Free The Bride Wore Red Boots by Lizbeth Selvig Page A

Arthur, why don’t you go register your money with Susie and pick a bed? Have you eaten anything today?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. I had lunch.”
    â€œThere are some cookies and sandwiches left.”
    The man left them with a wave, walking away like a gangly marionette. Gwen shrugged. “He’s a rare type. He has some learning disabilities, and he can’t keep a job, but he takes his begging as seriously as any career. He’s nice as the day’s long despite making up all those stories.”
    The room they moved through was thirty feet square, half filled with tables and benches, the other half with people sitting on the floor in front of the bright jukebox. Gwen pointed at two archways off the room that led to four more open rooms, those filled with cots, sleeping mats, and a handful of cribs. The simple complexity of the operation amazed Mia.
    The kitchen was large and utilitarian, with an institutional-sized stainless steel stove, two ovens, a refrigerator, and a dishwasher. Sturdy cafeteria-style plates, bowls, and mugs were stacked in columns on heavy duty shelving.
    â€œHere’s our office.” Gwen opened a door off a small corridor into a room painted a cheerful, robin’s egg blue. Two desks, two armchairs, and a small round table filled the space, along with three full-sized file cabinets. “Have a seat.”
    â€œI’ve never been back here,” Buster said. “I feel special. Can I let Jack out?”
    â€œOf course. We want Dr. Crockett to meet him.”
    When Buster opened the box, Mia stared, stunned, at one of the most beautiful cats she’d ever seen. It emerged like a prince, calm and curious, its long, silken coat a muted, creamy buff, its ears, tail, paws, and face all a rich, beautiful black. Most startling of all were its bright blue eyes—sharp, assessing, missing nothing.
    â€œHey, Jack-man,” Buster crooned. “Come and meet Miss Amelia.”
    â€œI knew he was pretty. I didn’t remember how beautiful. And huge.”
    â€œThe vet told us he’s a gray seal point ragdoll cat. He weighs about eighteen pounds, but they’re the biggest cat breed, so that’s not even all that large.”
    Without prompting, Jack walked regally to Mia’s feet, wound his way in a figure eight around her ankles and then sprang into her lap. He sat fully upright, facing her like an Egyptian cat god, and waited for her to pet him. His fur was velvety and rabbit-like, and the instant she touched it, Jack’s purr filled the room. He rubbed his cheek to hers twice, turned around neatly, and curled into her lap.
    She’d known myriad barn cats in her life, but she’d always been a dog person. None of that mattered as she swiftly, thoroughly, and pathetically fell in love.
    â€œYou can see why he’s a favorite wherever Buster goes,” Gwen said.
    â€œI can,” she agreed. “But you really can’t keep him?”
    â€œBuster is one of our success stories,” Gwen answered, pride obvious in her voice.
    â€œI’ve got a job.” Buster took over his tale. He was a unique man, slender, nice-looking in a sandy-haired way, slightly clichéd with his army surplus look. Yet he was obviously erudite and well-educated. Likeable. “I don’t want to own a house again or have any of the trappings. But I would like to be able to buy my own clothing and food and pay for my time here at the shelter.”
    â€œWe’re working on the no-home part,” Gwen said.
    â€œI won’t be here every day to watch over Jack, and I don’t trust anyone else with him. People move around too much, and they’d take him. I was going to bring him to the animal shelter tomorrow and beg them to not adopt him out until we could get him to Rory. But the lady I talked to said they don’t board animals—they find homes, and if they can’t . . . ” He shook his head. “I