Misty had thought Slade’s chili was extreme until she’d tasted the chili cook-off’s entries. Wildcat Bluff’s residents had outdone themselves in competing for the hottest of the hot. Not only that, but they’d been creative. She’d tasted chili seasoned with jalape?os, tomatillos, onions, garlic, chili powder, and who knew what else in the clear-your-sinuses arsenal of chili verde and five-alarm chili.
Now she felt like a fire-breathing dragon. A single burst of air and she’d probably melt everything in her path. She chuckled at the thought. She took a quick swig of cold water from the bottle she held in her hand. Not that it stopped the burn, but it eased the symptoms.
As the chili cook-off wound down, she stood at the end of the line where folks had helped themselves buffet style. Not much food was left. She’d replenished sweet tea, coffee, and water. Early on folks had swarmed over the chili like ants at a picnic. Now they sat contentedly at tables, eating, drinking, and chatting with each other.
Misty was reluctant to see the benefit end. She’d had a wonderful time. She glanced around the cafeteria. Slade was in the kitchen. Trey had carried out several bags of trash. J.P. had left to find Charlene. And Hedy was off fielding any issues that might arise. Kent, Sydney, Storm, Morning Glory, and Ruby were also working the room, picking up litter, pausing to chat, and making sure the event went as smoothly as possible.
She’d met new people and enjoyed being a chili judge. When she’d handed out the awards, folks had applauded with wild enthusiasm whether they’d won or lost. There’d be photographs of smiling winners in next week’s newspaper. People were even talking about making the chili cook-off an annual event. No doubt about it, the benefit for the Wildcat Bluff Fire-Rescue animal oxygen kits was a success.
She felt humbled by the outpouring of support by local residents and businesses. Every last bite had been a donation. Large numbers of local folks, along with many out-of-towners, had turned out to pay their five dollars and scarf down the chili and fixings.
She didn’t know how much money had been collected, but she thought there’d be enough to buy plenty of animal oxygen kits with some funds left over for other fire-rescue needs. She felt proud of her small part in making this event happen. Soon animals caught in dangerous situations would stand a much better chance of survival in this county.
All in all, she’d discovered she liked everything about Wildcat Bluff. She could never have imagined that change of heart back in Dallas. Small town. Country folks. Cowboy firefighters. Who knew they lived such wonderful, warm, fulfilling lives? And were such generous people? If she were stranded on a desert island, these were the folks she’d want with her—and in particular a cowboy named Trey.
She felt an itch between her shoulder blades that meant somebody was watching her. She turned around, expecting to see Trey. Instead, J.P. and Charlene walked toward her. Both were turned out in their usual Texas chic. She’d yet to see Charlene in anything other than skirts and high heels. Most people at the event had dressed comfortably casual with cowboy boots.
“What a fabulous event.” Charlene smiled with plump, crimson lips. “Just had to stop by and tell you so.”
“Thank you. Glad you could join us.” Misty glanced at J.P. “And you made a great judge. I needed your expertise in making decisions.”
“I’ve whipped up a batch of chili or two in my time.”
“He’s being modest,” Charlene said. “He’s won numerous awards for his chili.”
“Guess it’s a good thing for the winners you didn’t enter the contest,” Misty teased with a smile.
“Lots of fine competition,” J.P. said modestly.
“Well, we’re heading out,” Charlene added, “so just wanted to thank you.”
“Appreciate your support.” Misty wished she’d been able to warm to the couple, but there was just something about them that left her cold.
“Glad to help out.” J.P. turned to go.
Charlene hesitated, then stepped closer. “I was just wondering. Did you ever hear how that fire got started?”
“The Texas Timber tree farm?”
“I guess that’s the one.”
“Doubt they’ll ever know for sure.” Misty glanced from one to the other, wondering at their interest. But the fire had probably been the talk of the town.
“That’s the way of fires,” J.P. said.