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“He gave up on me.”
My heart plummeted. I sucked in a shaky breath, refusing to cry. But the twisting pain inside my chest was almost unbearable. The thought that he was letting me go felt like being smothered slowly. I was breathless with longing and soul-shaking sorrow.
A strange, wailing noise came to me then. At first, I thought it was my imagination, my soul screaming like a forlorn banshee across the sugarcane field behind the Tractor Supply store. But then I heard it again.
Opening my car door, I realized it wasn’t a wail but more like a hoarse squeal. I followed the sound up to the edge of the cane field, where I realized it was coming from the ditch on the side of the road. Taking a few more steps to the ditch, I gasped.
“Marigold?”
The giant pig was stuck in six inches of water and a thick slough of mud at the bottom of the ditch. Hoof marks scraped along the side, slicking the walls of the ditch around her. She’d tried to get out but had tired and was now firmly embedded in the mud.
I couldn’t even see her legs, the mud reaching up to her wide belly.
She made that near-soundless squeal again, her body visibly quivering. From shock or the cold, I wasn’t sure. The temperatures had dropped into the forties this past week, and there was no telling how long she’d been stuck here. She had apparently gone hoarse crying out for help. It was tearing at my heart.
“Hang on there, baby!”
I punched in 9-1-1 and paced along the ditch’s edge till someone finally picked up.
“Beauville Police Department, what is your emergency?”
“The pig! She’s in the ditch over here.”
“Excuse me, ma’am? Can you repeat that?”
“The Facebook pig. Marigold. Mr. Guillory’s pig that went loose.”
“And where was she spotted, ma’am?”
“No, she wasn’t spotted. I’m looking at her. She’s stuck in the ditch by the Tractor Supply. I think she’s hurt.”
“I see. I need to get your information, ma’am Your name?”
“You need to get someone down here. I think she’s in shock or something.”
“I have an officer on the way. Let me get your information now, please.”
I spat out everything she needed for whatever crazy-ass reason. I wasn’t lying and I wasn’t going to vanish before the cops got here. I could never leave her alone. By the time I hung up with the dispatcher, I could see the police unit approaching in the distance.
Marigold made that pathetic cry again.
“Someone’s coming to help. Just hang on, girl.”
While I was waving frantically, there was no need. The officer swerved into the lot and came straight toward me, parking right next to my car.
When he stepped out, I recognized him. It was the same officer who let me off that speeding ticket the morning of Bennett’s grand opening.
Bennett.
My heart twisted.
As the officer approached, I saw recognition in his gaze.
“Miss Mouton,” he said with a nod and headed straight over to the ditch in long strides.
“Officer Dugas. You remember my name?”
Because that was an excellent memory.
