49

Chandler sauntered toward her, and he stopped just out of arm's reach. "Agnes is a cat."

Elena blinked up to his face. "What?"

"Agnes is Paul's horrible, evil, mean-tempered cat that hates every human being except him. And he can't remember how much food he put in her automatic feeder, so he's afraid she's going to starve to death before he can get home."

"Oh," Elena said weakly.

Chandler smiled. "Yeah, baby, oh indeed,"

"So, we're ... driving out into a snowstorm to check on a cat who lives out in the middle of nowhere."

His nod was slow. "It looks like it."

Elena looked around. Snow was already sticking to the ground. Tree branches were coated white, lending a magical air to the already stunning vista. Like a winter wonderland. Except not wonderful, not anymore since they were not going straight home. "He lives about an hour away?" she asked weakly. An hour wasn't so bad. No reason to freak out.

"Yeah. We better hit the road if we want to get back home on time."

Elena pinched her ey