A stray cat wandered into my yard one evening at dusk. She cautiously approached me, where I sat on the back deck with my dog and my elderly cat. When I saw that she was badly injured, I made her comfortable and determined I would take care of her in her final days. The end didn’t roll around for another 17 years.

One of the quirks about living in a small town is that if you utter the words, “I might get a cat,” you’ll end up with one by suppertime. 

Before I even thought about visiting the local shelter to adopt another kitty, a friend told me that a cat had taken up residence under a chair on the front porch of a house on the edge of town that her secretary had recently purchased. Although the woman’s little boys loved him, her husband and their dog didn’t, so I agreed to go get him.

He was beautiful, with big blue eyes, a pure white coat, and a pink nose. Weighing about 15 pounds, he was confident, smart, sociable, and even protective. After a couple of weeks, he felt secure enough to make it clear to my McNab that he was in charge.

About six years later, when the cat was about eight- or nine-years old, his health rapidly declined. Frustrated with the veterinarian’s inability to pinpoint a cause, I brought him to another clinic. On our first visit, the new vet took x-rays. What they revealed was shocking.

Sometime before my friend’s secretary bought her house, someone had fired a shotgun at this cat at close range. Perhaps as many as 50 pellets were still lodged in his body. His organs were failing from lead poisoning. We kept him going with drugs and home-cooked meals for as long as we could.

If you’re an animal lover, you know the cycle. Your heart breaks. Then you bring another pet into your life, and it begins to mend. 

The spring of 2022 was chaotic for me. Escrow fell through on the sale of my house, which in turn derailed my plans to move to another state. On the heels of all of this disruption, my sweet little old Shih Tzu entered into his final slumber. But unlike before, I wasn’t sure if the joy and love I would gain from adopting another pet would outweigh the painful loss that would ultimately follow. 

I was at a turning point. For the past three years, I had been researching and writing the biography of an 18th-century British Army officer named John Hayes St. Leger (1756-1799). Although I had completed a manuscript, I knew it fell far short of articulating the charisma and mystique of the man called Handsome Jack, whom I had come to know and care about. The rewrite I was drafting was going a little better, but I had put it on hold while my house was on the market. Now I was fired up to get back to work on it. 

Thanks to Covid restrictions, I hadn’t gone to London to do research in more than two years.

I was eager to go back. However, this trip, I also planned to spend a month in York. Even though St. Leger had spent most of his life in London, he also owned a manor house and lands in Yorkshire. This was property he had inherited from his uncle, Major General Anthony St. Leger (1731/32-1786), the founder of the St. Leger Stakes. 

Jack was a lieutenant colonel in the British Army. Both he and his uncle were serving in Dublin in 1786, when Anthony suddenly died. Anthony, who had looked after his nephew since he was 15-years-old, cared deeply for him and had made the young man his primary heir. 

Despite the pleading of his friend George, Prince of Wales, Jack went to Yorkshire immediately following Anthony’s death. The Prince missed Jack desperately and wanted him to come back to London. 

But Jack wanted to be on hand during the drawn out probate process. He stayed at Park Hill Estate, his late uncle’s home in Firbeck, but he frequently traveled to York, 50 miles to the north, to meet with the agents and solicitors.

On many of those visits, he called on Anthony’s long-time friend, Tate Wilkinson (1739-1803), the York district theatre manager.

In a memoir published in 1790, Tate recalled Jack’s kindness and spoke glowingly of his admiration for the young man:

With the truly accomplished nephew of General St. Leger an intimacy I cannot boast, but can exultingly mention the honor of many favors and acts of kindness — not paid to my own deserts, but by a compliment which originated from his certain knowledge that his uncle, the late General St. Leger, was not only my patron, but honored me with his friendship. —One of the blessings I long for (during the short remainder of life) is that I may see that gentleman situated in rank and affluence equal to the Prince’s friend, and his own most sanguine expectations, accompanied with many years to enjoy that prosperity with health, spirits, and increasing happiness; let my situation be what it will, I shall always rejoice at never-fading laurels circling the brows of Colonel St. Leger. [From Tate Wilkinson, Memoirs of His Own Life in Four Volumes, Vol. I (York: Printed for the Author by Wilson, Spence, and Mawman, 1790), pp. 227-228]

My daily routine was to hole up for hours, writing and editing in my comfortable apartment on Goodramgate, located a couple of blocks from York Minster. At least once a day, I took a break and went for a long walk. Since I was in York long enough to get to know my neighborhood, it was particularly invigorating to venture into a part of town that I had not seen before.

The ancient city of York is a vibrant, breathing museum with many tales to tell. Although it had undergone many changes in the 240 years since Jack walked its streets, on every one of my excursions, my eyes beheld many of the same sights that he had seen. This included the York Theatre Royal, which had been Tate Wilkinson’s base of operations.

The theatre had a major facelift in the late 1800s, yet it is still the same basic structure.

Just across the way in the Museum Gardens, the ruins of St. Mary’s Abbey still stand. St. Leger would have seen its majestic, fragmented arches, when he stood looking out into the distance from a window in a room above the theatre lobby. Established in 1088, the Abbey was destroyed after Henry VIII disestablished it in 1569.

The magnificent York Minster Cathedral, a five-minute stroll from the old theatre, was consecrated in 1472. The adjacent Dean’s Park was one of my favorite places to relax in some shade on hot August afternoons. One day, I decided to explore the cobbled streets behind it.

I had only gone a little ways on Chapter House Street, when I saw a large Bengal cat in a window, watching the world go by. Our eyes connected, and he almost seemed to beckon me! I stopped, smiled, and took his picture. A moment later he leapt from his perch and scampered out of view.

I continued a short distance on the cobblestone street, to where Chapter House angles to the right and becomes Ogleforth. There was a broad, short tunnel here, carved into a white edifice. As I looked through it, I realized that this unassuming gateway provided access to the luxurious Grays Court Hotel.

When I turned around to go back to Dean’s Park, I was surprised to see the Bengal cat sitting on the sidewalk. He stared at me as I approached. Evidently, he had jumped off the table in the window to come outside and introduce himself! 

I had come to York resolved to make good progress on my book about John Hayes St. Leger and to find a hidden connection in York to the life of a man who had lived with purpose and compassion. When I left I was satisfied that I had accomplished my mission. But I had come away with something more. Unexpectedly, I had found a feeling of home. Along with discovering missing pieces from St. Leger’s journey, I had reconnected to long forgotten memories from my own.

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My new novel, The Man in the Way, tells the fictionalized story of John Hayes St. Leger—dashing soldier, devoted courtier, and intimate of royalty—who embarks on a life of valor shadowed by deception. From the fevered battlefields of Flanders to the treacherous courts of London, Versailles, and Madras, his unwavering principles clash with a world unraveling in chaos.

Use the link below to preorder the ebook on Amazon today. The release date for both the paperback and Kindle version is January 23, 2026! (As an Amazon Associate, I receive a commission when you use my link for your purchase.) Thank you for supporting independent authors!