Chapter 11
‘Well, he’s an interesting one!’ Bella couldn’t help but comment, once Noah was safely out of earshot.
Mollie gave her an enigmatic smile. ‘He’s had a tough time of it lately.
He and Jack were very close, and he’s taken Jack’s loss hard.
It doesn’t help that it’s fallen to him to sort out Jack’s cottage.
His two brothers are happy to inherit their share of the money but aren’t willing to get their hands dirty.
’ She gave a sniff, which Bella knew was the closest Mollie ever got to expressing disapproval.
‘Everyone’s got problems,’ Bella replied. ‘But we don’t all walk around like thunderclouds.’ She shook her head, trying to get rid of her residual irritation about her first encounters with Noah. ‘Did you manage to sort out what he wants to do with poor old Monty?’
‘Monty’s going to keep boarding with us for the time being.’ Mollie picked up the dirty coffee cup from the shelf behind the reception desk, where Bella had left it when she’d opened up that morning. ‘Noah’s asked us to make enquiries about re-homing him.’
‘But no one’ll take him!’ Bella exclaimed.
‘I mean, no offence, Moll, the copy you write for the Facebook group is always brilliant, but I don’t think even you can pretty up the bare facts that Monty’s a vicious, cantankerous, grumpy old sod who’s bitten anyone who comes within fifty yards of him.
Not to mention the yowling when he’s pissed off, hungry or lonely. And the heart murmur, of course.’
‘Well, that’s what Noah wants.’ Mollie shook her head. ‘Although, to be honest, he’s more likely to be seeing out his days with us, I would think, for precisely the reasons you’ve listed so eloquently. And if that’s the case, then we should make sure he gets as much fuss as he needs.’
‘I do when he lets me near him,’ Bella muttered. Then, she sighed. ‘Poor Monty. He’d be so happy in a new home where he could get out and climb again. It must be like being in prison, being in his enclosure.’
‘I don’t think it’s quite as bad as all that.
’ Mollie raised a wry eyebrow. ‘But I do agree, in a perfect world he’d have a much more stimulating place to spend his last days.
It always seems like such a shame when a cat’s been used to being outdoors, to pen them up indoors again, even if it is for their own safety.
But what can we do? Noah’s Monty’s owner now and we have to do as he wishes. ’
‘We don’t have to like it, but I suppose there’s no other option.
’ Bella’s heart ached for Monty, though.
Who knew, perhaps a lovely, patient owner would come forward if Monty was advertised for re-homing.
He might actually behave himself long enough to settle in somewhere new and live out what time he had left happily.
Maybe, he’d even hold his temper long enough not to scratch or bite prospective owners until they’d grown too attached to bring him back?
Unfortunately, failed adoptions were becoming alarmingly regular, and Mollie couldn’t refuse a return if it didn’t go well.
People didn’t seem to have the time or the patience to build bonds with their animals any more, and while the majority of adoptions went without a hitch, there were inevitably the few who came back to them.
Bella didn’t think Monty would survive the upheaval of being adopted and then returned to Purrfect Paws.
Perhaps it was better for him to see out his days as a boarder. At least he’d have a calmer dotage.
As she went about her chores at the sanctuary that day, she couldn’t stop thinking about Monty, and by extension, Noah.
They both seemed as though they were in need of some TLC, someone to take care of them.
Monty, because he was old and crotchety, and Noah because, despite their two prickly encounters, she’d sensed such a sadness inside him that she couldn’t help but want to comfort him too.
Bella knew she was susceptible to a handsome face and a sob story – her own chequered romantic history was enough evidence of that – but she couldn’t help but find her thoughts lingering on Noah.
She spent her time at Purrfect Paws pouring her love and affection into the waifs and strays that were brought in, as well as giving comfort to the boarders who sometimes took a while to settle in.
She knew herself well enough to know that she was displacing the love she had to give onto the cats, because she was wary of getting involved with another guy, and losing her heart again.
That didn’t mean she was lonely, she told herself, just that she wasn’t going to make another mistake like Marcus.
Marcus had possessed the two things she knew were her Kryptonite – the most gorgeous of faces, and a backstory that had suckered her in completely.
A former professional footballer, he’d been let go by a League One club after his cruciate ligament injury had refused to heal properly.
When they’d encountered one another in a club in Taunton, where he’d been on a night out with his former teammates, sparks had flown and they’d embarked on a three-month relationship that had culminated in her lending him the last of her savings to see a London-based physiotherapist, and him then ghosting her shortly afterwards.
That experience had taught her that, no matter how gorgeous the face, no matter how sad the story, it wasn’t wise to get snared by either. She’d resolved, from that point on, to give her heart only to cats, and to steer clear of human males, at least for a while.
‘Something on your mind, dear?’ Mollie’s voice broke into Bella’s meander down memory lane, and she gave the older woman a quick, reassuring smile.
‘Nope. Just thinking about Monty. I suppose I should be trying harder to win him around, in case someone is daft enough to want to take a chance on him. Especially since his owner’s obviously washed his hands of him.’
‘If anyone can do it, you can.’ Something in Mollie’s tone made Bella wonder if it was Monty or Noah she was referring to, but as she headed back to the boarding pens, she tried to put that rogue thought out of her mind.
No more men. At least, not until Monty finds a new home.
And if Monty’s behaviour was anything to go by, that would mean no more men for an awfully long time.
Smiling ruefully, she called out to Monty when she heard him yowling.
She wondered if there were any convents left in the West Country who’d be happy to take a slightly shop-soiled novice.