“If it was just money we wanted, boy, we’d have taken it from the Texans.” She spat out the word “Texans” as if it tasted foul.
“Which we offered from the kindness of our hearts,” Ethan said with a sugar-sweet smile on his face. It was spoiled slightly by the dab of meringue on his lip.
“If we, the residents of Lake Howling, don’t raise the money for the project ourselves, then we will not be as invested in it,” Dr. McBride said.
“Right, of course,” Ryan said, totally at sea. Money usually fixed most things, and it wasn’t often his donations were turned down.
“I’ll play there, if you like,” he said.
“We’ll see,” HRH said, as if he hadn’t just offered something most people would pay a great deal for. “We have already tentatively booked the Brook band, as the locals like them.”
Which suggested they wouldn’t like his band. Ryan had the sudden urge to explain to HRH just who he was. Shooting Ethan another look, he noted the man was shaking his head, so he kept his mouth shut.
“I think Ryan is quite a big deal, Henrietta,” Dr. McBride said. “We’d be incredibly honored if he did play in our new facility. In fact, I think it would be a huge draw card for tourists.”
HRH didn’t look convinced. “I can’t abide music so loud you cannot identify the lyrics because they’re being roared at you,” she muttered.
“Ryan’s band is not like that,” Branna defended him. “They played at the American Music Awards last year, Henrietta.”
“So did that man who talks and thinks it should be called music,” she snapped back.
Ryan was fairly sure she meant one of the top rap artists of their time.
“I prefer a nice brass band.”
Ethan made a choking noise again and then coughed as the pie crust got caught in his throat.
“Chew your food, Ethan!” HRH snapped.
The Texan made another pained sound from the kitchen; everyone ignored him. Ryan checked he was still breathing before looking once more at HRH.
“Right, well, how can I help if it’s not money or music?” Ryan said, feeling like he’d stepped into some weird reality show.
“Your mother has made great strides lately in her communication and empathy toward her fellow man,” HRH said.
Ryan remembered Faith’s words about his mother. Perhaps there was more to it. Maybe she was indeed softening. The thought seemed almost impossible to contemplate.
“The problem is, she has no wish for the new facility, even though she was outvoted in the matter,” Lizzie said. “We are halfway to having enough money raised to complete the project, and she’s doing what she can to block us every step of the way.”
“Millicent does not like to be outvoted,” Dr. McBride added.
“The ground was cleared, and she put a halt to anything else, stating it was the only breeding ground for that rare butterfly—which is not true, as it’s never been seen in Lake Howling, and for that matter, why would it want to breed that close to Main Street?” Lizzie sounded annoyed, not something Ryan had heard often growing up.
“Fenders Blue Butterfly,” Ellen Todd added. “They’re not city butterflies. In fact, they are usually found on prairies. I’m not sure how Millicent got that officer from the Fish andWildlifeto come in with that piece of paper stopping work on the site.”
“She’s sneaky,” HRH said, looking annoyed. “You need to speak with her. Your sister is having a child, so we didn’t want to bother her.” She looked at Ryan.
“Last week she sent out letters to residents stating she’d sue them if they supported us,” Branna said.
“Sue them how?” Ryan said, intrigued despite the fact he felt like he was wading through waist-high swamp water.
“She’s a lawyer, boy—she’ll think of something!” HRH snapped.
“She’ll do whatever it takes,” Ellen said. “She tied herself to a tree in Mrs. C’s backyard when Hank wanted to cut it down, and he’d planted it years ago. It wasn’t even a rare or interesting tree.”
“Do you mean that one he had with the fat green leaves that dropped in their gutters every year?” Ethan asked. “I would have cut that down.”
Ryan laughed then because he couldn’t hold it back. Only in Lake Howling would a book club run the town.