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But none were a match for the missing mama cat.

“My eyes hurt,” the kitten squeaked, squinting them tight. All that blue light must have been bad for her. Oops. So much to learn about babies before I had any of my own.

“We’ll stop for tonight,” I said tenderly, “but we’ll start looking again first thing tomorrow morning.”

“You promise?” she asked meekly, her ears falling flat against her head.

“Of course, I promise.” I scratched gently at her tiny forehead to reassure her. “Are you okay spending the night inside our room with us?”

Her ears lifted, but she still appeared to be on high alert, ready to run off at any moment.“I think so. You promise not to eat me, right?”

I laughed.“Yes, I promise that too.”

“And he won’t either?” she asked, turning to look up at Charles with sudden suspicion.

“Neither of us eat cats,” I assured her very firmly. “You’re safe with us.”

As we headed back toward the house, the lights finally flickered on.

“About time,” Charles remarked as he concealed Charlene in his large hands.

I glanced up at the house and saw a dark figure backlit in one of the bedroom windows upstairs. It looked like it could be ours, but surely I just had my wires crossed. I wasn’t the best with directions, even when I had a GPS to help me. And from my count, there were at least eight bedrooms on the second story, which meant the figure was more than likely occupying one that wasn’t ours.

Still, the eerie sight sent a chill straight through me. I glanced toward Charles, but he just kept striding swiftly ahead, completely unaware.

When I looked up at the window again, the figure had vanished, leaving me to wonder if my mind was simply playing tricks on me.

“Careful,” Charles warned, his eyes staring straight down as he held the door open for me. “There’s mud everywhere.”

Sure enough, fresh, wet mud had been tromped across the downstairs. It was too messy to discern clear footprints, but that was clearly the source.

I sucked air in through my teeth.“Oh, Madame Blue is not going to be happy about that.”

“Well, just as long as she doesn’t blame us,” Charles grumbled.

I made extra sure to avoid the filthy rug at the base of the stairs so there would be no question that another guest was responsible for the mess.

But suddenly I found myself feeling a bit guilty about keeping a secret pet on the premises. Madame Blue had been very clear about the rules, and she obviously had a lot to worry about, given her constant grumblings. I didn’t want to contribute to her problems, but the lost kitten needed help and I refused to turn my back on that.

I guess it wouldn’t be a problem as long as we didn’t get caught… At least that’s what I told myself as we tucked in for the night.

8

“AAAAAAAAH!” a rough scream jolted me from sleep the next morning.

The kitten beside me jumped at least two feet straight into the air and hissed as I grabbed my robe from the love seat near the non-functioning fireplace and ran out into the hall to see what had happened.

“Is everything okay?” I asked a confused-looking Blaire, who hadn’t bothered to cover up before stepping into the hall. She rubbed at her eyes and then pointed to the narrow staircase where my husband crouched midway down the steps. No, he wasn’t crouched. He’dfallen partway through. Splintered wood shot up in jagged spikes all around him. I couldn’t see his face, but I assumed he wore an expression of great pain.

“Charles!” I shouted, rushing forward to the edge of the broken staircase. “What happened?”

He grunted and attempted to turn toward me, but shifting his weight caused him to fall a few inches farther into the hole. He let out a long groan before saying,“I was going to surprise you. With biscuits and gravy for breakfast at sunrise,” he murmured with the back of his head facing me.

“We have to get you out of there!” I shouted, spinning around in search of someone other than Blaire, who clearly didn’t have the strength—or the inclination—to assist us. “Billy? Madame Blue? Can someone please help?”

“Now what’s all this fuss about so early in the morning?” the man from the tourist couple asked, pulling open his bedroom door and breezing down the hallway in our direction.

“My husband!” I cried, pointing frantically. “He fell through the stairs and needs help getting out!”

He turned to look and actually had the audacity to chuckle.“You’re right. That’s quite the pickle he’s gotten himself into.” He raised his voice to call to Charles. “Hold your horses, son. I’ll grab Bill and be right down to help you out.”

“This is not how I wanted to start my day.” The man’s wife appeared wearing another Hawaiian shirt and khakis get-up along with a look of consternation. “Nothing like this ever happened during our other stays.”

I bit my tongue to avoid saying something I’d regret.