Melisande followed Griffin into the living room. He walked across the room and sat on a chair, placing Adora on his lap, facing him.

Melisande took the chair across the room from them. She watched as Griffin talked to Adora and the baby giggled and babbled at him. Her heart lurched and she wrapped her arms around her middle trying to quell the emptiness of not having Adora in her arms.

A fawn colored cat strode into the room and proceeded to rub against Melisande’s legs. She’d never seen a cat this color. She reached down and scratched behind its ears. It meowed.

“That’s Finnegan. He’s a Somali cat. The neighbors up the road, Chad and Willow Stone. The property you passed on your way here. They breed them. Finnegan came from the litter they had just before I moved here. Willow thought if I was going to live alone, I, at least, needed a companion, so she brought Finnegan to me when I was settled. Gave me everything I needed to get started keeping a cat. He’s grown on me.”

“His coat’s so soft. I’ve never seen a cat this color.”

Griffin’s gaze met Melisande’s. “Yeah, kind of like your eyes.” He smiled at her.

“Where did you get his name?”

“It’s an Irish name. Willow said it means fair-haired, and since he’s fawn colored, it fit. Besides, I like the name and I think it suits him. See that little red ball on the floor to your left?”

Melisande looked to her left, reached, and picked up the ball.

“Give it a throw.”

Melisande raised an eyebrow at Griffin.

“Go ahead, and watch what he does.” Griffin turned Adora so she could see the cat and she gave a squeal.

Melisande tossed the ball across the floor and Finnegan ran after it. He batted it back and forth between his front paws a couple times, then grabbed the ball in his mouth and trotted back to Melisande, depositing it on the floor in front of her. “He plays ball?”

Adora bounced on Griffin’s lap and waved her arms up and down.

Griffin chuckled, the warm rumbly sound, sending chills up Melisande’s arms. “Yeah. He’s a Somali. Though they like to be around people, they don’t like to sit still very long, so he won’t lie in your lap. He likes to be active.”

Melisande got up, strode to Griffin and took Adora. When the baby was in her arms, her insides settled their churning.

“Did I do something wrong?” Griffin stood up.

“No. What makes you think that?”

“You took Adora from me.”

“I … uh … I’m not used to being without her.”

Griffin looked at her, his brow wrinkled. “You aren’t without her. She was just across the room.”

Melisande shrugged her shoulders, turned, and returned to the chair across the room, holding Adora close against her.

Griffin turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll go make dinner.”