Black Cat and the Accidental Angel (Black Cat Mysteries Book 3) by Elaine Faber Read Free Book Online

black. But, it was more than that. The chill bumps spread from his cheeks down across his chest. It felt as though at some point in his life, Black Cat might have been his real name. It was odd that Cindy had guessed Angel’s name, but how could she have guessed both their names? A coincidence? He shivered .
    The daddy’s voice sounded as scratchy as his cheeks with a three-day-old beard. “Run on now and straighten your room. Black Cat needs to rest. He’s been hurt.”
    Cindy nodded. “You go back to sleep, um …Black Cat and…and Angel. I’ll be back in a few minutes and tuck you in.” She stroked both their backs and left the room.
    With the warm stove, a full belly and Angel’s purrs sounding like a Lilliputian lawn mower next to his head, Black Cat laid his head on his paws. Within minutes, he began to dream.
    A little girl jumps from a swing and drags a stick in the dirt. “Get it, Black Cat! Snake! Snake!” I pounce. The imaginary foe is dead. I turn my back on the wretched beast and stalk down the flower-lined path, toward the house. The scent of wisteria and roses fills the air. A lady opens the front door and I dart into the house, as though I belong …
    Black Cat woke with a start. Was it a dream or a memory? Who was the little girl with bouncing curls and the beautiful lady? He’d ask Angel when she woke up. Maybe after a good nap and a full belly, she’d be more inclined to tell him about his family. Or, was it something too terrible to bear? Was she still protecting him? Was that why she wouldn’t tell him? He shuddered. Don’t go there …

Chapter Seven
    D addy John folded his newspaper and laid it on the coffee table. He stood, crossed the room to the china cabinet and picked up a framed photograph of him, Cindy, and his ex-wife standing near a mature vineyard. How happy they were—back then.
    Cindy had grown so much since that day, her head not even reaching the top wire on the grapevines in the background. Those were better days, when the vineyard his father planted grew strong and tall and produced some of the finest grapes in the valley. Back when they were still a family—before Iraq—before the fire in the vineyard. Before the divorce and Carolyn left.
    With a sigh, he replaced the photograph. Best not dwell on things from the past. Things change. People change. Every day held a new challenge. But, Lord, how much more can I take?
    When do I catch a break? John wiped his hand across his face and crossed to his desk.
    The stack of envelopes hadn’t shrunk since last he looked. What did he expect? Leprechauns prancing through the night, paying the bills?
    He opened the top envelope. Phone bill—two months late. He shoved it back in the envelope and opened the next. Mortgage—three months behind. A red stamp across the top read Overdue, Foreclosure Pending .
    No way could he lose the ranch his father built forty years ago. No way could he allow the bank to foreclose because of the mortgage he placed on the property after the fire. No way would he be forced off his land. But, how could he make the payments when the newly planted grapes wouldn’t come to first harvest for at least another year? His secret weapon wasn’t ready to spring on the world yet, either.
    It was all he could do to keep food on the table and gas in the truck, selling firewood, much less meet his other financial obligations. Now, Cindy wanted him to keep a couple of cats? What a sad day when he couldn’t afford to feed two little cats. Nope. They’d have to go to the animal shelter. First thing tomorrow.
    His heart wrenched as he watched his daughter washing the breakfast dishes by hand since the dishwasher had broken and he couldn’t afford… Just one more example of the state of affairs around here.
    Cindy asked so little. She’d shouldered a good share of the housework since her mother left. Much more than a ten-year-old should have to handle, but under the circumstances, what choice did he have?
    He