Page 5 of The Mating Frenzy

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The stray cathad to be heresomewhere.

Bag of food in hand, Ella Princeton trudged alongside the gushing, clear river in Colorado. The sky overhead was cerulean, the sun beaming a merry yellow, the jagged mountain peaks were snow-capped and lovely, and all seemed right with theworld.

Except for that cat, which she knew nursed a litter of hungrykittens.

“Here, kitty,” she softly calledout.

Pacing on the ground next to her, Darcy looked up andmeowed.

“I know, girl. We’ll find her. She’s got to be here,somewhere.”

Ella placed a few bits of kibble on the ground, giving Darcy a stern warning to not eat them. Mindful of her backpack, she climbed over the low split-rail fence dividing the forest from the condominium complex where she suspected the stray cat had herlitter.

No cat in sight. Ella glanced around the complex. No one seemed to live here during the day. There weren’t any cars, and yet the complex was tidy, the lawn green and the plants and shrubs well-maintained.

Brambles had caught in her hair. Ella picked them out and then adjusted her long, dark brown ponytail. She headed for a bench near a flower garden and sat. Rescuing a stray cat wasn’t how she planned to spend her few precious hours off from work, but she couldn’t stop worrying about the pooranimal.

So, what do you like to do for fun, Ella? I rescue abandoned pets and nurse them back to health. It’s my goal inlife.

Here in a town known for peaceful nature retreats and serenity, little opportunity existed for a woman without a college degree. Working three jobs left her so tired at night she had time only to fall into bed and sleep before the 5 a.m. alarm woke her to start all overagain.

No social life. No time to study, so she’d had to abandon her dream of studying online for her degree. Few friends, and those she had, wanted to get together when Ella worked. Eventually they fadedaway.

I’m 29 years old and growing moldy. Might as well lock me in a closet and toss away thekey.

Ella struggled to overcome a sudden depression. All her life, it felt as if she waited for…something. But what? She adored studying ancient languages. That particular skill set wasn’t exactly indemand.

At least at the small academic library where she worked a few hours each morning, she could bury herself in work. Ella loved the shelves filled with books, the musty smell of learning, turning pages crackling with age, feeling history spring to life beneath her eager, exploringfingers.

Unfortunately, the library’s salary barely paid the utilitybills.

Her cell phone chirped a tune from a familiar and popular television fantasy series. She fished it out, glanced at the screen. Caller ID read MOTHER OF NAGGINGS. Third time in a row. No use avoiding this. She pressed the greenbutton.

“Hi,Mom.”

“Honey, where areyou?!”

Her mother would freak out if Ella said she was searching for yet another stray pet. “I’m taking a short break before coming home. Naturewalk.”

Heavy sigh over the phone, as if she’d confessed to robbing a liquor store and then smoking something illegal. “Honey, I worry about you being alone so much. It’s not good for you. Why don’t you go out with yourfriends?”

I don’t have any. Not since I started working three jobs.“I’mfine.”

“Too much time alone daydreaming isn’t good foryou.”

“Yes,Mom.”

Ella almost laughed. Her mother didn’t fret about rapists or serial killers one might meet walking alone in a dark forest. She worried about Ella’simagination.

It had always been like this. From the time she’d learned to speak, Ella had been taught to be practical and logical. Nothing magical or using her imagination. Her parents approved every book she read. Non-fiction got the thumbs up. Fiction was allowed if it was based onhistory.

Fairy tales were offlimits.

“The real world is interesting enough,” her mother oftendroned.

No television. No theater. Nothing whimsical. No games where she had to use her imagination and make up stories. No magic tricks or magicians. Certainly no video games. Her parents loathedgamers.