Joanna Sims - The Sergeant's Christmas Mission

It had been one of those mornings for him, as well.

“I’m Rebecca.” She extended her hand.

Shane took her hand, which seemed so small and fragile in his own, and was careful not to crush the delicate bones in her slender hand when he shook it. The women in his past always told him that he didn’t know the strength of his own hands. For some reason, he wanted to be extra gentle with this woman.

“Shane,” he introduced himself. “You the new owner?”

“We moved in Saturday,” Rebecca said, her eyes floating between his face and Recon. “I thought you might have heard the truck...”

He didn’t respond as the new landlady glanced over his shoulder at the piles of dirty dishes in the sink. If he’d known the new owner was going to be knocking on his door so early in the morning, he would have tried to clean up the place a bit the night before. Shane stepped all the way outside, told Recon to stay put and pulled the door almost shut behind him. He had no doubt that Rebecca could smell the scent of marijuana mingled with the stale air of his apartment.

“Do I need to sign a new lease or are you giving me notice?” he asked. His previous landlady, Ginny Martin, had passed away and his lease had expired while her will was in probate. There was a shortage of housing in Bozeman, Montana; if he got kicked out of his apartment, he would most likely have to return to Sugar Creek Ranch, his family’s cattle spread.

Rebecca, who held her body stiffly and had an anxious, worried look hovering in her eyes, glanced over her shoulder at her two boys before answering.

“I’m not here to kick you out,” she told him. “I thought we’d see how it goes until the end of the month. Aunt Ginny always spoke so highly of you.”

“All right.” Shane nodded with a deadpan expression that didn’t reflect his relief. Rebecca’s aunt Ginny had recently passed away and left her historic home to her niece. Ginny’s late husband had been an army man, which was partly why she’d had a soft spot for Shane. The feeling was mutual. Shane had been grateful to have a friend like Ginny and he missed her. It looked like, at least for now, Ginny was still looking out for him.

“I have to get my boys to school.” She glanced at her phone to check the time. “We’re running late. As usual.”

“Ok. Well. Nice meetin’ ya.” Shane opened his door, about to walk back inside and get back to the business of finding a beer and lying back down on the couch, when Rebecca stopped him.

“Wait.” She waved her hand at him. “This wasn’t a social call.”

Rebecca jogged over to the spot where her sons had been waiting for her, picked up the squirming kitten and headed his way with her two boys following along behind her.

Great, Shane thought. I threw one back and four jumped into the boat .

“We found this poor little kitten under the front porch this morning.” Rebecca held up the wiggly, bedraggled kitten for him to see. “Is it yours?”

Shane got within three feet of the scraggly black-and-white kitten and started to sneeze.

“No.” He shook his head. He had always been highly allergic.

“Then we can keep him,” the younger of the two boys said to his mom.

“I’m sorry, Caleb,” Rebecca said in a soft, but firm, tone. “We can’t.”

She handed the older boy the keys to the car. “Carson, you and your brother wait for me in the car. I’ll be right there.”

The kitten was making a high-pitched cry and Shane had a feeling the little creature was hungry, thirsty and missing its mom.

“I’m not sure what to do with him.” Rebecca tried, unsuccessfully, to soothe the kitten. “I can’t just lock him up in the house. I don’t have a kitty box or food. Is there a shelter in town? Do you know?”

She talked so fast that Shane couldn’t figure out when he was supposed to respond. That high-pitched crying noise was making his headache worse. While he was trying to figure out a solution to the problem, the kitten finally managed to twist out of Rebecca’s hands; the moment it hit the ground, the kitten bolted through the crack in his front door, into his house.

“Oh!” Rebecca exclaimed. “I’m so sorry! I’ll go get him.”

The last thing he wanted was for his new landlady, who held the fate of his address in her hands, to venture into his dungeon. No one went in there and that’s how he liked it.

“No.” Shane blocked her path. “You’re late. Get your boys to school. I’ll catch the kitten.”

“Catch?” She had turned away, paused and turned halfway back to him, the expression on her face concerned.

“Not in a mean way. I’m allergic.” He tried to reassure her. “But I love all animals.”

Rebecca hesitated for a moment longer, appearing to be conflicted. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He frowned at her, not liking how distrustful she was of him. “I’ve got this.”

She thanked him, seemingly relieved to have a solution for the kitten, and without glancing back at him, jogged toward the carport on the other side of the house.

Shane scratched his long beard with a yawn as he shut the front door of his house.

“Damn.” The soldier stood in his galley kitchen, noticing, as if for the first time, how truly messy his small garage apartment had become. It was a dump. And it smelled.

On his way to the living room, Shane picked up the clothing and trash on the floor. If the kitten wanted to remain hidden in this disaster zone, he could do it. The first thing he really needed to do was get some light into the place. So Shane did something that he hadn’t done in months—he opened the curtains and let the sunlight in.

Balls of dust were kicked up into the air when he yanked open the curtains. Coughing, Shane waved the air in front of his face. Dust was going up his nose and into his throat. After he got his coughing under control, Shane began the task of finding the kitten.

He’d always had horrible allergies, and now, with the dust stirred up and a kitten on the loose, he was sneezing one sneeze after another.

“Quit it!” Shane snapped, frustrated at his own nose. He grabbed a roll of toilet paper out of the bathroom, knowing that a box of tissues hadn’t entered his apartment ever , and blew his nose every couple of minutes while he tried to find the kitten.

He searched the living room, picking up the trash as he went. The kitten wasn’t there. Shane made a second cursory inspection of the tiny bathroom before he headed into his cramped bedroom. He tried to flip on the single overhead light, but then realized that the bulb had burned out sometime last month. Or maybe it was the month before that.

“Recon.” He spoke to his companion. “You haven’t seen a renegade kitten, have you?”

Shane tried to open the curtain covering the window in the bedroom. When it didn’t move, he yanked a little too hard and the entire structure, curtain and curtain rod, crashed onto the ground at his feet.

More dust sprayed into the air, making Shane cough and sputter. “Damn it!”

This day was not going according to his usual plan. He should still be sleeping off his hangover, not worrying about a stowaway kitten.

Shane used a dirty T-shirt he found on the floor to wipe his eyes and his face. Then he balled up the T-shirt and threw it back down on the floor. Recon had lifted his head and was watching him curiously. That was when Shane noticed that his canine companion was harboring the kitten.

“Recon.” The ex-soldier walked over to the side of the bed he rarely used. “Didn’t I just ask you about this kitten?”

The kitten was curled up tightly in a ball between Recon’s legs. The only way the kitten could have gotten up onto the bed was if Recon had put the kitten in his mouth like a chew toy and lifted him.