Marisa Carroll - Hotel Marchand 09 (12 page)

As usual, there wasn’t much traffic on the road that skirted this portion of the Bayou Teche. In his five-mile swing through the countryside he met up with half a dozen farmers in pickups on their way to town, two beer delivery trucks and a FedEx van, and an adventurous tourist or two. Pretty easy to spot, what with their out-of-state license plates and pricey foreign cars. Still, snowbirds venturing off the well-marked Evangeline Trail this early in the season was a good sign.

Maybe the town Web site Estelle and Willis’s son-in-law, over at the Chamber of Commerce, had set up was starting to draw some hits? Get the town noticed, put Indigo and the Valois Opera House on the path to fame and fortune as a tourist destination. At the moment, however, he was more worried about the upcoming Cajun Music Festival. He hoped the town council gave him the go-ahead—and the funds—to hire more part-time officers to beef up his force before thousands of music lovers descended on the town.

He slowed as he neared the turnoff to La Petite Maison, admiring the old house and the view of the bayou as he drove down the winding lane. He pulled into the graveled parking area at the side of the house, giving it the once-over as he backed into a turn. Sophie’s car wasn’t there, just a Volvo with Texas plates and a minivan with a Baton Rouge dealership sticker on the back panel. Two nondescript sedans appeared to be rentals. Carter had a full house for Valentine’s weekend. Good for him.

He headed back into town. Sophie had probably passed him when he had pulled into the parking area at the public access to ask Deke Slayter how the catfish were biting. Back in town he cruised down Jefferson, keeping his eyes peeled for kids and stray dogs. There weren’t too many stray dogs, but there were kids everywhere. Starting tomorrow, school was out for the rest of the week. Some kind of teacher’s convention, or something down in Baton Rogue.

It was the weekend Casey Jo had wanted to take the kids to Disney World, but he hadn’t heard anything from her in over a week so he was hoping she’d changed her mind. He could hope and pray and light candles to the Virgin that she’d stay away, but he wouldn’t be a bit surprised if she did turn up.

He pulled to the curb in front of the opera house and looked in the front window of Past Perfect. Sophie’s car was in its parking place but the store was closed up. Movement in the distance caught his attention and he saw her walking across the square from the direction of Maude’s house. She was wearing the same sky-blue blouse she’d had on when he’d seen her earlier at the diner, but now he was treated to the sight of her swingy, dark-blue, calf-length skirt clinging to her legs and rounded hips in all the right places. He climbed out of the SUV and leaned one hip against the hood, watching her from behind the mirrored lenses of his sunglasses. Lord help him, she was a good-looking woman and he wanted her to be his.

“Alain,” she said as she crossed the street and walked up to him. “I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”

“Quiet afternoon.” He fell into step beside her as she climbed the low steps of the opera house.

“Beautiful afternoon,” she amended. “I went for a walk after lunch and ended up at Maude’s. Now that I’ve got the store under control, it’s time I decided what to do with her house.” She pushed her hand into the pocket of her skirt, drawing his eye to the enticing V at the top of her legs. He jerked his gaze back to eye level as she inserted the key into the deadbolt.

“Have any ideas?” he asked, holding open the door so she could precede him into the building.

“Nothing specific.” She took off the white sweater she’d worn draped over her shoulders and hung it on a hook behind the counter. “I have to go through everything first. Decide what to keep, what to sell, what to give away. Then I’ll talk to a Realtor. Maybe I’ll rent it out for a year or so. Maybe I’ll put a for sale sign on it right away. I’ve had one or two people tell me they might be interested in it.”

Suddenly he knew he was one of those people. Not for him and the kids. It was too small. But for his mother. She’d always liked Maude’s house. A doll’s house she’d called it. She could be comfortable there. And what about her big old house on Lafayette Street? He could buy it from her. It was a good house for raising a family. He’d been happy growing up in it. His kids were happy living there. Would Sophie be happy there, too?

Lord, was he that far gone already? An hour ago he hadn’t felt he could buy her a single damned rose for Valentine’s Day, and now he was thinking about buying her a house? What about his vow not to get involved again until the kids were grown and on their own? It seemed he didn’t have any qualms about breaking that one, either.

“Alain? Are you going to stand there letting in flies all afternoon?”

“What?” It was the teasing lilt in her voice that brought him back from his thoughts.

“Come inside and close the door. You’re letting in flies and dust. Do you know how long it takes to dust this place? Do you want to learn?”

“All right. All right. I get the point.” He turned and shut the door very carefully and very quietly.
He was in love with her
. That’s all there was to it. He could sidestep, split hairs; tell himself it was only lust, psychic residue, unfinished business, not
love,
but he’d be lying, and deep down inside he knew it. He loved her. Had always loved her in some form or another, and it wasn’t going to go away.

But if he didn’t make his move soon, she damned well might.

“S
OPHIE
we have to talk.”

She turned her head. He was standing with his feet planted wide, his hands folded across his waist. Her heart rate kicked up a notch or two. Lord, what was it about a man in a uniform? Or was it just this particular man in a uniform that made her want to stare at him all day and lie with him all night? She didn’t even have to think about that one. It was the man who fascinated her, not what he wore.

“Yes, Alain?” What did he want to talk to her about? Did he want to ask her out for Valentine’s Day? A date? She wouldn’t object. Maybe he would kiss her again. She wouldn’t object to that, either. She’d been thinking about his kisses for the last two days. And about more than kisses ever since the fireworks display was brought up at the meeting. The first time she’d made love with Alain had been after the Fourth of July fireworks that long-ago summer. She would never forget it. She wanted to make love like that again, in the backseat of his car, all heat and light and fiery passion.

She wanted to make love with Alain again—soon. But not in the middle of the showroom. “Come on back. I have some more shuffling to do. The appraiser suggested I send the fainting couch and one or two other pieces to a dealer in New Orleans. She thinks I can double the asking price if I do that and Hugh’s niece agrees.” The woman had also suggested she send the Delacroix fiddle but she’d told her no. Not until she was certain Alain really didn’t want it. She would have told him that, but she didn’t think he’d come to talk about inventory.

She stepped into the auditorium and walked to the foot of the stairway leading to the private box. Once there, she needed something to do with her hands. She picked up one of the funny little overpriced stuffed animals that so intrigued Dana. “I’m afraid I’ve misplaced one of these toys your grandmother’s cousin makes. You know, the one in Canada?”

“I’ve never met any of my Canadian cousins,” he said. “And I don’t know anything about one that makes stuffed animals. But then my mother has over two dozen first cousins alone. I can’t even remember all their names, let alone the seconds and thirds up in Canada.”

“Evidently this cousin makes these stuffed animals, ships them down and Maude sells…sold them for her. I guess she has a following here in Indigo.” Sophie looked at the poor lopsided little frog, wondering, as she always did when she stopped to think about it, who would pay eighty dollars for such a misshapen creature?

“Dana has about a hundred stuffed animals, but Mom and
Mamère
Yvonne never mentioned anything about some of them being made by relatives in Canada.”

“They’re awfully pricey for children’s toys. There’s a bear in this batch that has a price tag of four hundred and seventy-five dollars.”

“A stuffed bear?” That figure caught his attention. “You’re right. That’s way too pricey. Especially to let Dana play with.” He had moved to stand beside her. She didn’t turn around, but she could feel the heat of his body on her arm and shoulders, and it warmed parts of her that she’d ignored for years.

She steadied herself before she spoke again. “Your mom said it was probably a misprint on the label. She said she’d try and notify the people who ordered them. I’ve decided to put them out on display anyway. There aren’t any names on the tags, no invoice with the shipment, so I have no way of knowing who they were meant to be for. Maybe people will see them in the window and contact me.”

“That sounds reasonable,” he said, then seemed to sense her agitation. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What? Nothing.” She picked up one or two animals, searching for the bear. “That’s odd,” she said, glad to have found a reason for her distraction that didn’t involve sex. “I can’t seem to find it. The teddy bear. It’s not here.”

He reached out and covered her hand with his. “We’ll look for it later,” he said in that smoky tone of voice that sent her insides quivering with want and need.

She dropped the frog among its companions. “Later,” she agreed. “He probably fell out of the box when we were shifting everything around. He’ll turn up under a seat or something. I’ll give Guy and his buddies a couple of flashlights and send them bear-hunting the next time they show up.”

“Good idea.” He gave her arm a gentle tug, turning her to face him. “Sophie we need to talk about us.”

She wasn’t going to play coy. Him. Them.
Us.
It was all she thought about—at least in the dark, quiet hours of the night when she should have been asleep. “I don’t know what you want to hear,” she said truthfully.

“Did you mean what you said at the diner? That you’re going back to Houston?”

“I want to see my grandparents. And there’s my job and the expense. Luc’s giving me a great rate at the B&B but I can’t afford to stay there much longer. Especially now that he’s starting to bring in real customers.”

“Don’t go back to Houston,” he urged her, his voice smoky and rough. “Stay here. Give us a chance.”

“A chance for what, Alain?” Her head was spinning and she realized she was holding her breath. She let it out, pulled air back into her lungs.

“This, for one thing.” He bent his head to kiss her as he had in the cupola. But this time it was no gentle exploration. It was a taking, a claiming. He pulled her tight against him and she let herself go willingly. He was strong and hard and fitted her body in all the right places, just as she remembered. He increased the pressure of his mouth against hers, urging her to open to him. She did, welcomed him as their tongues mimicked a more intimate joining.

When the kiss was over she clung to him, too dazed to pull away. This was right. It was good. She had always liked the way he kissed but she had forgotten the full effect he had on her. Her knees were weak; her ears rang. She wanted to hold him so tight she sank into him and they became one.
Just as it had always been,
she admitted deep in her heart.
Just as it would always be
.

He stroked her hair with his big hand, held her face against his shirt. He smelled of soap and fabric softener—and Alain. “Don’t go,” he repeated, and she heard his voice shake. “Stay here. With me.”

She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. But she was no longer a starry-eyed teenager, or a bereft young woman betrayed by the man she had unwisely chosen to take his place in her heart. She was an adult, with obligations and commitments. “It’s not that easy, Alain. Not anymore.”

“Sophie, I—”

A shaft of panic arrowed through her. She lifted her head, put her fingers to his lips. “Don’t go too fast for me, Alain, please.”

He brushed his fingers across her cheek, searched her face with his deep-blue eyes. He sighed. “Promise me you’ll come back. Soon. So we can talk. Work out a plan.”

“What kind of plan?”

“For our happily ever after.”

“Oh, Alain.” Her thoughts were an equal mix of pleasure and pain. She had wanted him, at some level, for so long but was it too late now? Were their lives on divergent paths, impossible to bring together?

“I know I shouldn’t say this here and now, but I’m going to before I lose my nerve. We’ve sidestepped what’s between us for too long. Sophie, I—” Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard the front door open and close, voices echo through the showroom. One a child’s, Dana, laughing and excited. The other, hauntingly familiar, was a voice Sophie had hoped never to hear again.

Alain heard them, too. He stopped in midsentence, his eyes going bleak, his face hardening. Sophie’s heart was still beating fast, but no longer from passion and anticipation, but with dread.

A figure appeared in the doorway and a mocking voice drawled, “I think I walked in on this scene once before.”

Sophie took an instinctive step backward, hating herself for the spurt of guilt that rushed through her veins and sent color rising in her cheeks. How could the same embarrassing scene play itself out twice in her life? She felt as if she were one of those poor creatures who were struck by lightning a second time, even though the odds were millions to one against that happening. Alain held on to her hand, but when she tugged to be free he let her go, his mouth thinning to a straight line.

“Casey Jo, what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for our son. Your mother thought Guy might be here, but I can see she was mistaken about which one of you I’d find.” Casey Jo’s dark-rimmed, long-lashed eyes, as cold as green glass, flicked from Alain’s stony face to Sophie’s flushed one. “Ain’t this just déjà vu all over again?”

She was still as pretty as Sophie remembered, but there was a hardness to her beauty now. Her hair was streaked with blond, but dark roots showed here and there. Her cheeks were surgically sculpted; her breasts enhanced and prominently displayed beneath a clinging black sweater and skin-tight capris. She was wearing strappy black, high-heeled sandals and long, swingy silver ear hoops, and she looked as out of place in Past Perfect as she could possibly be.

“Guy is at his driver’s ed class. What are you doing here in Indigo?”

Her head came up. “You know perfectly well why I’m here. I came to take my babies to Disney World like I promised.”

“We’re going to leave first thing in the morning.” Dana was almost dancing with excitement. “I wanted to pack my suitcase right away but Grandma said no. We had to come and talk to you first.”

“Your mother wasn’t going to let me take Dana out of the house. Did you put her up to that, Alain?”

“No, Casey Jo,” he said, and his voice sounded weary, as though they had gone over this same ground countless times before.

“Well, you’d better not. I’ve never fought you for custody, but that doesn’t mean I might not change my mind if you push me too far.” Once more she let her gem-hard eyes flicker toward Sophie.

Dana was hanging on her mother’s hand, looking up into her face. She switched her gaze to Alain, her eyes, so like Casey Jo’s, pleading. “I want to go to Disney World, Daddy. I haven’t got to see Momma for so long. We’re going to have so much fun. She promised. Please.”

“I don’t know, baby,” Alain said.

Dana didn’t hear him; she had switched her attention to Sophie. “We’re going to have breakfast with the princesses in the castle and everything—Momma promised.” She repeated the words like a talisman, a magic spell that would make her dearest wish come true.

Sophie forced a smile. “That’s nice, Dana.” Her heart went out to the little girl, caught between a father she adored and relied on, and a mother who came and went in her life, but whom she also obviously loved and wanted to be with.

“I thought we’d settled this, Casey Jo,” Alain said.

“I don’t remember any such a thing,” his ex-wife retorted with a toss of her dangling earrings. “Dana wants to go and I don’t see why I shouldn’t take her. If we start this afternoon we’ll have two whole days at the park.”

“It’s a seven-hundred-mile drive.” Sophie could see Alain was trying hard to hang on to his patience for Dana’s sake. She was looking from one parent to another, the excitement in her green eyes fading into anxiety with each clipped exchange of words.

“So what? My car’s in good shape.”

The radio on Alain’s belt crackled into life. “Chief Boudreaux, come in please.”

“I’m here, Billy Paul.”

“Frank Gillette says there’s a gator come up in his yard and it’s a big one. He called the sheriff’s department, but they said they can’t get anyone out there for another hour or two. He’s afraid it might go after his dogs.”

Alain pulled the radio off his belt clip and toggled the receiver. “I’ll head out that way, but I doubt the gator’s going to go after Frank’s dogs. It’s too cold. He’s probably just sunning himself and he’ll crawl back into the swamp in another hour or two.”

“I tried telling Frank that,” came the reply. “But he’s worried about his darned old coon dogs. You know he thinks the world of those Catahoulas of his.”

“I’ll head on out that way, Frank. Call the sheriff and see if you can’t hurry his guys up a little. Boudreaux out.”

“An alligator! Daddy, can I ride with you and see it?” Dana was momentarily diverted from the subject of the disputed trip to Disney World.

“No, honey. I’m on duty. I can’t take you with me.” Dana’s lower lip jutted out. Disappointment was written all over her elfin face. “Take her home, Casey Jo. We’ll discuss the trip when I get there.”

For a moment Sophie thought Alain’s ex-wife was going to continue the argument, but she didn’t. She smiled, a cat-in-the-cream kind of smile. “Come on, Dana, honey. Let’s go pick up Grandma Marie and we’ll all go get some ice cream. How does that sound?”

Dana began to jump up and down. “I love ice cream. I want chocolate chip with whipped cream and sprinkles on top.”

“Casey Jo.” There was nothing but steel in Alain’s voice. “Take Dana straight back to my mother’s when you’re finished having ice cream.”

“I’ll take her back when we’re finished visitin’ with my mother,” she shot back.

“Don’t do anything foolish, Casey Jo,” he warned.

She batted her improbably long lashes and gave him another smile, this one full of acid and animosity. “I wouldn’t think of it, Alain.”

They watched Casey Jo and Dana depart in silence.

“Damn. I’d hoped she’d decided not to push this Florida trip. But that’s Casey Jo for you, always showing up to make life more complicated. I should have known better.” He turned to face her. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I don’t know what else to say about the way Casey Jo behaves.”

“It’s not your responsibility how she behaves. But maybe it was a good thing it happened. We were going a little too fast back down a path that landed us against a brick wall a couple of other times.”

“Sophie.” Again the radio on his belt crackled. Alain muttered a curse.

“Chief, you on your way out to Frank’s place yet?” Billy Paul asked without preamble.

“I’m leaving right now.”

“Well good. He just called back and says the gator made a charge at his dogs. I told him to shut them up in his barn but he says he don’t want the darned thing coming after him, too.”