Baby (9)

Summary: Baby is found, then lost, then hunted.

9: The Hunt

Henry followed George all over the farm, back to the house to sit with Mrs. Allen and Mr. Thorpe, and then out again; Catherine followed Henry. She tried to be encouraging but every freshly dug hole that failed to reveal the missing fossil made Henry's expression more grim. And every time the dog temporarily abandoned his game to trot back to the house only made Henry more taciturn.

Eventually the light began to fade. He had to consider the very real possibility that the intercostal clavicle was going to spend the night outside. And if he had no fossil to show Mr. Sherman, it would make it exceedingly uncomfortable to explain why Henry had stolen the other man's car, much less to beg a donation to the museum. And without the money, his uncle would be furious at how cavalierly Henry had ignored him to pursue a colossal waste of time. Good grief! Henry had just walked out on his uncle -- his employer -- this morning with no explanation except some incomprehensible muttering about leopards. And he has lost a priceless piece of prehistory to boot! He was rapidly approaching the point at which he might as well stay in Connecticut to build a new life because the one he had in New York was about to end.

They walked back to the house together and washed up for dinner separately. Henry took his time, not intending to delay the others but because he was lost in his own worrisome thoughts.

Catherine, however, came from a home that stressed punctuality as the commonest of courtesies. As such, she found herself ready to sit at the table before her aunt or Henry had come down the stairs. This left her alone with John Thorpe who wasted no time in talking to her again.

"What's the deal with that Noh guy?" he asked with more curiosity than tact.

"With Henry?" Catherine repeated. "He needs to find the bone that George buried. He's not normally so inattentive, I'm sure."

"No, I mean, with you and that Noh guy," Thorpe clarified. "You're always running off to help him."

Catherine squirmed awkwardly. "I just feel responsible," she tried to explain. "It's my fault he had to come to Connecticut and my fault he lost his clavicle."

"But you're always trailing after him, disappearing with him, that sort of thing. Say, I know this is forward, but," he began, voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, "are you and that Noh guy an item? I can respect another man's claim, but if he hasn't made his move I'd like to take my shot."

Catherine blushed and stuttered her way through a nonsensical response to which Thorpe only winked and said, "Sounds like you're no one's trophy yet."

Before Catherine could figure out how to say she didn't want to be anyone's trophy at all, Mrs. Allen returned. Catherine hoped she wasn't blushing but she couldn't do anything about it if she was. She just tried to blend into the pattern on the sofa until Henry came down and they all walked into the dining room.

One would never guess that Susan had originally planned a light meal only for Mrs. Allen and one guest as the four of them sat down at the table. Based on the number of spoons and forks, Catherine knew they were in for a treat, but Susan had only brought out the first course before George's barking could be clearly heard through the open window. The dog was out again.

With the barest of courtesy, Henry set aside his napkin and left. Catherine, now more uncomfortable around John Thorpe, left as well.

.o8o.

"I don't think I like Mr. Thorpe very much," Catherine confided quietly while Henry's attention was focused on the dog digging under a bush. She did not dislike people as a rule so she always took special care when she felt the need to deviate from the norm.

Henry made a noise that might have been encouraging. He didn't find Thorpe likable either.

"He was asking about you and me, if we were together," she said, her tone a warning on the last word.

"Why would he ask that?" Henry wondered cluelessly.

Catherine sighed and wondered how to say it before deciding to depend upon Mr. Thorpe's own turn of phrase. "Well, I suppose if I wasn't your trophy, I'm free to be his."

Henry started and stared at her horrified. "What, what did you tell him?"

"I didn't really say much," she confessed. "It caught me off guard. But it's just silly! I mean, just because I'm not with you, doesn't mean I'm…"

"Are you," asked Henry, suddenly realizing he didn't know a number of details about Catherine, such as her romantic history or present, "with anyone?" It seemed like the sort of thing a girl would slip into conversation before now: I'm already seeing somebody but he's busy today so I need you to drive me to Connecticut to drop off my leopard.

"No, of course not, but that's not what I meant," she answered. "I meant, just because I'm not with you, doesn't mean I'm interested in Mr. Thorpe. Men often assume that an unattached woman wants to be attached, indiscriminately. That's not the case. No disrespect to Mr. Thorpe but I just couldn't… I mean, he is good friends with my brother James, but --"

"Who told you that Thorpe and your brother are friends?" Henry cut in. He filed away the random facts about her lack of romantic entanglements for later.

"Mr. Thorpe told me himself," Catherine answered, "while Aunt Bess was helping you find more suitable clothes to wear. And Aunt Bess said they were friends too. She wouldn't have invited him here otherwise."

"And you believed him?" Henry questioned her.

Catherine opened her mouth to say, yes, of course, because she had believed him implicitly. Her parents had raised her to be trustworthy so she imagined everyone else was as well. But now that Henry challenged her, it didn't seem terribly plausible. James loved Baby, and Catherine couldn't imagine him befriending someone who would readily kill the animal for profit. It was far more understandable if Mr. Thorpe had met James and had presumed a friendship based on James' amiable nature.

"Do you think Mr. Thorpe doesn't realize they aren't friends?"

"That's one interpretation," Henry admitted. "The man is certainly more self absorbed than self aware; he could imagine himself more likable than he really is."

"Then we really need to get Mr. Thorpe out of here quickly," she mused. "Baby is running around loose and I don't want a hunter to find him. What are we going to do?"

“We’re going to do nothing about Mr. Thorpe” Henry said with authority. “He doesn’t know Baby’s here and no one is going to tell him. Baby will be perfectly safe; he’s a leopard. And even if --” and here Henry felt a hint of regret that he might speak something into the universe and thus jinx them both -- “even if Mr. Thorpe spies Baby through a window or something, he doesn’t have a gun. He can’t actually hurt a leopard with his bare hands and we’ll absolutely do something to stop him if he tries.”

Catherine took a deep breath and nodded. She didn’t like Mr. Thorpe, but she trusted Henry to be right on this.

"In the meantime, we'll hurry things along. You go home as soon as you can and I'll turn in early with plans to look for the clavicle when the sun rises. Mrs. Allen is probably tired from the drive as well and won't want to stay up. Thorpe will have to retire for the night, and then he won't be able to go looking for trouble."

He smiled at her and she smiled back and it suddenly felt far less complicated than she feared. They would get through tonight and things would surely look more manageable in the morning.

Before she could thank him properly, however, a leopard's cry split the night air.

"Baby!" they cried together.

The dog dashed off, towards danger.

"George!" they added, more worried.

Henry took control. "You distract Thorpe and Mrs. Allen. I'll see if I can lure Baby back to the garage."

"Nonsense, Henry," Catherine told him. "I'm coming with you. You'll need help if George gets involved."

They chased after the barking, which soon joined with more growling. Henry and Catherine rushed in, afraid they'd arrive just in time to see George as limp as a dead duck but the dog continued barking and teasing the leopard who was still apparently full from a previous meal and thus more inclined to play than prey.

Catherine called to the dog and miraculously got him to heel. For his part, Henry tried to attract Baby's attention but the large cat was still eyeing the dog and, by extension, Catherine.

"Sing to him, Henry," Catherine suggested. She picked up the dog before George could cause more problems.

"I can't give you anything but love, Baby," Henry began the first song that came to mind. "That's the one thing I have plenty of, Baby."

The leopard quieted and looked intensely at Henry. Quietly, Catherine encouraged him to keep singing and lead Baby back to the carriage house.

"You dream awhile and you scheme awhile," Henry continued and started to move away. Baby, after a moment's hesitation, began to follow him. "You're sure to find happiness and I guess all the things you think are fine."

By now, Henry was walking at a normal pace towards the carriage house and Baby was walking close behind him.

"Gee I'd like to see you looking swell, Baby," Henry kept singing, getting into the spirit of it. Baby made an encouraging noise and picked up the pace and Henry sped up to match it. "Diamond bracelets Woolworth won't sell to you, Baby."

Henry and Baby jogged into the carriage house side by side and Henry led the cat right back to its original stall. "Til the lucky day you know darn well, Baby, I can't give you anything but love."

He shut the door to the stall with Baby on the inside and stared at it like a logic problem. If the leopard had gotten out once, it stood to reason that the leopard could do so again. But how had it happened? Henry didn't think the gaps were positioned low enough or wide enough for a big cat to squeeze through. Just then, Baby pressed on the door and it started to swing open. Henry immediately put his weight on it, shutting it with an offended growl from the other side.

"So that's how it's done," he mused and began to look in a mechanic's tool chest for sitting to the door to keep it shut.

"Oh, thank goodness, Henry," Catherine said as she entered, holding a squirming George in her arms. "You got Baby back safely. And you really have an incredible voice, did you know that?"

Henry might have said something -- tell her that his singing voice was nothing special, ask her to help him pull heavy objects in front of the door -- but there were people in the back yard who were calling to them. Rather than continue their private conversation, Catherine went outside before the others decided to come in.

"Aunt Bess!" she called, far too cheerily. Catherine shut the door behind her and leaned against it for good measure

"There you are, my dear," the older woman said, sounding terribly relieved. "I was getting worried. Mr. Thorpe swore he heard a big cat, and both you and Mr. Noh were out with George."

Henry finally joined them, walking around the carriage house from where he had used a side door. "What are you saying about the leopard?" asked Henry.

"What leopard?" asked Thorpe, instantly suspicious.

"No one said anything about a leopard!" Catherine interjected. She knew that any interest from Thorpe would be bad news for Baby.

"Mr. Noh did," Mrs. Allen said. "I heard him clear as day."

"Oh, that is hardly his area of expertise," Catherine dismissed it. "Don't take him seriously on that subject. And besides, a leopard, in Connecticut? Oh, that sounds crazy." It wasn't strictly a lie.

"I know what I heard," Thorpe defended himself. "Between all the zoos and traveling circuses, there are far more leopards up and down New England than you realize. Plus, there's the reason I'm here," he added meaningfully.

"What --" asked Catherine -- "what reason is that?"

"James is sending me a leopard," Mrs. Allen admitted with a touch of excitement. "He sent me a letter a few months ago that he was going to send a leopard to my farm. Naturally I don't know what to do with a leopard, so when I met Mr. Thorpe and he explained how much he knows about African animals, I invited him to help get everything set up. And it's good timing too! Your brother never did say when I should expect it, but it must be any day now."

Catherine tried to take it all in. "But you hunt leopards," she told Mr. Thorpe.

Thorpe shrugged. "For the right price, I'll help bag 'em."

"But why would James give you a leopard, Aunt Bess?" She hated to admit it but she was a little jealous that James had given Baby to his aunt instead of his sister.

"I'm sure he knew your parents would not approve of keeping it at the parsonage, even briefly," Mrs. Allen said with a smile. "And I have much more space at the farm, and I don't think he is giving it to me outright."

"So you don't plan to hunt anything," she said to Thorpe, "and you don't plan to keep anything," she checked with her aunt.

Neither of them did and it just made her feel foolish. There was now no reason not to mention that Baby was somewhere on the farm. She looked at Henry and it appeared that he was thinking the same thing. "I suppose I need to tell you something, Aunt Bess," she said.

"What is it, my dear? Is it why you came back from New York?" There was a hopeful note in the woman's voice, almost as if she was expecting a treat.

"Yes, I… Well, we… I mean, I suppose… I suppose it's best if I just show you," she concluded, setting George down and pulling open the door to the carriage house.

Mrs. Allen peered into the darkened interior. "Catherine, is that…"

Catherine waited with bated breath for her aunt to see signs of the leopard, not sure if her initial reaction would be one of joy or fear.

Then Mrs. Allen's lips curled down. "Oh, my dear, that really is quite a mess! Geoffrey will have his work cut out for him, cleaning that up. I no longer wonder what poor Mr. Noh did to his clothes," she said as she made out the pile of detritus scattered about.

"No, that's not it," Catherine said, then looked for herself. The mess was indeed an eyesore, but what caught her breath in her throat was the open door to Baby's stall. "Henry," she gasped, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him into the doorway.

He stared into the darkness and noticed that there was nothing in the darkness to stare back at him. "Not again," he groaned.

"Not again?" Mrs. Allen repeated. "What are you two nattering on about? Have you lost your clavicle for the second time today, Mr. Noh?"

"The intercostal clavicle is still missing, ma'am," Henry told her. "And now we've lost Baby again."

"Baby?!" Mrs. Allen was shocked.

"Baby is a leopard," Catherine explained before imaginations could run wild. "James sent a note home telling me to pick up something in New York. Well, of course you were in Boston but I went anyway and 'something' turned out to be a leopard!" she confessed rapidly. "His name is Baby. I picked him up in New York this morning and Henry helped me bring him here today."

"A leopard! How marvelous," Mrs. Allen cooed. "But where is he?"

"We put him in here," Catherine said, indicating the carriage house, "but he keeps sneaking out."

"Is the clavicle even real?" Thorpe butted into the conversation. "Or was it just some excuse to go chasing after a wild animal?"

"It's real, and it's priceless, and it's missing," Henry affirmed.

Thorpe turned to their hostess. "You should be very glad you brought me to Connecticut," he told her. "I know how to handle this sort of situation. Now that I know what I'm looking for, I can track this beast with my eyes closed. Unfortunately I didn't bring any gear with me. We'll have to call the nearest zoo and see if they can shoot it full of tranquilizers before someone gets hurt."

"Oh, Mr. Thorpe, you wouldn't!" Catherine said in a panic.

"Miss Morland, I most certainly would, and I'd know it was for the greater good. You women with your rose-colored glasses and your bleeding hearts, you see a leopard and think of a sweet, harmless kitten from your childhood. Well, let me tell you that this cat has claws and teeth, and you don't want to be on the wrong end of it," he ranted.

Catherine looked to Henry in desperation.

"Come now, Mr. Thorpe, there's no need to startle everyone," Henry tried. "I've spent time with Baby myself and he's very tame. I'm sure I can find him again without getting him or anyone else riled up."

"Oh, really? Want to make this a contest, Mr. Noh?" Thorpe offered with keen interest. "First one to find the animal wins a prize."

"No," Henry answered quickly. "I'm trying to make this less exciting, not more."

"Henry, you have to do something!" Catherine fretted.

"Go inside, Mrs. Allen, and take your niece with you," Thorpe ordered calmly. "Close the windows and lock the doors. Call up the closest zoo and tell them that a wild African leopard is on the loose and we need help subduing it before a lot of people get hurt. Tell them I hunt these creatures regularly and am tracking it. I'll call you as soon as I spot it so you can send the zookeepers to the right place."

Mrs. Allen took Catherine's hand and pulled. The older woman was growing increasingly agitated; having a leopard had sounded so romantic at first but after listening to Mr. Thorpe's tales, she was frightened. She wanted to get inside and lock the house and not come out until there were no leopards in a 20-mile radius.

"Henry, please!" Catherine begged as her aunt pulled her away.

"What about it, Noh?" challenged Thorpe. "You want to come out with me or hide with the womenfolk until I make it safe again?"

Henry recognized the taunt. At the end of it, he was nothing but a man, vulnerable to dares and teasings, and heartily sick of John Thorpe despite having ignored him all evening. He squared his shoulders and said calmly, "I've changed my mind after all, Mr. Thorpe. Let's make it a contest after all."