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She scrunched up her nose as she considered this.“Why is his name like my name?”

I chuckled.“I don’t know. I guess that’s just a fun coincidence, but shhh. We’re heading into the house now, and I won’t be able to talk to you once we’re inside.”

“Why not?”

“Because most other humans can’t talk to cats. They’ll think it’s weird and get scared if they hear us talking to each other. And we don’t want to cause a scene. We just want to get you fed and then find your mommy, okay?”

Charlene appeared to think about this for a moment before letting go of some of the tension in her tiny body and saying,“Okay. I’ll be quiet.”

I reached down to stroke her head as Charles pushed open the front door.“I think the kitchen’s back there,” I told him, heading decisively to the right.

“I thought you said not to talk,” the kitten cried out.

“Hush, little baby,” I cooed like a mother singing a lullaby. The only time I could get away with talking to animals in the presence of those who didn’t know my secret was when using a cutesy baby voice to say very basic things—the way most people did with their pets, not expecting them to be able to talk back. Charlene didn’t know this, but I hoped my words would soothe her all the same.

Sure enough, she said nothing more and we found the kitchen easily. The old woman Charles and I had met earlier now sported an apron tied around her slim hips as she began to work on that night’s supper.

“No guests in the kitchen!” she shouted upon noticing us.

The kitten shrunk back in my hands, but I strode forward with confidence.“Sorry to trouble you. We found this little one outside in the garden, and she seems to be missing her mother. I was hoping we could have a spot of milk to offer her. She appears to be quite hungry.”

“No pets are allowed on the property,” was her only reply. She didn’t even bother looking at the poor needy creature.

I refused to give up. Surely this woman had an ounce of kindness somewhere in her cranky soul.“She’s not a pet. We just found her outside, and she’s very hungry. Could we please have that milk, if you don’t mind?”

“I do mind.The historical society is just looking for any reason to remove me as caretaker, and the last thing I need is guest complaints about little black hairs in their dinners. Now shoo!” Madame Blue used her small body to force us back toward the doorway, waving a wire whisk at us to really get her point across.

“Well, that didn’t go great,” I said, letting out a breath of frustration.

“I’ll run into town and grab some supplies. Do you want to stay here with Charlene?” my husband offered helpfully once we were out of earshot of the kitchen.

“She said no pets allowed on the premises,” I reminded him with a pout, but he was undeterred.

“Well, good thing Charlene isn’t a pet.” He reached out to rub his knuckles over her head again, and this time the kitten leaned into him. “She’s just a friend we’re helping out. Probably best you keep her hidden though.”

“Thank you.” I leaned in to hug him. “Will you be able to make it there and back by dinner, though?”

He checked the time on his phone and frowned.“Probably not. You go down without me. I’ll feed Charlene once I’m back with the supplies, then I’ll come down and join you. I’ll grab some snacks while I’m out too, just in case Madame Blue’s cooking is terrible.”

“Right?” I smirked at his sneaky jibe. “I thought the special ingredient in Southern cooking was supposed to be love. She definitely missed that memo.”

“It will be fine,” he assured me, stroking the kitten lovingly while I held her. “If our host is still being horrible by the time we find Charlene’s mother, we can book the rest of the week somewhere else, okay?”

I smiled at that. I loved how little he let these kinds of setbacks bother him.“Okay,” I agreed with a huge smile. “Now give me a kiss goodbye before you go.”

My husband happily obliged this request.“Now get upstairs quick,” he urged, pushing me toward the narrow staircase. “Before that crotchety old lady comes back out to yell at you again.”

Well, I didn’t need to be told twice. I jogged up the stairs, taking extra care not to jostle my precious cargo as I went. Once inside our room, I locked the door behind me and set Charlene on the plush bedspread.

“This should be a more comfortable place to nap for now. Do you want me to stay here with you, or go outside to see if I can find your mommy?”

Charlene glanced around the room with a shiver.“I don’t want to be alone. Will you stay?”

“Of course I’ll stay.” I smiled at the sleepy baby as she explored the large bed and finally curled up on one of the pillows with her tail tucked tight around her body.

“Will you tell me a story?” she asked, a bit more upbeat now that she’d gotten comfortable. “Mommy always told me stories before I go to sleep.”

“Sure, uh…” I racked my brain for a story that a young feline might enjoy. “Oh, I’ve got it! Once upon a time there was a very spoiled cat named Octavius.”

Charlene stretched her paws before her.“Is this a true story?”