Chapter 9: Meeting a Panther for the First Time
Wandering around Ian’s house felt wrong, on so many levels, yet Anna felt compelled to do so for she really had to find him. Normally, she wasn’t brave enough to explore an unknown place on her own, but in this case she had no choice, as Ian seemed to have vanished. Also, there was something else about this place that made her feel different. Her guard was down. Her façade was melting away, and for once, she felt like she belonged, she felt real, and true, and she began to think that perhaps fairytales might be real after all. Most importantly, she didn’t feel silly for thinking that.
She walked all along the main floor and called out his name. “Ian?” She walked through the adjoining dining room, into the open modern kitchen and called his name once more. “Ian?”
Off the kitchen was an enclosed porch. She opened the door and stepped inside. There was no covering on any of the windows, which made up three of the walls. Wrought iron furniture filled the room. Touching the cool metal scrollwork of the loveseat, she let her eyes look out one of the tall windows into the ever darkening evening. That was when she noticed that there was a door off the porch that went out to the elevated deck.
She hesitated before she went out the door, but then opened it and walked out on the high deck. The air was cold and smelled of rain. Noticing the deck wrapped around three sides of the house, she looked to her right and then to her left. The main part of the house was ground level in the front and two stories high in the back. Therefore, the deck in the back was very high off the ground, and was even with some of the treetops. She leaned over the wooden balustrade and peered down into the woods, down the side of the hill, and decided to call his name once more, though she said it softly, almost in a loud whisper.
“Ian? Are you out there?” The house had a lower level, and there was another room off the other side of the great room. She would go back inside and explore the rest of the house, and if she didn’t find him, only then would she come back outside.
Still facing the woods, she felt the hair on the back of her neck instantly stand on end as she registered a presence. Her breath caught in her throat. She turned slowly … it was not the person she sought. It wasn’t a person at all.
A low moan, resembling a cry, came out of her mouth between ragged breaths, when she saw a massive black panther on the deck, blocking her safe passage back into the enclosed porch.
She began to shake; her eyes darted to and fro, trying to figure out a means of escape. She was about to scream, when the large cat calmly sat down in front of her. It merely sat down and stared at her.
“Okay,” she said out loud. She wondered if this was the same cat that had saved her, and figured that it had to be. The story she had read moments before flashed in her mind. What if this wasn’t just a cat, but a person that had ‘morphed’ into a cat? That still didn’t mean this particular cat was a friend.
She decided to walk around the cat. What other choice did she have? She started to walk around it, when it stared at her and growled. She walked backwards to find the stairs that she knew led to the circular driveway. Maintaining eye contact, she took three slow steps backwards. She knew the stairs were only feet away. The predator idled behind her, forcing her back upon the deck.
Its eyes were yellow and large, the pupils mere slits. His fur black as the night, and sleek, almost wet looking, as if it was made of oil. The head of the large cat was larger than her head. Her eyes darted down to its feet, and the width and spans of its paws surprised her more than anything. She blinked hard, swallowed again, and silently prayed for help.
Mountain lions were indigenous to this area, but were panthers? Frankly, she always assumed they were the same thing. She admitted to herself that she didn’t know anything about them, and didn’t care, and didn’t have the time to worry about it. She also wasn’t sure this was a regular old panther. The story she had read earlier was still ruminating around her brain … fairies … morphing into animals … and as frightened as she was, she knew in her heart that she believed the stories from that book and that this was the panther that saved her earlier.
“Fine, you want me to stay on the deck, I will,” she said to the cat. “Are you the cat that saved my life earlier?” After she asked that question she said to herself, “You’re going insane, Anna. You’re asking a large cat if he saved your life, when he probably wants to have you for dinner.” She swallowed hard and added, “Plus, it’s not like he’s going to answer me, are you?” She was trying to hold a conversation with a large cat! With large, pointed teeth, and if she was wrong in her new beliefs, she probably really was going to be the cat’s nighttime snack!
A rustling sound behind her, in the woods below, caught her immediate attention. She looked over her shoulder for a split second and the cat bounded forward. She turned back, stared at him, covered her hands over her head, and screamed. The cat leaped past her, not on her, over the railing, and then it seemed to chase something out of sight.
She collapsed on rubbery legs, sinking to the floor of the deck, shocked. Where was Ian? Hadn’t he heard her scream? She knew she had to get back into the safety of the house, but she found that she couldn’t stand. It was too late, anyway. The cat was back, having leapt back up the stairs, and it was ambling slowly toward her, from the far end of the long deck, its tail twitching.
She pushed back against the wooden banister, her back rubbing against the railing. She pulled her knees up to her chest, placed her face on her knees, her arms around her legs, and she began to cry. These tears came easily. They were borne from fear, and weren’t forced or contrived. Holding back the tears the best she could, she waited for it to strike. Finally, without looking up, her face still tucked into her knees, she begged, “Please don’t eat me.”
“You don’t look like you would have much meat on your bones anyway,” a voice responded.
Beyond shocked, she looked up. A man was standing in front of her. It was the same man she had seen earlier at the coffee shop, who had sat in the corner reading, when she arrived. His weight was shifting from one foot to the other.
Still shaking, she said, “Who are you? Where did the panther go?” The man was young, although she would guess that he was older than Ian. He had shaggy dark hair, a bit of facial hair, but like every other person she had met so far, he was extremely handsome. Why was everyone so beautiful here?
He knelt beside her, and then sat down next to her. He moved with grace that often was attributed to men such as him. He looked over toward her and she noticed his eyes. They were brown, but they had a ring of gold around the pupils, similar to the panther. He extended his hand toward her and said, “My name is Keenan. Why are you outside?”
Still breathing hard, she replied, “I was looking for Ian. Did you see the panther?” She ignored his outstretched hand.
“What panther?” he asked. He pulled his hand back to his side with one sleek movement.
She stared at him for a full two seconds and then incredulously said, “There was just a panther up here with me! You must have seen it!”
“Really? Must I have? Are you alright?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
She shook her head and said, “Yes, yes, it didn’t hurt me.”
He laughed once and said, “I meant, are you drunk, delusional? Should I fear for my safety? I mean, you’re obviously seeing things. There wasn’t a panther here.”
She frowned. “Yes there was!”
“I would have seen it, wouldn’t I?” he asked.
“Maybe you are the panther,” she deduced, pointing at him. As soon as she said it, she felt stupid. She even felt more ridiculous when he started to laugh.
He laughed and laughed. “Do I look like a panther? My hair is getting a bit long, but no, I’m a person, just like you. Are you in shock or something? I imagine something’s wrong with you, if you think you saw a panther, and if you think I’m your phantom panther, then maybe your eyesight merely needs checking.”
She frowned, pointing at him again with more anger before she shouted, “My eyesight’s fine, thank you very much! There was a large, black panther sitting right where you are, and then it jumped over the railing, and then it came back! And don’t you dare say I’m delusional again!’’
He grinned. Seriously, she thought he looked like a cat even when he grinned.
“Can I call you insane?”
“NO!”
“Tired?”
“No -well, yes- I am tired, but I’m not imagining things.”
He shrugged. “I hear you’ve had a bad day. Perhaps that’s enough to make you see things.” He smiled and followed it with a wink.
She stared at him and then she couldn’t help it, she smiled back at him, even though she found him infuriating. “Yeah, I’ve had a weird day, to say the least.”
“I broke a shoelace today,” he said. He pointed toward one of his shoes. “That’s always a bummer. Can you top that?” He smiled at her again.
“Well, gee, no one can top that,” she began, wanting to sound sarcastic, although she was beginning to like this man. “You win. Breaking a shoelace beats walking a mile from a train station, falling over a fat, yellow cat, being attacked by a bunch of birds, almost drowning, losing my host, and then having a panther jump over you. Oh, and leaving your only home for places unknown.”
“Exactly,” he agreed, still smiling. “And you haven’t lost your host. He had things to see to, as he often does. He thought you would have slept longer. He assumed you were out for the night. He asked me to look in on you, so here I am.”
“Where is he?”
“As I said, he had some people to see, some places to go, so he asked that I watch out for you. I wasn’t aware that meant I would be babysitting an insane person who sees things.” He reached over and surprised her by touching the end of her hair. Again, he moved so fast that she didn’t have time to register what he was about to do. He felt her hair between his thumb and forefinger, and then pushed it off her shoulder.
She grimaced. Maybe she didn’t like him that much. “I’m not insane!” Then she almost whined when she asked, “Did you truly not see the panther a moment ago?”
“No. I truly didn’t see it.” He stared at her with a look that said he didn’t believe her. The problem was, she didn’t believe that look.
“I’m not lying, I swear.”
He grinned, leaning toward her and said, “It’s not nice to swear. Tell you what, princess, if you say there was a panther, I believe you. You don’t look like a liar, and you really don’t look insane. I’m just sorry I missed it. It must have been a sight. I’ve never seen a panther before.”
“A black panther,” she clarified.
“Imagine that. I thought Black Panthers were a thing of the past, gone with hippies and flower children.” He stood suddenly, bounding to his feet, and then offered his hand to her. “Perhaps we should go inside. If it comes back, I might be afraid. You’ll have to protect me. I hate cats. I have allergies.”
She looked at his face, then his hand. She stayed where she was. “What’s your last name?”
“Why should I tell you? You haven’t told me your name yet, although I already know it. Ian said you were rude, but I had no clue you were without any manners at all.” He sat down again, this time opposite her, with his back against the outside wall of windows near the door to the enclosed porch. “But don’t feel bad, since I already know who you are, I’ll overlook your rudeness. My last name’s O’Reihle.”
He moved again, quickly, so that his legs were out in front of him, crossing his feet at his ankles. Every movement this man made was made with cat like grace, and speed. Anna didn’t care what anyone said, she knew he was her panther.
“Yes, well, I would say it was nice to meet you, but I find you’re a bit irritating, and I think you’re hiding something from me. Also, I’ve had a bad day, hence the reason for my demeanor,” she said flippantly. “I’m usually not rude. This place brings out all sorts of buried emotions, or so I’m finding. By the way, how do you know who I am?”
“Everyone does, but Ian’s already told you that, didn’t he? Let’s go inside, Princess Rude,” he said as a joke. “I think that will be my new nickname for you.”
She glared at him, pushing slightly away from the railings. “Stop calling me princess. I can’t believe you think I’m rude. You’re the rude one.” She pushed up from the floor and stood. He remained where he was. She started past him to go in the door, and he reached out and grabbed her pant leg.
She looked down at his hand and then straight to his eyes. He held tight. He looked up; his eyes were dark and predatory. “Don’t go away angry, Princess Rude. Like you said, you’ve had a bad day, and I’m sure your temperament improves when you’ve had a good day. Also, if I was a cat, and I needed a snack, you’d definitely be the first person I’d seek out. You have just the right amount of meat on your bones.”
Anna kicked out at him to remove her pants from his hand. He laughed and stood quickly, catching her off guard. She stumbled backwards and would have fallen right over, except he caught her easily. He was agile, quick and lithe, just like a cat.
Pressing her hands against his chest, she ordered, “Let me go.”
“If I do, you’ll fall over,” he replied, smiling. “You might hit your head, causing more delusions, or you might fall on that cute little behind of yours on the floor. I might have to kiss it to make it feel better.”
Ian walked up the stairs from the driveway. He sighed openly and said, “Keenan, get your paws off her.” He walked closer and asked, “What in the hell are you doing outside with Anna?
“She came outside by herself, and all I’m doing to her is tormenting her, flirting with her, teaching her manners: take your pick,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder. He still held her over his arms, at an awkward angle. She grasped his arms tightly. He gazed down at her and said, “Either that or I’m considering whether or not she’d make a good kitty treat, since she’s accused me of being a panther. Also, if I let her go, she’ll land on her behind.”
Anna hit his shoulder with one fist and said, “Let me go!”
“But as I said, you’ll land on your pretty behind,” he repeated with a slight purr.
Ian walked toward them. He seemed tired. He placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder and said, “Stop tormenting her immediately. Leave her alone. She’s not up for your teasing.” He stood close, very close. The other man raised Anna up and pushed her toward Ian. She stumbled slightly, but Ian steadied her with a hand to her back.
“Shall I go?” Keenan asked, his long body leaning against the wall of windows again. Ian placed Anna behind him.
“I think Anna would say you’ve worn out your welcome, and I’m back now, so yes, go,” Ian said, without preamble.
Keenan moved a bit to the side to look at her and said, “Oh, I don’t know about that. We’ve only just met, and we’ve already become fast friends. She’s not tired of me, are you, Princess Rude? I think she’s decided that she likes me. I think my animal magnetism has attracted her to me.” A low rumbling laugh started in his chest. He reached over and patted her cheek.
She reached around Ian and slapped the other man’s hand away. To her shock, he slapped her hand in return. She slipped around Ian and in a fit of rage (where it came from, she would never know), she went for him. Ian grabbed her around the waist, to hold her back, as shocked as she was.
The dark haired man laughed a loud, boisterous laugh. “Hell, Ian, she’s a little wildcat herself. Hold her back, and I’ll slip out of here. Meow, princess.” He patted her cheek again.
She tried to hit him in return, but Ian pushed her around his back again. “Go, Keenan, or I’m going to let her at you.”
The man laughed the whole way off the porch.
Ian turned and looked at her with eyes full of pride. He laughed and said, “Seriously?”
“He’s horrible, and rude, and sexiest, and I think he’s awful, even if he might have saved my life as a panther!” Anna shouted. “You should have let me hit him again.”
“I promise,” Ian started, swinging his arm around her shoulder, “next time you see him, you can beat the crap out of him, but I’m too tired to referee a fight tonight.” He pushed her through the door of the porch and then locked it behind him. He suddenly realized that she had mentioned that she thought Keenan was the panther that saved her; the fact that she was correct in her assumption was one thing, the fact that she said it with ease, as if she really believed it, was another. He didn’t know if he should remark on her comment or not.
They walked back into the dining area off the kitchen, and he sat down on one of the chairs. “How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to read most of your book,” she said plainly.
He had left it out on purpose. He half hoped she would wake and seek it out to read the first story. He knew it was a coward’s way of explaining the history of their people, but he also knew it would open her up for the conversation. However, right now, he was too tired to speak. If she truly accepted the stories as fact, it would be a miracle.
“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” he announced. He stood, locked the door from the dining room to the porch, and then went to the couch. He closed the book and took it to the room off the other side of the foyer.
She waited for him, but when he didn’t return, she walked through his house and opened the door he entered minutes before. The room was dark and dim. No light came in from the wall of windows across from the bed, even though they had no curtains or coverings. The sky was dark beyond the windows, and the outline or trees and the black sky was painted across the glass like a landscape.
The only light afforded the room she assumed was his bedroom was the light from the main living area, sneaking in because she had opened the door. She saw him in this soft light as he lay back on the bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, his feet still on the floor. She felt sorry for him, for some strange reason. He seemed extremely tired, and older than his actual years.
She also knew she was tired, almost as tired as he.
“Where did you go earlier?” she asked.
“Your father and brothers are home,” he said by way of answer. He moved his arm from his face to stare up at her, although he remained on the bed.
“Am I to leave now?” she asked softly, moving into the room. “Are they coming here to get me, or something?”
He sat up, stared right into her pretty green eyes and thought of how much he wanted her to stay with him. He didn’t want her to go. Ever. That was a dangerous thought. “Do you want to go there tonight? I told them you were sleeping, and I’d take you over in the morning. Don’t you think that’s a good plan?”
She continued quietly into his room, her shoeless feet padding softly on the wooden floor before she sat beside him on the bed. Her shoulders sagged. He watched her intently as her fingers moved over a design on his quilt and she remarked, “I’m afraid to go there.” Looking up slowly she asked, “Is Maureen there?”
Ian reached for her hand to stop the movement over the bedspread, and held it tightly in his. Butterflies flew around her stomach at his touch. Never before had a man, a boy, anyone, made her feel this way. She wasn’t even sure she could describe what she felt. She felt anxiety, hope, want, need, longing and desire.
She stared at the top of his head, because his gaze was intent on the palm of her hand, which he had turned over in his, cradling it in one of his hands. With his other hand, he took his index finger and traced patterns on her palm just as she had traced patterns on the counterpane. She thought she might melt into a puddle. His touch was electric, fire, yearning, hope, security, love, lust—and everything in between. The touch of his finger sent a wave of passion from her hand to her heart, down her spine.
She wanted this man. It wasn’t merely his physical being, his beauty, his warmth, his kindness that she desired. It was everything all together, taken as a whole. Was this what it was like to finally feel like a woman, instead of being a girl?
The butterflies in her stomach continued to zing and fly around, moving from her stomach to her chest to her throat. She wondered if he had heard her question about Maureen, and was about to ask again, when, without looking up from his task, he said, “She’s not there any longer. Your father isn’t married to her now. You don’t have to fear her ever again.” He looked at her face, but she was now looking at their hands. He kept her hand in his, and with his free hand, he brushed his fingertips down the side of her face, tracing the soft line of her chin, lowering it to lightly dust the curve of her neck.
She shivered. Goose bumps formed on her arms. He leaned forward, his hand moving to the back of her neck, to pull her closer. He wanted to kiss her. Showing ultimate restraint, he placed his forehead next to hers. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”
She moved her face slightly to peer in his eyes. “HERE?” she said in a strangled voice.
He knew she had misunderstood as soon as he heard her raised voice. He meant at his house, not in his room. He wouldn’t laugh at her innocence, though. He found it refreshing. He craved it. He had been so cynical, and had felt so old for so long. He felt so much older than his years.
He brushed her hair behind her ear. Smiling, he rephrased his question, and whispered in the same ear, “Would you like to go back upstairs to the guestroom, and get a good night sleep, before you face everyone tomorrow morning?”
She nodded quickly. He stood up slowly and pulled her to her feet. He kept her hand in his and led her out of the room. He looked down at her. She still seemed pensive and uneasy.
“Anna?” he asked. He placed his hands on her shoulders. Being who and what he was, he sensed her unease. He sensed her apprehension. He didn’t know the cause of it, but he knew it was there. There was nothing he wanted more than to comfort her, reassure her, and keep her from harm. “You’re safe here, you know. You really are.” He couldn’t promise her that she would always be safe, but at least she was tonight.
She stared at the third button on his blue shirt. It had a thread hanging off it. She kept her gaze on this button, not able to look up into his eyes while her stomach still fluttered. “I know.” Then she swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Then what are you thinking of?” he asked, although he knew. He knew.
“I thought you were going to kiss me,” she answered honestly.
Urging her face upwards with one hand under her chin, he smiled at her. “I was. Maybe I still will. What do you think of that?”
She thought that she wasn’t safe here after all, and, stealing a glance up at Ian, she couldn’t have cared less.