She stood there thinking through that week’s appointments for who knows how long before she realized this was not the time for it. Lila Mae was getting better at time management and organization, but she still found herself getting overwhelmed pretty easily, as opening a cat sanctuary and feline rescue sounded really easy on paper. After all, it was only a few words.
But in reality, Lila Mae had needed permits and proper enclosures. She needed documentation, and she had to register as a business or a nonprofit. She had to have proper paperworkfor adoptions and surrenders. She had to have salaries for employees.
And apparently she’d moved to Three Rivers at one of the worst times a person could: summertime.
There had been three or four cases of heatstroke documented in town already, and she got daily notices on her phone about staying hydrated, wearing sunscreen, getting outdoor chores done early in the morning, and calling for help sooner than she thought she might need it. Water stations had been set up around town, and she’d seen them simply sitting on the corners in neighborhoods and all around the parks.
About the only thing Lila Mae had going for her was the unlimited supply of cat food she had at the sanctuary. Her family owned Dixon’s Delights, a world-renowned cat food brand that did over five hundred million dollars annually in the pet business. Her oldest brother had just taken over as CEO, and Lila Mae had left her position at the company to come halfway across the country and start a cat sanctuary.
She knew her brothers didn’t understand, and her parents didn’t either, but Lila Mae had used all the words she knew to try to explain it to them, finally coming to the conclusion that they didn’t have to understand. She had dreams and aspirations of her own, and had been blessed with the good health and fortune to do it.
They dedicated their lives to putting food in cans and plastic containers and bags. Why was dedicating hers to saving abandoned animals any worse?
Lila Mae shook the thoughts out of her head and turned to leave the bathroom. She returned to the kitchen area of the church and took a deep breath as she observed the chaos there.
“What else do you need?” she asked.
“We need more potato chips,” someone called, and Lila Mae stepped over to the table.
“I’ve got them,” she said, and she picked up three bags and headed outside.
The heat hit her like a wall, as Lila Mae was also not quite used to the humidity found here in the Panhandle. By the time she arrived at the buffet table only twenty feet away, her bangs had become plastered to her forehead. She managed to put the potato chips out without causing a scene, and then turned to go back inside.
Trap came out as she approached, and he carried a casserole dish with perfectly browned biscuits on the top.
“Wow, those are pretty,” she said. “What is that?”
“Chicken pot pie casserole,” he said. “Have you ever had it?”
“No, sir.”
“It’s really good,” he said. “And this is from the Eagles. She made three or four pans of it, and I already snagged myself a piece.”
“Oh, can we do that?” she asked. “Just get what we want from the kitchen?”
Trap gave her a side-eye. “We can when we’ve been volunteered against our will.” With that, he moved by her, and Lila Mae turned and watched him go. She focused herself much quicker this time and went inside, taking the next direction.
After only a few more trips, Sally, the activities director at the church, told her, “You’re all done, Lila Mae. Go get some food.”
“Thank you so much. Can I get you anything?” she asked.
Sally picked up a plate of cherry pie. “I’ve been eating the whole time, honey.”
Lila Mae giggled with her, realizing that Trap had been right. Everyone in the kitchen seemed to have what they wanted, and Lila Mae hurried outside to the table, where the crowd had thankfully died down.
She picked up a plate and started through the line, wishing she could take a little bit of everything and get a history lesson onit, as well as an ingredients list. The pimento cheese was gone, and she’d have to enjoy some another day.
She’d actually found a cute little bistro next to the courthouse on Main Street, and they served an English high tea every day, Southern-style. She’d had her first pimento finger sandwich there and a dandelion tea that had left her mouth wanting more.
She managed to get a little bowl of the fried-chicken salad and half of a biscuit from the chicken pot pie casserole, as well as some cheesy, bacony tater tots, and a healthy slice of Texas sheet cake. She picked up a fork and a napkin and turned to face the vast array of tables and tents.
She’d been in town for a month, but she didn’t know very many people, as Lila Mae wasn’t exactly outgoing, and she’d rather work with pets over people. She knew her single employee, but she didn’t see Scarlett anywhere, and she knew a couple of the Walkers, as she lived on their ranch.
Unfortunately—or fortunately?—for her, her eyes landed solidly on Trap himself. He sat at a table only two back, and he had a spot on the end next to him.
Lila Mae’s heart pounded in her chest, sprinting through her veins and making her head feel lighter than ever. Combined with the heat, she knew she needed to get off her feet, and fast. So she started toward him.
The man next to him saw her coming first, and he nudged Trap with his elbow. Trap glared at him and then swung his attention toward her. His eyes narrowed slightly, and she wasn’t sure why the man didn’t like her. She’d paid him a lot of money to assess the property she’d bought, and he still had months of construction to go.
