A Town Called Ruby Prairie
By Annette Gail SmithCenter Point Large Print
Copyright © 2006 Annette Gail Smith
All right reserved.ISBN: 9781585478477Chapter One
The little cat lay heavy, warm, and limp in Charlotte Carter'slap-bleeding right onto her new white pants. She strokedthe animal with one hand and struggled to hold the phone and punchnumbers with the other. After four long rings, an answer.
"Hello?"
Her words tumbled out in a hyperventilated rush. "Have Ireached Dr. Ross? the veterinarian?"
"You have. Who's calling?"
"It's Snowball ... I mean, it's Charlotte. Charlotte Carter. We metlast Sunday. At church."
There was a thoughtful pause. "Mrs. Carter. Yes, I remember. Youwere sitting by yourself, toward the back. Do you wear glasses?"
"Yes. Sometimes. I need them for reading. About my-"
"Of course, I remember now, Mrs. Carter. I'm a deacon at LightedWay, and I read your visitor card. You bought Tanglewood, didn'tyou? A great old house. I'm sure you'll fit right in at Lighted Way.You do realize that wasn't our regular preacher. Pastor Jock was outof town. But we were glad to have you anyway. Hope you'll comeback. Nice of you to call, Mrs. Carter."
"Thank you. Yes. I will. I mean I'll try to. Uh, Dr. Ross, what I'mcalling about is my cat. I know it's late, and I am so sorry to botheryou at home; but I didn't know who to call, and I'm afraid she justgot hit by a car. I-I found her in the middle of the street, a goodquarter mile from my house-which doesn't make any sense becauseSnowball has never been one to wander."
"Cats tend to roam when they're in a new place," said Dr. Ross."You did just move here?"
"Yes. Two weeks ago tomorrow."
"Mrs. Carter, have you ever taught Sunday school?"
"Yes, but Snow-"
"Wonderful. Now you know cats will roam till they get settledin. You might want to keep her inside till she gets used to the newplace. An old wives' tale says that if you put butter between a cat'stoes it won't try to go back to its old home. Never put much stockin the procedure myself, though." Dr. Ross chuckled. "I'm trying toremember now. Is it the third graders or the fifth graders who needsomeone to fill in?"
"Yes, sir. About my cat-I planned on keeping her inside for a while,but it's sort of too late. You see, at first I thought she was just an emptysack or some trash or something, but when I got closer ..."
This time Charlotte's words got through.
"You say she got hit? Your cat? How's her breathing?"
"Kind of funny."
"She trying to fight you?"
"No." Stroking the limp cat, Charlotte tried not to cry.
"We best take a look. Have you got a cat carrier? No? Well, then,wrap her up in a towel and put her in a box. I'll meet you at the clinic.You know where it is?"
"Just down from the post office?"
"That's right. Four Paws Pet Clinic. Sign's out front."
Charlotte wiped her eyes on the tail of her shirt.
"Don't get in any hurry. Be careful. Are you okay to drive?"
"I think so. Yes. I am." She had to be.
"Okay. See you in ten minutes."
Charlotte eased the injured cat out of her lap and onto a kitchenchair and raced through the house looking for a box. A shoe box, apacking box, any kind of box. But as she'd unpacked her things, shehad carted all the boxes to the curb, and the garbage truck had comeyesterday.
Think, Charlotte. Think. She made herself take a deep breath.
Pantry.
Crackers. They came in a box.
Charlotte grabbed the cracker box and emptied it out onto thekitchen counter.
"Mew," came a weak sound.
"Hold on," Charlotte called to the cat. The way the cracker boxwas shaped, she'd need to tape up the end and cut an opening inthe side. Masking tape? Duct tape? Did she even have any? Charlottescrambled through drawer after drawer but did not find a thing. Drat!What was she thinking? Snowball was not going to fit in a crackerbox! What now?
She dashed to her bedroom. Yes! She pulled out her lingeriedrawer and dumped all her underwear out onto the bed. This woulddo. Once she'd wrapped Snowball in a pink bath towel and set herin the drawer, off they went.
Or at least, off they went once Charlotte found her keys.
Dr. Ross, short, squat, and dressed in his everyday uniform ofblue work pants and a loose-fitting embroidered Mexican shirt, waswaiting when they arrived. It was almost eleven.
"Let's see here." He lifted Snowball out of the drawer and laid heron the exam table. Matted with blood and mud, the little thing wasso injured that she didn't even try to get away.
The vet snapped on a pair of latex gloves and flipped on a brightoverhead light. After giving the cat a shot to ease her pain, he proceededto look her over from head to tail.
"How bad is she?" asked Charlotte.
"Not good. See how her hip's positioned? Got some brokenhones in that back leg, probably in both back legs. I'll X-ray her.Probably has other injuries, too. Belly's hard as a rock."
"That's not good?"
"Internal bleeding."
"What can you do fot her?"
Dr. Ross sighed. "Mrs. Carter, after thirty-seven years of practice,I still hate this part. We've got a couple of options."
Charlotte stroked the cat's chin. She thought she detected a weaklittle purr.
"I can do surgery on her and maybe fix her up. But nothing's forsure."
"Surgery?"
He nodded. "Cats are tricky. Patching her up will be expensive.Could run close to a thousand dollars, and there's no guarantee thatshe'll be all right when we're done. It might be better to think aboutputting her to-"
"Can I pay it out?" Charlotte cut him off.
Dr. Ross looked up.
Charlotte bit her lip. "I'm not one to fuss over animals. I understandthere comes a time when it's best to put them down. But Snowball belonged to my late husband, J.D. He was a fool over her. Keptone hook baited on his trotline down at our little pond just so shecould have her fresh fish. So many times I've watched him sit andpick the bones out of a catfish and feed it to Snowball right out ofhis hand."
Dr. Ross peeled off his gloves and took a seat on a stool. "Howlong has your husband been gone, Mrs. Carter?"
"It's Charlotte. Six months."
"I see. I'm sorry to hear of your loss. I can't help but wonder what'sbrought a new widow like you to Ruby Prairie. We've not exactlygot a booming metropolis here. There aren't many jobs for a personunless you're a schoolteacher or a nurse or you own some kindof business, I don't recall any Carters in Ruby Prairie. Are your peoplefrom around here?"
"No. Just me." Charlotte wasn't inclined to share more.
The short-acting shot began to wear off. Snowball raised herhead, looked at Charlotte, then lay back down.
"I don't think I can let her go just yet," said Charlotte, her voicetight.
"Okay then." Dr. Ross stood up and patted Charlotte's hand."I'll do my best to fix the little gal up. Let me call Lindy, my granddaughter.She assists me when I do surgery. Soon as she can get uphere, I'll take Snowball back and we'll get started. In the meantime,you go on home and get some rest. Jot down your number, and we'llcall you when we're finished. It may take several hours."
Charlotte hesitated. "May I stay with her till you're ready tostart?"
"Sure." Dr. Ross went to make coffee.
"Poor baby." Charlotte stroked Snowball's bloody, matted fur."You're going be all right. Yes, you are." Tears fell. "Doctor's gonnatake good care of you. You'll be out catching a mouse before youknow it."
How in the world am I going pay for all this? She hadn't budgeted forsuch an expense. And until she got the money from ...
The kitty looked up with adoring blue eves.
Within fifteen minutes a teenaged girl-apparently the granddaughter-poppedher head into the exam room where Charlottewaited with Snowball. She had dressed for surgery in snowman-printpajama bottoms, pink flip-flops, and a Camp Red Oak T-shirt, sizeextra small.
"Hi. I'm Lindy. Sorry about your cat," she said as she pulled herhair back into a ponytail. "Granddad says she got hit."
"She did. I appreciate you coming up here in the middle of thenight."
"No problem." Lindy yawned as she headed toward the back. "I'llsee if he's ready for her." A moment later she was back. "Time totake her on back."
Charlotte gave the white cat one final rub behind the ears. "Yoube a sweet kitty. I'll be back."
"Don't worry," said Lindy. "We'll call you."
The night J.D. brought Snowball home, he had found her wetand mad, weaned but missing her mother. She was out alone in therain, yowling her head off in the parking lot of a gas station whereJ.D. had stopped to fill up on his way home. When nobody claimedher, he scooped up the kitten and tucked her inside his sweatshirtjacket.
He'd come in the front door empty handed, feigning ignoranceof the little white head sticking out of his coat. "Cat? What cat?"he had teased.
How she missed that man. Only six months since he died, a yearsince he was first diagnosed.
"The bad news is that just as we suspected, the tumor was malignant. The good news is we think we got it all."
Nervous smiles all around
Final bill in the mail.
Then weight loss.
Pain.
Loss of balance.
And optimism that quickly wore thin.
The doctors were wrong. Take a hidden hot ember left smolderingin the attic of a once-burned house, J.D.'s cancer came backwith a fury, tongues of it infiltrating lymph nodes, lungs, liver, andbrain.
Turning down offer after offer of assistance from friends andextended family, Charlotte did everything for her husband, Bathedhim, turned him, cleaned him up. She slept on a camp cot inchesfrom his hospital bed in their living room. It was when she left himfor ten minutes to sit alone on the front stoop of their house, torest her back against the cold concrete steps and inhale her first whiffof outside air in three days, that J.D. chose to take his leave.
"Where is everybody?" he'd asked her the day before.
"Who, sweetheart? It's just you and me."
"Mother and Daddy. Grandma and little Jackson. They were justhere. Standing right there."
Gone to glory. All four of them.
Seems they had come to bear her husband away.
For the first time since her move, weary and worried, Charlotteallowed doubts to enter her mind. Well meaning friends and familyhad implored her not to make any major decisions or changes untilat least a year after J.D.'s death. She'd politely listened to all theiradvice, then, true to her lone-ranger nature, gone against every wordof it. What was the point of waiting some arbitrary length of time?Charlotte knew exactly what she wanted to do with the rest of herlife.
Would things work out according to plan? She hoped so. She'dprayed so. As soon as the money came in and all the legal stuff wassettled, she could get on with her dream. And, as far as she could tell,Ruby Prairie was the perfect location for what she had in mind. Goodschools. Good churches. Low cost of living. Small-town values.
She'd done her research, but one could never be sure.
The drive home took ten minutes. In her haste to get Snowballto the vet she had neglected to turn on the porch light, and the nightwas dark and moonless. Not yet adjusted to the worrisome bifocalsher forty-year-old eyes had only recently begun to require, Charlottecarefully picked her way across the yard, avoiding gopherholes. Had she locked the house? She couldn't remember but pausedto dig in her purse for her keys just in case.
"Meow."
Charlotte jumped.
"Meow. Meow."
She felt soft fur against her ankles.
What was this? Charlotte only had one cat. A white one.
Which was the color of the cat at her feet.
A small one.
Which was the size of the one at her feet.
Doing her best to avoid tripping over the strange cat, Charlottemade her way to the porch and turned on the light.
It couldn't be.
"Snowball?"
"Meow."
"Snowball?"
"Meow. Meow." The cat's message was clear: Where have you been?I'm hungry. And what is that strange cat smell that's all over you?
Charlotte sat down hard in the rocking chair next to her frontdoor. Snowball jumped up on her lap. The cat's erect tail grazedher face as the she padded back and forth across Charlotte's knees.
"Oh my."
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
So she did a little of both.
At ten past eight the next morning, Charlotte heard the phonering.
"Dr. Ross here. Mrs. Carter, we're done, and I've got good news.Only one leg's broken, and the internal injuries weren't as bad as Ifirst thought. You should be able to pick up your cat by the end ofthe week. Uh, can you hold on just a sec?"
He held his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone.
"Sorry 'bout that," said Dr. Ross. "Lindy's filling out the recordson your cat right now. What did you say her name was?"
"Visa," said Charlotte. "Just put down Visa."
Lord, prayed Charlotte later that day, I told You I was ready to takein a few extras, ready to take care of them, love them, provide them with whatthey need. I've got to be honest, Lord. A stray cat was not what I had in mind.
She held Snowball in her lap and let her mind drift. If things wentaccording to plan, Visa-the lucky kitty of mistaken identity-wouldnot be the last stray to come to live at her new Ruby Prairiehome.
Chapter Two
Kerilynn Bell, mayor of Ruby Prairie and owner of the 'Round theClock Cafe, came up behind Chilly Reed and nudged his arm."You boys planning on ordering or paying rent on this booth?"
Chilly jumped. "Why you always sneaking up like that?" heasked.
"Not sneaking up on nobody. You're just goosey 'cause you'refeeling guilty. If you hadn't been gossiping you'd of known I washere." She poured them coffee without being asked. "What're y'allhaving?"
As if she didn't know. Chilly and his sidekick, Gabe Eden, wouldhave the Thursday Morning Special-two eggs over easy, coffee,and a side of hash browns for $2.29-just as they did every week.
"I'll have the special," said Chilly.
"Me too," said Gabe.
Kerilynn didn't bother to write it down. She went to the kitchenand returned in a few minutes with their food.
"Single gal?" Chilly was asking.
"What I hear," said Gabe.
Gabe looked up at Kerilynn. "Sugar, you gonna bring us someextra biscuits?"
"More biscuits!" fussed Kerilynn, refilling their coffee cups. "Youboys 'bout run me ragged. No wonder I can't keep any meat on thesebones. Speaking of which, Gabe Eden, the way your gut's swelledup, looks like you've got a case of biscuit poisoning already. You sureyou don't want dry toast instead?"
"Yeah. Bring him dry toast. Make it whole wheat." Chilly winkedat Kerilynn as she headed back to the kitchen.
Gabe ignored them both.
Continues...
Excerpted from A Town Called Ruby Prairieby Annette Gail Smith Copyright © 2006 by Annette Gail Smith. Excerpted by permission.
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