Hot Touch (22 page)

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Authors: Deborah Smith

BOOK: Hot Touch
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“You don’t know us very well yet,” Riva told her. “And we don’t know you. But we
want
you to be part of the family. It’s a good family. You’ll see.”

Caroline looked up woozily at the man who still held her so protectively. “I have you.”

He nodded, his eyes reassuring her with their strength and calmness. “And now you’ve got a whole bunch of other Cajuns, too, eh? Let’s go see some scrapbooks.”

Caroline sat stiffly on an old divan with Paul next to her. She kept turning her flushed face toward the cooling breeze from an open window nearby. She felt like the center of attention at a celebrity roast.

Only she was the stand-in for the real guests of honor, her mother and father, and the speeches were being given by relatives who told loving anecdotes, not jokes.

But it did no good. She felt hollow, a breathing, nodding, listening mannequin whose only clear thought was that the scene and the words couldn’t be real. The stories she heard didn’t register because the shock was still too great.

Her parents were distant, blurred figures who’d lost their well-defined shape in her imagination. She kept trying to rearrange them into believable new images—her father brash, proud, and ambitious but also incredibly decent and loving, her mother impetuous and naive but favored with a special sort of warmth that compelled devotion from everyone who knew her.

It couldn’t be done. They were lost to her by too many years of anger and pain.

Caroline looked wearily at an uncle or cousin or something—she couldn’t keep track anymore—who was talking about her father’s attempts to learn Cajun French just to please his new wife. She concentrated as hard as she could, but his words had no effect on her shell-shocked emotions.

Jacque, who sat majestically in the middle of the crowd, his lanky body folded into a creaky chair, suddenly pounded the armrest. “What you doin’?” he shouted, frowning. “Get away from that window!”

Caroline glanced distractedly over her shoulder. All her senses snapped back to life.

Apples?
the old mule asked, his grizzled gray lips flapping comically as he tried to nibble her sleeve.
Apples? I missed you. Where have you been?

“Get out of that window, Otis!” Jacque got up and strode over, flapping his arms. Otis snorted and withdrew quickly.

Caroline held her breath and twisted on the divan to peer after the mule.
Otis? How do you know me?

He stood outside, looking up at her with huge, hopeful dark eyes.
Apples
, he repeated firmly.
When I was small. You know when I hurt. You know when I sad. You give apples
.

Caroline dimly realized that her grandfather was wiping mule saliva off the sleeve of her dress.

“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “He hasn’t done that in years. Your
maman
taught him to stick his head in the window.”

Caroline latched onto the divan’s armrest with one shaking hand and turned to look at Paul. He straightened anxiously when he saw the expression on her face.

“Caro? What’s wrong?”

Her eyes never leaving Paul’s, she asked her grandfather. “Did my mother feed Otis apples?”

Jacque chuckled, obviously relieved by her lack of annoyance. “All the time. I got him the year before she married your papa. He was just six months old, and she treated him like a baby.” His hands halted on her sleeve. “How did you know about the apples?”

Understanding came into Paul’s gaze. His lips parted in a stunned smile. “Tell them, Caro.”

She turned slowly to look into Jacque’s bewildered expression. “Did my mother have a … a way with animals?”

His mouth dropped open. Caroline heard gasps from others in the room. Suddenly Jacque grabbed her arms. “You’ve got it too! You’ve got
la touche chaude
. The hot touch. She could touch an animal or even just look at it and tell you what it was thinking!”

Caroline looked at her relatives’ excited faces. “You all believe that? Really? You didn’t think she was making it up?”

“I saw her tell ’gators which way to crawl, and they’d do it!” one said.

“Wild birds would land on her hands!” another added.

Riva stood up proudly. “When Michelle went to Connecticut to meet your papa’s family, she got in a terrible fight with somebody who was mean to a cat. I’ll never forget how upset she was when she told me about it. She said the cat told her awful things about being pinched and stuff.”

Caroline clutched Paul’s hand. “That was Grandmother Fitzsimmons’ cat.” She looked at her grandfather again. “What did you call it? Her talent?”


La touche chaude,
” he repeated hoarsely, smiling. “The hot touch.”

Breathing raggedly, she turned toward Paul. He leaned forward and kissed her. The love in his eyes released tears that slid down her face and over her bittersweet smile. “I’m not alone,” she whispered brokenly.

There were tears in his eyes too. Around them people were crying openly. Her grandfather put one big, angular hand on her head and stroked awkwardly.

“You never have been, petite,” he murmured. “You just didn’t know it.”

The canopy of oaks at Grande Rivage arched over
them like adoring friends. Caroline cradled Paul’s hand in hers as they walked up the road. The old mansion sat at the end, looking more beautiful than a run-down place in need of her loving attention had a right to look.

Caroline laughed softly. “Wonderful.”

“Talking to some animal I don’t see?” Paul teased. He put his arm around her and drew her to him.

Caroline looked up into his face and didn’t speak for a moment, enjoying the rush of pleasure she felt when she lost herself in his eyes.

“Thank you for indulging my need to walk,” she whispered. They’d left the Corvette near the end of the driveway.

Paul caressed her face tenderly. “It’s been a long, strange day. The walk feels good.” He cupped her chin in one hand and studied her face. “How are you,
chère
?
The truth.”

“Better,” she said in a thoughtful tone. “Much better than I’ve ever been in my life. And peaceful.”


Bien
.” Stepping back, he took her hands in his and looked at her with a quiet intensity that sent tingles up her spine. “Mademoiselle Caroline, will you marry a Cajun veterinarian who doesn’t care about being rich or living fancy but who’ll love you like no other man on the face of the earth?”

Caroline squinted at the trees overhead as if thinking. “I believe I’m as smart as my mother,” she said finally. “I know what’s important.” She looked at Paul so raptly that he began to smile.

“Say it,” he whispered.

She brought his hands to her lips. “I’ll marry you,” she answered, kissing them. “You’re my lifemate and I’ll never want anyone else.”

They stood in the driveway a long time, just holding each other. Long golden shadows slanted through the oaks when she and Paul finally walked into the yard, savoring every moment of a glorious fall sunset.

Wolf and Lady rose from a cushion on the veranda. They crossed the lawn, tails wagging, and Lady pranced a little. Caroline gasped softly and began to laugh.

“What?” Paul asked.

She stopped and took his hands. “We’re going to be godparents.”


Bien
!” He looked at Wolf and Lady with an approving smile. “You’re trying to set a good example for us to follow, yes?”

Caroline smiled through tears of joy. “It’s their way of giving us an engagement present.”

Paul put his arm around her, and together they watched Wolf come forward alone. He stopped in front of them and gazed from Paul to her, his dark silver eyes gleaming with a contentment that spoke to the center of her heart.

No more sadness. Welcome home
.

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