But Daniel was gone. His laughter was gone. His light was gone. The air in her lungs clotted beneath the rush of anguish. She focused back on the cat, bracing herself against the blizzard—both the internal and external one.
“Go on now.” She flapped her hands as she got closer to him. “Go home now.” The owner must live somewhere close by.
Although…she studied the mounds of snow surrounding them. How would the cat even get home? The accumulated snow was way over his head. And if he took the road, a car could hit him. New plan. Both animals would have to wait out the storm in the garage. Separated of course.
“Olivia,” she shouted. “Grab a blanket and a box and bring them to me.”
She unbuttoned her cardigan and slipped it off, shivering as the icy wind stung her exposed skin. As she stepped toward the bird, the cat hissed at her; its ears pinned against its head. Ego and annoyance glittered in its single emerald eye. But at least its growling and hissing distracted the peacock long enough for Muriel to toss her cardigan over it. She rushed in, snatched the bird up and swaddled it in the cardigan.
The bird struggled and squawked, wiggling like a mini tornado within the fabric. She held on with grim determination. If the bird got loose, she’d never catch it again and it would freeze to death in this storm.
“That’s Demi’s cat. What in the world is it doing outside. Demi is obsessive about keeping him inside. It’s only been three weekssince he was hit by a car,” Olivia said as she crept closer to the feline. She bent, carefully laying a cardboard box, with a blue and red checkered blanket inside, on the ground. The cat hissed and scooted back.
Livvy slowly straightened, the blanket in hand. After a long, seething growl, the cat spun and leapt, bounding through the fresh snow toward the end of the driveway, and the road beyond. It was amazingly agile for a cat with three legs and no tail.
“Demi and Aiden are staying with Cosky and Kait, who have the place next door. I hope Trident knows his way back there.” Olivia dropped the neatly folded blanket back into the box.
“Trident? She didn’t name it Lucky?” Muriel asked, with a fraction of that earlier amusement. She tightened her arms around the squirming bird as chills dug into her body. Without her sweater, the cold and wind were brutal.
“We better get you back inside.” Livvy picked up the box and turned back to the garage. “You’re turning blue.”
Muriel wasn’t surprised at the description. It was cold enough to cause frostbite. Not just for her, but for the cat too. “You better call Demi. Let her know her cat escaped.”
“She’s probably out looking for him. But I’ll call and let her know we saw him here.”
Swackaaaronckcooo.The peacock screamed as they walked into the garage. Its screech sounded half indignant and half terrified.
“What are we going to do with that thing?” Olivia asked, forcing the door shut as the wind tried to shove it against the wall again.
The bird churned violently in her arms, its head and neck popping out of her cardigan.
Swackaaaronckcooo.The bird shrieked, its beady, terrified eyes flickering around the room.
“Shuuu.” Muriel ran a gentle hand over its head and down the long neck, smoothing ruffled feathers. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
The bird instantly settled against Muriel’s torso, offering a soft, relievedcooo.
Olivia shook her head, amusement smoothing the exhaustion and tension from her face. “I see you haven’t lost your gentling touch. I still think you were gifted the wilding talent by our great mother.”
Muriel flinched. “Nope. Samuel is the one who received the woodland spirit gift. Not me.”
A truth that still stung.
She gazed down at the cooing peacock in her arms and then around the garage. It was doubtful the hen was house-trained, but the garage was heated and would be easy to clean. She’d make it a nice warm nest with the box and the blanket. Give it a bowl of water and food. A simple internet search on peacock diet would give her a place to start. Olivia was bound to have something in the house the bird could eat.
As plans formed, the internal blizzard receded. Not a lot, but some. The grief still howled through her, but with something else to concentrate on—something besides Samuel’s condition and Daniel’s death—it was easier to ignore the pain. Easier to shove it into the corners of her mind where it became background noise.
If the garage lost power, they’d have to bring the peacock inside the house, closer to the fireplace. They could block off the kitchen and move the bird in there. It was close to the living room, which housed the fireplace.
Maybe the peacock would even draw Gracie out of her room. Her daughter loved animals as much as Daniel had, as much as Muriel did. It was something she and her children had incommon. Not that the commonality had ever been a bonding experience when it came to Gracie.
Her daughter had never let her close enough to form any kind of connection.
Chapter two
Day 24
Shadow Mountain Base, Alaska
