Butterfly Bayou (Butterfly Bayou 1)

“I was in the café last night and someone called Lila an outsider and Dixie nearly took his head off,” Noelle explained. “I swear she told everyone if they had a problem with the new doc helping women leave their abusive husbands, then they should understand they weren’t welcome in her café. There were a whole bunch of old guys who shut their mouths real fast.”

Since Dixie’s was one of the only places in town to get a good breakfast, he could bet they had. It was good to know they had at least one person on their side. It didn’t solve the problem, though. “I don’t have any proof that the Petries had anything to do with the fire, and it could be a while before I do. That means Lila could be in danger. If she comes to stay with us, that means you might be in danger, too.”

“I’ll be fine, and I think they’ll think twice before coming after her in the sheriff’s home. She should stay with us.”

That was what he’d hoped she would say. And the truth of the matter was the Petries would be stupid to push it any further. He had a security system, and his house wasn’t vulnerable the way hers had been. “I’ll talk to her. Now tell me why you threw away the counselor’s letter.”

Her eyes widened and a fine flush made her skin pink. “How do you know about that?”

“Lila found it. She didn’t know what it was.”

Noelle frowned. “I wish she’d given it back to me instead of reading it.”

“Why, sweetheart? That was nothing to be ashamed of.”

“And it was also nothing to get excited about. It doesn’t mean anything. I’m going to find an online school and I’m going to get a business degree. I might look into accounting. There’s always work for accountants.”

Somehow he couldn’t see her as an accountant. “I thought you wanted to be a chemist.”

“I can’t get an advanced degree in chemistry online, not one that would get me a good job, and there’s not a lot of call for chemists in Papillon. I’m realistic, Dad. The counselor can talk all she wants, but she’s not the one who would have to figure out a way to get around campus. It’s fine here.”

“Lila thinks you might have more mobility if she changes your physical therapy.” He didn’t want to give her false hope, but he also didn’t want her to not try.

A long sigh came from his daughter’s mouth. “She wants to fix me.”

That might be the case. “I think for Lila this is a way to show she cares about you. You have to go, so why not try? After all, she’s helped you out before. After that purchase she helped you make, I’m fairly certain our electricity bill is going to double.”

The quizzical look on her face was quickly replaced with one of complete horror as she realized what he was talking about. “Dad!”

She turned her chair and stormed out.

Armie smiled as he watched her go, and he thought about how to get the two women he loved under the same roof. Maybe he could show her how good a family they could be.* * *• • •

She had nothing. Absolutely nothing. She was in her mid-thirties and she had absolutely nothing to her name. She didn’t even have a shitty trailer to call her own. How the hell had she ended up here?

She used to have nice things. Oh, she’d worn scrubs to work, but on her days off she’d worn designer clothes and one of her precious two pairs of Louboutins. She’d carried a Chanel bag she’d scrimped and saved for. The apartment she’d shared with Brock had been beautifully furnished. She’d left most of that behind when she’d left him, but she’d thought somewhere down the line she might fix up her dumpy bayou home.

And it hadn’t been so dumpy. In the beginning it had seemed like a trash heap, but slowly she’d found small treasures—books she’d wanted to read, records to listen to, a book of recipes to try. All gone.

A thumping tail told her she wasn’t completely alone. Peanut was sitting beside her, his head up, big doggy eyes staring at her like she knew what the hell she was doing. She had to buy dog food. And a bowl. And a bed. And everything. Did she even have the money for that?

“Lila? Are you all right? That was our last appointment of the day.” Mabel stood in the doorway, her purse on her shoulder. “Is Lisa coming to pick you up? Hon, you can come home with me. I might even have something that fits you.”

Only if Mabel used to be about four inches taller. She hadn’t even thought about what she’d do for clothes. She had two sets of scrubs here at the clinic. They would have to do until she could go shopping. Where would she go shopping? At least she still had a car. Not that she’d used it much lately.