Mist on the Meadow Read Online Free PDF Page A

pure-bred cats,” she said.
    “I’d say he’s worth something to you, too.
It’s enough for me to know he has a good home.”
    Marissa closed her eyes and took a deep
breath. “How much is he worth?”
    “If I thought you wanted to sell him, I
wouldn’t have sent him home with you.”
    “I don’t want to sell him.”
    “Then what does it matter?”
    She put one hand on her hip. “Mr.
Harper—“
    “Mr. Harper was my father. Please call me
Wolf.”
    A wolf was a wild animal, not a man’s name.
“Did my great-uncle already pay you?” she asked.
    She heard a sharp breath on the other end of
the phone. “No. Let’s call it even for the scratch I put on your
bumper.”
    “Which I can buff out with a dab of
ten-dollar polishing cream. And you still have to buy a new
headlight.”
    “That’s my problem. I slid into you,
remember?” he said.
    “I don’t feel right accepting such a valuable
gift.”
    “And I don’t want to argue the point, so
unless you’ve changed your mind and you don’t want Hex, I’d say our
business is concluded.”
    Marissa narrowed her eyes at Uncle Balt
again, certain there was more she didn’t know. “If you’re sure,”
she said.
    “I’m sure,” Wolf said.
    “Then I guess I should say thank you
again.”
    “No, thank you. I feel much better knowing
the cat is with someone who’ll take good care of him.”
    Marissa nodded and hung up. Hex chased a
plastic milk bottle ring across the kitchen floor. “Tell me, Uncle
Balt, how you happened to find out this man was giving away his
grandmother’s cat.”
    Uncle Balt leaned back in his chair. “I
thought he looked a little sad when I said hello and he told me his
grandmother had died. Once we started talking, he brought up the
cat and I thought what a wonderful gift for meine Liebling. I was right, wasn’t I?”
    But Marissa knew better. The cat was a
Drosselmeyer gift.
    * * *
    “Sorry, Uncle Pete , ” Wolf thought.
Marissa had a whole lot more class than his uncle did. Wolf was
sure he’d done the right thing.
    Now if he could only figure out the
conditions of his grandmother’s will. Whatever this Kundigerin was, mere mention had sent his uncle scurrying
away. Good thing to remember for future reference.
    Wolf laid a fire in the parlor and stared
into the flames, another glass of scotch in his fist.
    “You’ll want to go easy on that stuff.” Ralph
took a seat in the corner chair.
    “Who are you? My father?” Wolf asked
quietly.
    “Another mystery. Your grandmother never told
me how he died.”
    Wolf shook his head. She wouldn’t. His
grandmother had always said scandals in the family were meant to be
kept quiet. But what had his father done? Wolf threw back the
contents of his glass and pressed his lips closed against the
burn.
    “She said you were sixteen when you came to
live with her,” Ralph said.
    Wolf nodded. “Yeah.” Sixteen and angry. Too
young to understand, but old enough to recognize when people kept
secrets from him. Even his grandmother.
    Ralph leaned forward “Sometimes it helps to
talk.”
    “He died in a car accident.” Wolf reached for
the decanter, but Ralph laid a hand on his arm.
    “The scotch isn’t going to help.”
    Wolf set his glass down. “Don’t worry. I’m
not much of a drinker normally.” He looked up at Ralph’s kind face.
Ralph had found his calling as a nurse. “Only my second one today,
and you watched me drink that one, too.”
    “That’s my point. You’re not much of a
drinker, and this would be your second one today.”
    “I miss her. And my folks.” His eyes stung
and he closed them to check the tears. “And my sister.”
    “No fun being orphaned.”
    Wolf took a deep breath. “Not that
lucky.”
    “I meant what I said about friendships,”
Ralph said. “If you ever need to vent about your Uncle Pete, you
know where to find me.”
    Wolf nodded and smiled. “I appreciate
that.”
    “So this Kundigerin thing. If I were
you, I’d start with her