Whit Daltry adjusted his hold on the long-haired calico, an older female kitten that had wandered—scraggly and with no collar—onto the doorstep of his Pine Valley home. Luckily, he happened to know the very attractive director of Royal’s Safe Haven Animal Shelter. He stepped out of his truck and kicked the door closed, early morning sunshine reflecting off his windshield. Not a cloud in the sky, unlike that fateful day the F4 tornado had ripped through Royal, Texas. The shelter had survived unscathed, but the leaves had been stripped from the trees, leaving branches unnaturally bare for this region of Texas, even in November. The town bore lasting scars from that day that would take a lot longer to heal than the scratches from the frantic calico. He should have gotten one of those pet carriers or a box to transport the cat. If the beast clawed its way out of his arms, chances were the scared feline would bolt away and be tough as hell to catch again.
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