Scarlet Lady (19 page)

“No, you have to meet with the charity-ball committee in my place. I’ve already arranged it. They need someone to help with the final plans.”

“But it’s your ball,” Cat protested.

“But Carson is my brother. And I’m still the boss around here.”

Katie was studying the map when her phone rang. She toyed with ignoring it, then decided it could be Carson. After the fifth ring she picked it up. “Hello?”

It was Montana. “Are you all right?”

Her heart raced. It was the last voice she wanted to hear, the one voice she couldn’t allow herself to respond to. “What do you want?”

“To know that you’re okay. You weren’t going to answer the phone, were you?”

He knew her too well. “No, I was—um, busy.”

“I wish you were here with me.”

“Stop talking like that. I don’t want you to—”

“Yes, you do. I can hear it in your voice. That’s the only time you’re honest, when you’re not looking at me, when I can’t touch you.” He’d meant to keep the conversation on a strictly business basis, but once he heard
her voice, that became impossible. “What are you wearing this morning, Katie?”

“I’m wearing a skirt and blouse,” she snapped.

Montana groaned. “Not that little black one you wore last night?”

“Of course not. I’m at work.”

“What color is it?”

“What difference does that make?” she snapped again.

“Tell me?”

Looking down at herself, she groaned. “It’s red,” she said. And suddenly she was back in his quarters on the
Scarlet Lady
.

She was back in his bed.

Back in his arms.

She could hear him breathing. The heavy silence between them wrapped her in memories, shared memories. She knew that he was there with her, that volumes were spoken by the pictures conjured up by words not said.

“No,” she whispered. She wouldn’t be influenced by this man. No matter that he seemed bent on coming to her rescue, on protecting her. No matter that he thought she had cheated. No matter that he didn’t laugh when she said she wanted to grow cotton.

She couldn’t let that confuse the issue. Everything had been said and done. Logically, she couldn’t be responsible for Carson any longer and soon there would be no Carithers’ Chance. And Rhett Butler Montana was totally wrong for her. But she couldn’t stop caring.

“Please,” she whispered again. “Don’t keep doing this.”

“What?”

“Talking like we … like we …”

“Like we’ve been lovers? We have. Like we belong together? I’m beginning to think we do. Ah, Katie, you can’t hide behind looking after your family forever. And I can’t pretend family isn’t important. We’ve been stripped of our defenses. This is between you and me. You may as well stop fighting it. I have.”

She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t give in to desire. Desire was temporary and she wanted so much more. “I can’t,” she managed to say. “You and I have nothing in common. You’re everything I can’t—don’t want; a man with no conscience, no roots, and no interest in commitment.”

“And you’re a woman who’s more concerned with the past than the present. You know what they say. Opposites attract. If that’s true, we’re magnetically connected.”

He was right. “The answer to that, Montana, is to avoid each other. Magnets can’t attract if they aren’t together.”

“You can fight it, darling, but in the end it’s inevitable. The fates have seen to that. You need me to get to Leon.”

“Why?”

“Because we have to go by boat.”

She’d been right. Cat had told him. “I don’t understand,” she stalled, trying to find a way out. “If there’s a
house in Louisiana, there has to be some kind of road, doesn’t there? What about Leon’s limo?”

“Don’t know about the limo. But the only way I can find to reach the hideaway is by water. Old Louis was a pirate, remember. He sailed.”

“And you’re a sailor?”

“No, but before I became a gambler, I worked all along the waterfront. I’ll pick you up in half an hour.”

He had her backed into a corner. With only thirty minutes, there was no way she could get ahead of him. “I’ll be ready,” she said.

Montana started to lower the phone, then changed his mind. “By the way, Katie, I agree with you.”

“About what?”

“That message you left on my mirror, the morning after we were together. I do still owe you.”

“Oh.” She’d forgotten about the message. She hadn’t forgotten about their making love. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

“I noticed. I just haven’t figured out what to do about it yet. I’m thinking of a new challenge. Double or nothing.”

“Sorry, gambling man. I’ve made my last bet.”

Katie dashed downstairs and retrieved her gym bag from her car. She ducked into the ladies’ room to change. Leotards and a big shirt might not be what she would have chosen, but anything was better than a red skirt. Throwing her working clothes into the bag, she
dashed barefoot up the steps with the bag in one hand and her battered gym shoes in the other.

She made it out front just as Montana pulled under the hospital canopy. She pitched the bag in the back and got in the car, tugging on a pair of thick white socks and her walking shoes.

“I liked you in the black socks better,” Montana drawled.

“What black—oh.” She remembered. His black socks, that first night.

“I liked the red skirt, too. What happened to it?” Montana asked as he pulled away from the door.

“Nothing. I just thought these were better swamp clothes. Where do we find a pirate ship?”

“Pirate ships sail. I guess I forget to tell you. For this trip we move by pole power.”

“I don’t believe we’re doing this,” Katie said, blowing a wisp of hair as she swatted gnats away from her face. “There must be a road.”

“If so, I haven’t been able to find it on any map,” Montana said.

“What makes you think you can even find the place by water?”

He reached forward with the pole, propelling the pirogue along. “I’ll find it, Katie. Don’t worry.”

“I can’t help but worry. How many times have you been out in the bayou in a flat-bottomed boat?” she asked, concern etched across her face.

“Never. All my boating has been on the Mississippi.”

“In a pirogue?”

“No,” he admitted with a grin. “But I can do this.”

She twisted her body, looking behind them as if she expected to see someone there.

“Be still,” Montana said. “These things can turn over in a flash.”

“Sorry. How long do you think it will take us to get there?”

“Now, that I don’t know. These waterways change constantly, and it’s been ten years since Cat came here. We don’t know what we’ll find ahead.”

“I know. Oh, Montana, suppose … suppose …”

“No supposing. At the moment the waterway only goes in one direction. If we keep going, we’re bound to get there.”

“Maybe, but I hope you know that these swamps are full of alligators—hungry alligators. And there are more snakes out here than people.”

“We’re only looking for two people, Leon and Carson,” Montana snapped as his pole stuck in mud for a moment, jerking the boat around. “I’m sorry, Katie,” he said. “I know this is scary.”

“No. I’m okay. I can do this.”

He’d known that. She was scared and she was worried. If Leon was responsible for Carson’s disappearance, Carson could be in danger from more than alligators and snakes.

Katie gripped the sides of the flat-bottomed boat
and ducked a low-hanging limb. The flutter of leaves frightened a bird from the marshy bank. It let out a cry of anger and flew away, setting off a cacophony of protests from the other swamp creatures being disturbed.

Though they were shaded from the sun, the day got warmer, the air heavier. The humidity increased steadily, as did the clouds, until the sky overhead was almost covered. Katie looked at her watch. “We’ve been at this for two hours. Don’t you want me to take the pole?”

Montana shook his head. “No, but if you happen to have a candy bar in your pocket, I missed breakfast.”

He looked tired. Perspiration dripped down his muscular arms and rolled down his cheeks. He hadn’t shaved, his day-old beard giving him a sinister look that would have made Katie think twice about crossing him. The front of his knit shirt was wet in a V that extended from his shoulders to his belt buckle. Gaspard might have been the pirate, but Montana looked every inch the part.

At that moment they reached a fork in the waterway. Montana anchored the boat with his pole and studied the terrain. “What do you think? Left or right?”

“Don’t you know?”

“Nope. In the rain all these bayous look alike.”

“But it isn’t raining,” Katie said as the rain suddenly found its way through the trees in a torrent.

The only good thing about the rain was that it quickly became clear which directin they wanted, the section that moved swiftly and clearly, the old canal. Montana poled the pirogue to the left, into a channel
that soon began to widen. They passed a clearing where dead cypress tilted crazily.

“This is right,” Katie said quietly, as if she didn’t want to disturb anyone. “Cat said Dario called this place the graveyard of the swamp.”

At that moment a large gator slid into the black water and swam toward them as if he were the sentry on duty. A finger of land jutted out. A large water-oak tree with graceful limbs hung heavy with slate-colored moss blocked their view temporarily.

As they rounded the tree they saw it, a gray-green building that almost disappeared into the surrounding growth. There was a dock and a path to the veranda. A dog began to bark, bringing several men into view, one wearing a light gray seersucker suit.

“The man in gray,” Katie said.

“Old Louis himself,” Montana murmured. “Listen, Katie, I don’t think he’s gonna be too pleased to see us. You’d better let me do the talking.”

“Nonsense. I can speak for myself,” Katie said. “I—” She recognized one of the men. “Carson!”

Montana barely touched the pier before Katie jumped out and ran toward her brother, leaving him and the boat behind. “You’re all right? He hasn’t harmed you?”

Carson put his arms around her and hugged her. “Harmed me? No, Katie. Leon may have saved my life.”

Katie pulled back and looked up at the brother she’d never expected to see again, blinking her eyelashes to keep out the rain. His sandy hair had been neatly cut.
He was clean-shaven, and until he hugged her, his clothes were sharply pressed.

“I don’t understand. You said you were no good, that you were going away. I thought that you … you …”

“That I was going to do away with myself? I might have if Leon hadn’t shanghaied me and brought me here.”

“Well, it’s all over now,” Katie said. “We’ll get you out of here and back to the plantation.”

“First, let’s get out of the rain.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and turned her toward the house.

“Oh! Carson, I’ve been so worried.” She stopped and caught her lower lip between her teeth. “I don’t know how to tell you, but we don’t own Carithers’ Chance any longer.”

Carson’s expression was very serious when he said, “What happened?” He stopped and looked back at Montana, who was tying the boat to the dock. “Did Montana claim it?”

“No, I didn’t,” Montana said, stepping up on the pier behind Carson. “What are you doing out here?”

“I thought I wouldn’t be found,” Carson said defensively. “I should have known if anyone could, it would be you. What are
you
doing here?”

“We came,” Katie said, “to get you. I’m sorry if you’re upset about that.”

“I’m not. I’m just not ready yet to face you.”

“Don’t worry, Carson. Nothing could be any worse than my losing the house.”

“What do you mean, you losing the house? I figured Montana called in my IOUs.”

“Montana didn’t claim it. I … I lost it. In a poker game.”

Katie held her breath. Never, in a million years, would she ever have thought she’d hear those words come out of her mouth.

Carson laughed. “Good!” he exclaimed, and turned from Katie to Montana. “I hope you got your money first.”

“Good?” Katie was confused. “What do you mean good? Did you understand what I told you? I went out gambling and lost. We no longer own Carithers’ Chance.”

“I heard you. You bet the farm and lost it. Good.”

Carson tucked Katie’s arm beneath his. “Come and meet Leon and the rest of his houseguests. You’re invited for tea.”

The setting was straight out of
The Great Gatsby
.

At the end of the veranda sat a round table with a lace tablecloth and platters of tiny sandwiches, a silver tea service, and china cups. The other guests, all men, lounged around the porch. They seemed pleasant, though reserved.

The man in the gray suit stepped forward. “I’m Louis Gaspard, your host.” Gallantly, he kissed Katie’s hand and shook Montana’s. “Let me get you some dry clothing.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Gaspard,” Katie said.
“We were already soaking wet from the humidity. Besides, we’ll just get wet again. We appreciate your hospitality,” she went on in a rush, “but we’d really like to get back. Are you ready to leave, Carson?”

“No, Katie,” he said patiently. “I’m not leaving just yet. It wouldn’t be smart.”

She was bewildered, but after what she’d been through, she wasn’t about to back down. “I don’t understand. If this man is holding more IOUs from you, Carson, we can deal with him.”

“There are no IOUs, Miss Carithers,” Leon said gently. “Come and have tea and let me explain.”

Montana moved back, leaning against the side of the house. Katie had to play this out, whatever was going on. She allowed herself to be moved to a white wicker chair with bright yellow print cushions. Mr. Gaspard poured and brought her a cup of tea.

“What can I get you, Mr. Montana?” Leon asked.

“I’d like something cold—a beer,” he decided.

“Sorry,” Leon answered, “we serve no alcoholic beverages here.” He picked up a platter and turned back to Katie. “I could prepare some lemonade.”

“No! And no sandwiches or napkins or anything else you have. I’m waiting for an explanation. What’s going on here?” Katie demanded.

“Katie,” Montana began, coming to stand behind her.