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A knock on the screen door interrupted their conversation. Maggie looked up, and there stood Austin Macon. The women were in full view, sitting at a table eating, and his discomfort was palpable.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Macon?”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, visibly contrite. “I wanted to tell you I was back on your land before I went through the woods to find my car.”
“Austin Macon?” Calista asked. She stood up and went to the door. “No way. What are the chances!”
“Calista Theriot?”
Beautiful Calista, the same one from Catholic high school, still had the power to sweep Austin off his feet. Standing with the screen between them, desire radiated between the couple, obvious to the women.
“This is too coincidental,” Maggie said. “How do you two know each other?”
“I’m originally from Cypress Cove,” Austin said.
“Same Catholic school,” Calista said, her knees weakening. Austin Macon was still a looker. The connection was immediate.
“Come in, Mr. Macon,” Maggie said, pushing the door open. “We’re having lunch. I have plenty if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you. I accept.”
He stepped over the threshold and all six pair of female eyes were on him. Later, Maggie said she hadn’t noticed how handsome he was when he’d scared the crap out of her in the woods.
“Have a seat.” She pointed to the chair she was sitting in, removing her plate. She’d sit on the stool.
The chatter continued while Maggie dished up lunch for Austin Macon.
“Here you go. Women’s food. Garden salad and whitefish salad and fruit salad.”
“Thank you so much. This is a perfect Lenten meal.”
“Jeez, I never even thought of it, but you’re right. No meat.”
“I never told you how sorry I am about Rodney,” Austin said to Calista.
Rodney Beaumont, killed in a fishing accident, was Calista’s late husband, the brother of Alphé.
“Oh, well, yes, thank you,” Calista replied, looking at the others. “So! Are you married?”
“Me? No, no wife or kids.”
“Girlfriend?” Katrina asked, elbowing Calista.
“Nope, not even a girlfriend.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” Aunt Elizabeth said.
The others moaned, laughing. “Don’t listen to her,” Rose said, looking around the table. “Everyone’s spoken for. Well, except for Calista.”
“You never married again?”
“No, not yet,” she said, thinking it hadn’t been that long, but not saying it, in case he was interested. “Where do you live?”
“Alexandria.”
“Oh, I thought you said Shreveport,” Maggie said.
“My office is in Shreveport, but I live in Alexandria.”
