Butterfly Bayou (Butterfly Bayou 1)

“Armie, please.”

“I thought you liked ‘Sheriff’ when you’re working.”

“I’m off the clock. Hence the lack of a uniform.”

She flushed a pretty pink. “That makes it worse. I got you out of bed to deal with my irrational fears.”

“They’re not irrational. It’s a new place and you’re from the city. The bayou can be daunting at first.”

She sank down to one of the four chairs around the small round kitchen table. “Oh, trust me, the panic I felt was irrational, and worse, it’s absolutely not who I want to be. I’m very sorry I got you out of bed. I’ll be all right now. The dog can stay here with me until I figure something out.”

It did not surprise him at all that she would be hard on herself. He sat down at the small kitchen table. It was covered with a plastic tablecloth that looked like it had been there since the seventies. It was definitely not the kind of décor he saw her using, but then, he was having a hard time seeing her in this house at all. There was an air of neglect that clung to the place, and she wasn’t a woman who neglected things. It took her a moment, but she found a small bowl and filled it with water.

“We have a vet but his office is about thirty minutes away. He runs a small shelter.” He watched her as she managed to find a can opener. He would offer to do it all for her, but she needed control. It had been stripped from her by fear, and she needed to get it back. He could understand that. “He can help you rehome the boy. You should do that soon or you know what will happen.”

She frowned and scooped a couple of spoonfuls of the wet food into a separate bowl. “I can’t have a dog. I work long hours.”

She got to one knee and Peanut was right there. His tail was wagging like crazy as he wolfed down those bites and looked back up to her for more.

“You also work in a place where no one will question you having a dog at the office.” He didn’t hate the idea of Peanut staying with her. He might not be much of a guard dog, but he was big enough to scare off people who didn’t know how easily he could be manipulated by beef jerky. “I think he’s still hungry.”

She gave the pup a pat on the head. “He’s been starving. I can see his ribs. I’ve got to go slow or he’ll make himself sick. He can have a bit more in an hour or so. The good news is he seems to have managed to not get fleas. I bet his owner kept him up to date on his medications.”

“I’m pretty sure the neighbors helped Bill out. Angie or Seraphina would come out here a couple of times a week to see if Bill needed anything. Roxanne had dinner with him at least once a week and I tried to make sure someone could drive him to his appointments.”

“So he wasn’t all alone?” she asked, her voice turning wistful. “I wondered how hard it was for him to have his kids and his wife gone. I wondered how it felt to be the last one of his family. I know his kids weren’t dead, but I don’t think they called or spent much time with him.”

“I think it was like a lot of families, especially ones from around here. The boys grew up and left town. They married and now they’re caught up in their own families. Between the miles and responsibilities, they didn’t get down here much. I think Bill spent Christmas with his oldest last year. Don’t think too unkindly of them. It can be hard to have so much distance.”

“I can think a lot of things about those kids. Men. They’re men now. And fathers,” she said with a frustrated sigh. “They should know better. That was one of the hardest parts of my job, having to tell a patient no one is coming for them.”

Peanut finally gave up, seeming to understand that pitiful doggy eyes weren’t going to move the new girl. He walked through the kitchen, sniffing and reacquainting himself with the home he’d always known. Lila moved to the table and sank down into the chair closest to him.

“You won’t have that problem here.” There were some good things about living in a small town. “If you have a patient who needs something, all you have to do is call me. I’ll make arrangements. Someone will be up there.”

“Because you’re a family?”

“We misfits have to stick together,” he said. “Are you feeling better now? More settled?”

She nodded. “I’m fine. Like I said, this is not who I normally am. Normally I would have gotten a baseball bat and charged in. I’m more used to being angry than afraid, but since . . .”