Page 6 of Reindeer in the Headlights
Not gonna lie. Wyndham smelled delicious. Of course, my reindeer would want to be near him. I did too, but this was more important.
I looked at the car, so grateful that the only injury was to his ankle. It was bad, really bad, but with all the swelling, I wasn’t exactly sure of the extent of the injury. The rule of thumb was, the more it swelled, the less likely it was to be a break, although sometimes a break was better than a sprain. He’d eventually need a doctor.
As soon as this storm passed and the roads cleared, I’d make sure to get him seen. That would be a ways off, unfortunately. From the look of the pavement, no one had been through since he crashed his vehicle. Not a single car in either direction.
“Okay, I can do this.” Getting naked in sub-zero weather always took a pep talk.
I shifted and scented the air in all directions, hoping to find the kitten or two or five—however many there were. Nothing.
I scented again, this time as deeply as possible, and for the first time in my life, I wished I was a cat of any variety. A cat shifter would be able to find the little ones much quicker than I could.
At first, I thought there was nothing, but then I scented it. Faint but present. There was another kitten nearby. Please let them be alive.
I walked the short distance and found the tiny ball of fur, huddled and shaking from the cold. I shifted back to human form and picked them up. “I got you, little one. I got you.” I crossed everything that I wasn’t too late. If I’d waited until morning, I definitely would’ve been.
Every part of me ached by the time I reached the car. Had I been human, it would be frostbite for sure, but my shifter body healed quicker than humans, and it was just going to be sucky for a little while. I pulled on my clothes, nestled the kitten under my shirt to give them maximum warmth, zipped up my jacket, and started my journey back to the house, only stopping long enough to grab a bag I saw in the car. I didn’t even look inside. He’d probably want his things, and this would save a trip.
Once back in the house, I stepped inside as quietly as I could and put the kitten with their sibling. They cuddled up together. They were so adorable, I couldn’t even. Once I had the formula ready, I’d feed them again, but until then, sleep was for the best.
I went to collect the ingredients for the formula, including boxed milk from my pantry. When I came out, the light in the bedroom flicked off. I hadn’t turned it on, which meant my patient had woken up briefly. Thankfully, he was going back to sleep. He needed it.
The recipe was easy and sounded gross. But I wasn’t a kitten, so what did I know? I mixed the ingredients over low heat until it reached the right temperature, then turned it off and covered it like the directions said. It was from a kitten rescue, so I crossed my fingers that it would be good.
Then I snuck out the back and went to the shed, where I had a bag of cat litter. I used it to sand my porch when things got bad, not wanting to add salt to the environment. I never thought I’d be using it for actual kittens. I’d have to show them where the box was in the morning and hope that they had some experience with it. Training a cat was not in my repertoire.
I felt accomplished, like I was making a difference. That feeling fled as quickly as it came when I heard Wyndham groaning, crying in pain. I raced to his side, wanting to see how I could help, and found him sleeping, but horribly, and then suddenly he wasn’t.
“You were gone,” were the first words out of his mouth.
“Yeah, I went and got the second kitten. There are no others, probably a small litter. I made some formula for them so they’ll get good and strong.” I info-dumped all the information I knew he would want so I could move onto figuring out how to help him. “But what about you? You sounded like you were in pain.”
“Yeah, it hurts. Not gonna lie.”
“How about I get you some ibuprofen and maybe a sandwich? And then we can work on getting you a tow.”
“Let’s start with the ibuprofen and go from there,” he said, closing his eyes tightly.
I went to the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle, hoping that it would cut the pain enough to allow him to eat and gain his strength back. Walking through this cold mess had taken more out of his body than most people would realize. At least he didn’t have to worry about the other kitten anymore. Any little thing I could do to help.
5
WYNDHAM
A small furry something under my armpit nuzzled me awake.
“That tickles.”
The other something jumped on my chest, and I almost screamed. What in the freaking heck was that? But then I recalled the second kitten that had been placed in the bed during the night.
But before I opened my eyes, I sniffed, because the most sumptuous aromas were drifting into the room. First, I scented coffee, which smelled strong enough that a spoon would stand up by itself when I stirred it. That was just how I liked it. Following on the heels of the coffee aroma was that of bacon. I imagined it sizzling and crackling in the pan, and my mouth watered.
If Ambrose was cooking, and I assumed he was unless he had a partner who’d slipped into the cabin in the middle of the night, he was more delectable than any bacon, and I briefly wondered if he cooked naked.
Coffee and bacon were the best way to wake up after a near-death experience and a sprained ankle. And I’d award extra points if I glimpsed my host’s bare butt.
After disentangling myself from the kittens, I heaved myself up. I was reluctant to put weight on my foot, but the pain had subsided a little since last night. With one hand on the bedpost, I got myself into a standing position and tested my ankle. The discomfort was bearable, but I wouldn’t be running marathons anytime soon.
When I glanced at the kittens, they’d burrowed back under the covers. “Good morning. I hope you slept well, but please don’t poop or pee in the bed.”
