. Together, they headed back to the house.
Chapter 40
Charles and Mary came in sight of their house, and were only mildly surprised to see the object of their earlier conversation standing on the porch. Bill's old beat up blue pickup parked on the driveway, next to his father's slightly older and no less beat up green one.
"Mom, Dad, I should have known you'd be out the fields, after that storm last night. Everything ok?" He had just noticed his father only in his undershirt, and the small bundle in his arms.
"William!" Mary threw her arms around her son. It didn't matter if he'd been there the day before, or hadn't been by for a week, she still treated him as if she hadn't seen him in months. "You're too thin! Don't you ever eat? Come inside. I left some soup in the slow cooker; it should be nice and warm. We were just going to call you, found a poor little thing washed up by the storm. We were hoping you weren't too busy to stop by and take a look..." Mary's voice trailed off as she bustled into the house, building up the fire, gathering towels, and putting water on to warm.
Charles cast a doubtful look over his shoulder at his son before following his wife inside. Bill knew that look, his mother had just taken another injured stray under her wing, and this one didn't have good chances. Bill was very familiar with his mother's tendency to try and save all the little animals. It was where he'd inherited a bit of his own need to mend the lesser creatures.
Bill jogged to his truck and grabbed his black bag; he'd probably need it if his father's look told him anything. He entered the house in time to see his parents leaning over the bundle, which Charles had placed on the warm hearth, and Mary was already clucking over it sympathetically, as she started to use the towels and warmed water to gently remove the mud caked all over it. Bill shared a look over his mother's head with his father, and solemnly shook his head. It didn't look good. His father just shrugged and grabbed a towel. Bill waited a moment before grabbing another and joining in.
With the three adults at work, the little cat was soon as free of mud and filth as they could get it. As the grime had been rubbed away, soft pale fur and stripes were revealed. Bill remarked he'd never seen such a color on a cat before; it was almost a pale yellowish-blonde.
When they'd got as much dirt off as they could, they were left with the problem of the muzzle strapped to the cat's head. And now they could all clearly see what it was. The water had caused the leather straps to swell tightly, and it seemed to be digging painfully into places. The clasps were so encrusted with grime that they couldn't get them to work or open. In the end they decided to just cut the thing off, but Mary refused to let them use their hunting knives, instead insisting on retrieving her good cutting shears. She was afraid they'd accidentally cut the little cat with the knives. The shears made short work of the straps, and they could see a few places where the wet leather had rubbed the cat's tender skin raw.
The muzzle out of the way, Bill went to work, starting at the cat's head and making his way down. What he found only confirmed his suspicions that she, and he now knew it was she, was in a bad way. She was breathing weakly, and suffering from hypothermia, shock, and likely dehydration, if he was reading the signs correctly. Her right front leg was swollen, and he wasn't sure if it were broken or not, he'd need an x-ray to make sure one-way or the other. Additionally, there was a deep wound across her shoulders that looked suspiciously like it had been caused by a bullet. As if that wasn't enough, she felt like she had a few cracked ribs, at the very least badly bruised ones, and had likely swallowed enough water and been exposed long enough that she would probably develop pneumonia. If she lived the night, she'd probably get a lot sicker before she got better.
Bill looked up at the end of his assessment. "I'm not going to lie mom. It doesn't look good; I'm not sure how she's even hung on this long. Honestly, mom, I don't think she'll last long, and she'll be suffering. Now, its up to you since you found her, but I think it would be best to ease her pain..."
Bill trailed off as the cat stirred, choosing that very moment to let out a weak mewl, before opening its brilliant blue eyes. Even dazed and clouded, there was something in those eyes that said "I'm not going to give up." The cat briefly locked eyes with Mary before closing them again and falling asleep.
Seeing the look on his mother's face as the cat had looked at her, Bill started resignedly unpacking various items from his bag. As if he hadn't just been about to suggest they end the cat's suffering, he gave his mother instructions on the things he removed. "Mom, you remember that formula the time that barn cat abandoned its kittens? Well you can make that up again, but for now, just see if she'll take some sweetened water, as much as she'll take. And here is an antibiotic, try to get three full droppers into her a day, maybe we can keep the infection at bay. I'll leave you with some ointment for the cuts and some syringes to help feed her with. Now, I want to splint that leg of hers, I'm not sure if its broken or not, but I think until she can have it x-rayed might as well keep it immobile. It's bad enough that keeping it still won't hurt. Lastly, but most importantly, keep her warm."
Mary just nodded through all the instructions. She'd done most all of the things on all the various strays she'd cared for over the years, although she had to admit, this one would be a challenge. It would need a lot of love and care, and Mary had an abundance of both. The two men knew this as well. If anyone had a chance of bringing the little cat back from the brink, she would.
Charles left his wife to fuss over the small cat, as he walked his son out to his truck. "So, Bill, what brought you over here so early? I know it wasn't our wishful thinking."
Bill grinned, than sobered as he remembered the news he'd come to pass along to his parents. "I know you don't always pay attention to the news, but there's word of an escaped tiger in the area. Last I heard, they were still tracking it."
Charles looked startled. "A tiger? Where in blazes would a tiger come from?"
Bill shook his head. "Some rich guy with way too much money apparently, was keeping it illegal like and it got away last night. There might be some other big cats still loose too, like a bobcat and a cheetah. I just wanted to make sure you knew so you could keep an eye out."
"Thanks, Bill. I appreciate it, and thanks for looking your Mother's latest foundling over."
"No problem dad, I'll see if I can stop by tomorrow too. Call me if you need anything, give mom my love for me." Bill climbed into his pickup after shaking his father's hand and rumbled off down the road. Charles turned back to the house, and paused in the doorway, unnoticed by his wife, as she bent over the little cat, talking softly to it.
He frowned as the cat stirred and made soft noises, whether from pain or dreams, or a combination of the two he didn't know. Whatever, his wife began stroking it softly, and than began to croon quietly. Charles couldn't help but smile, the lullaby was one she'd often sang to their own children, when their sleep had been disturbed by dreams or fevers. He closed his eyes as the lyrics brought back memories.
Close your eyes, and sleep my darling,
You're safe in my arms.
Let sleep come and claim you,
For the night has now come.
Sleep sweet and sleep sound,
Angels play in your dreams.
Sleep sweet and sleep sound,
'Til the morning does come.
When she'd finished, the cat was laying still again, sleeping quietly. As Charles watched them, he fervently hoped that the little cat would make it.
A/N: I thought you all deserved a little warm fuzziness after sticking with me through the last few dark ones. Arden was an evil character, and I hadn't realized how evil I'd made him until everyone started reacting to him in the reviews! And to answer an earlier review, it was actually tempting to kill him off, but I took the easy way out and had him leave. But who knows, maybe he'll escape and get eaten by a tiger. Heh. Well anyway, if you are reading this, that means I didn't lose you in the dark chapters, so hopefully these last two chapters have been your reward. I know I'm kinda evil, having Sam escape just as the guys found where she'd been taken, but if I had let them rescue her, she wouldn't be able to have the other adventures I have planned for her. Sam against the world, hey? And besides, if I hadn't, than Mary and Charles Roberts would not have come into being, and I think the world needs a few Mary and Charles Robertses out there, don't you? And oh yes, that reminds me, special thanks to my friend Wendy, who provided me with the lyrics for the lullaby that Mary sang for Sam, from a lullaby she used to sing to her own son.