Compulsion (16 page)

No wonder Pru had screamed at the poor old house. It had to be impossible to keep up with all the things that broke all the time.

The thought reminded her that she still hadn’t confessed to Pru that Lula’s furniture was going to be delivered.

With a sigh, she dressed and made her way downstairs. After hugging the wall to avoid the broken banister, she found Pru shaking a cast-iron skillet of shrimp and stirring a pot on a back burner of the stove. Mixed in with the faint ocean odor of the shrimp and a hint of bacon, Barrie picked out the scent of yellow and green onions; serrano, bell, and red peppers; paprika, and a few spices she couldn’t place. The effort of sorting the scents reminded her of Mark. She cupped a hand over his watch, wishing more than ever that he was with her.

“This here’s the low-country breakfast of champions. Otherwise known as shrimp and grits.” Pru turned to Barrie with a determinedly cheerful smile, as if their argument the night before had never happened. But then her focus sharpened. “You don’t look like you slept much, sugar. Do you feel all right?”

Barrie opened the avocado-colored refrigerator, still unsure what she wanted to say, or how to phrase it. She pulled out the pitcher of orange juice.

“So, um . . . I went out on the balcony to watch the Fire Carrier last night,” she said.

Pru turned very slowly to face Barrie, and her lips were tight, her brows drawn into a furrow. Of worry or anger, not surprise.

Barrie set the pitcher on the table with a thud. “You’ve seen him too, haven’t you? You know he’s still here. Why didn’t you tell me that last night?”

“I haven’t seen the fire in years, so I couldn’t know you would. And we were caught up in the Cassie argument.” Pru reached behind her, anchoring herself against the edge of the stove. “Most people see a glow on the water and assume it’s a will-o’-the-wisp in the marsh or reflected moonlight.”

“How do you stop seeing it? It’s not like a fairy. You can’t just stop believing.”

“I don’t know if ‘believing’ is the word you’re looking for.”

“Then what?”

The grits began to scorch, and Pru snatched up the pot and scraped the mixing spoon against the bottom. Barrie straddled the nearest chair. Hands draped across the back, she waited, letting the silence grow until Pru finally looked up.

“I’ve been thinking and thinking what to tell you,” Pru said with her back to Barrie. “The trouble is, I don’t know how much you are like your mother. Warning Lula about danger only whetted her curiosity.”

That didn’t sound like Lula. But then, none of the things Barrie had heard since she’d had arrived at Watson’s Landing sounded much like Lula.

“I’m not reckless,” she said.

“You didn’t believe me when I said the Watson gift is evil.” Pru turned with the spoon in her hand. “Sugar, you can’t play around with magic. Or magical beings. At best you appease them, and you stay clear. I don’t know how to make
you understand that. Your mama didn’t believe in the danger either, and the gift almost tore her apart.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lula didn’t want to turn her back on it; she liked the idea of having something magical of her own. She couldn’t stop thinking about the gift and where it came from, worrying over what the Fire Carrier wanted. Not using the gift started to hurt her physically, and the whole situation made her crazy. She got it into her head that if she could find the Fire Carrier and speak to it, she could convince Daddy he was wrong—that there wasn’t any reason not to use the gift. She tried to talk me into going into the woods with her one night, but I wouldn’t, so she went alone.

“Of course Daddy caught her. He took a switch to both of us, screaming that the Fire Carrier would kill us as sure as we were breathing. I was half-afraid Daddy was the one who was going to kill us. Fear twists people, makes them do things they normally wouldn’t do. Lula usually didn’t back down about anything, but she was different after that night. I don’t know if it was the pain from the beating, or if she didn’t want to see me punished for what she did, or if something Daddy had said finally convinced her, but she never went back to the woods again.”

Barrie’s eyes stung. Her throat ached for both Pru and Lula. How could Pru talk so matter-of-factly about being
beaten? And how could she think the
Fire Carrier
was the villain in that story?

The Fire Carrier hadn’t seemed vicious. Or dangerous. Not last night, and not the night before. He’d seemed . . . sad. Wistful and disappointed.

The doubt must have registered on Barrie’s face.

Pru gave a
fffffft
of exasperation and flung the wooden spoon back into the pot of grits. “Your mama wore that same stubborn expression every time Daddy told her to quit poking at things she didn’t understand.”

“I thought you said she stopped going into the woods.”

“That didn’t keep her from going out onto the balcony to watch the fire. I could see her need to understand, all bottled up inside her.”

“Does that mean you were out on the balcony with her?”

“Not to watch the Fire Carrier. I had other reasons.”

“You did see him, though. The Fire Carrier. What did he look like? What did you
see
?”

“A ball of flame. A witch light. That’s all that’s left of him.” Pru spooned grits and shrimp with sauce into the two bowls she had waiting on the counter and brought them to the table, gesturing for Barrie to eat. “You need to leave all this alone, sugar. The whole situation is more complicated than gifts and curses, more complicated than what little Cassie told you. Maybe it’s more complicated than what Daddy said too,
or what the Beauforts have passed down in their family—”

“You said you didn’t remember what Seven told you.” Barrie picked up her fork without any hint of appetite.

“I remembered some last night. Enough to know that the Fire Carrier will be here as long as the
yunwi
are here, and that as long as he guards them, the Watsons are supposed to stay to protect Watson’s Landing.”

“How?”

“That’s where the gift comes in. It’s so we don’t have to sell off the land.”

Barrie gaped at her aunt. “That makes so much more sense! If that’s what the gift is for, then why on earth wouldn’t we use it? Don’t you see? We’re supposed to help the Fire Carrier—”

“You’re assuming that it’s right to try to keep the
yunwi
on the island. What if it isn’t? What if the Fire Carrier
is
evil and we should let the
yunwi
go?” Pru shook her head. “Sugar, your mama was just as sure as you are that Daddy was wrong about the gift. Don’t make the same mistakes she did. I don’t know if the gift had anything to do with what happened to her, but it sure doesn’t sound like her life turned out well. Why take the chance? I don’t think we should be taking sides between the Fire Carrier and the
yunwi
, and that’s what you’re doing every time you use the gift.”

They were going around in circles. Barrie held in a sigh
and sat back in her chair. “Tell me about the night Lula left, Aunt Pru. What do you remember? Was she upset? Excited? Scared? Was she acting any different from normal?”

“I wish I knew. By the time I got home that evening, she had already locked herself in her room. Daddy sent me to bed, and the next morning Lula was already gone. That’s all I know. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

The tilt of Pru’s head and the set of her chin were so much like Lula’s. Barrie’s mother had never wanted to talk about anything emotional either. Barrie glared down at the grits and the pink shrimp swimming in gravy on her plate, and she tried to decide if she should tell Pru what Julia had said about Lula’s letter. Would Pru be even more upset to know that Julia had kept it all those years and never given it to her?

More questions. There were always questions.

Barrie was fed up with tiptoeing around everyone else’s feelings. “I’m sorry, Aunt Pru. No matter what you tell me, I can’t ignore the gift. I won’t. I can’t ignore the Colesworths. They are my family too. I can’t throw them away over something that happened three hundred years ago. Some incident that no one even remembers clearly. I
am
going to go to the play tonight, and I’m going to help Cassie if I can. I need to do that.”

She second-guessed herself the moment the words were out. Pru was, after all, her new guardian, and Barrie was
living in her house. Lula had never been shy about using every weapon in her arsenal, from silent guilt to weekly threats of firing Mark if things didn’t go her way.

Instead of flaring up in a fit of temper, Pru dabbed her lips delicately with her napkin and took a sip of coffee. Barrie waited, and the silence stretched, and stretched, until it became denial.

“You can’t pretend a problem doesn’t exist,” Barrie said, reaching over to touch Pru’s wrist. “Ignoring me—ignoring Cassie—isn’t going to work. You keep talking about my cousin like she’s a horrible person, but at least she had the courage to tell me about the Fire Carrier.”

“Because she wanted something from you! Don’t mistake that for friendship or affection— Well, shoot.” The tremble of Pru’s hands and the shine of her eyes gave away how hard she was fighting for control. She dropped her utensils with a clang. “I promised myself that I was going to let you make up your own mind about going over there tonight. So go. Do what you need to do to satisfy your curiosity.”

“Thank you,” Barrie said, but the victory felt like a Coke left open too long. All the fizz was gone.

Pru caught both of Barrie’s hands. “I don’t know why Lula didn’t tell you anything about her life with Wade, but she must have had a reason. It may have been for your own protection, did you ever think of that? She may not have been
the best mother, but she was still your mother. She loved you.”

“She
never
loved me!”

“Of course she did!” Pru’s face softened in sympathy, and she let out a breath. “Sugar, I’m mad at Lula too. Madder the more I hear about your childhood. But the Lula I knew would never,
never
have wanted to live the way she ended up living. Some people aren’t cut out to be mothers. I’m not sure she was.”

“Then she never changed much.”

“She was all about living for the moment. For glamour. For fun. Being scarred and ugly and being invisible?” Pru looked up toward the ceiling, then she shook her head. “Don’t you see? If Lula chose to get out of bed, if she chose to survive that kind of hell, there is only one reason: you. Be mad at her if you want to. Anger’s a normal part of grief. But don’t you ever—ever—doubt that she loved you.”

Pru, the table, the whole room swam before Barrie’s eyes. She had never thought of it that way, and she should have. She had known what the doctors had said, how the odds had been against Lula. She had heard how many people with those kinds of burns chose not to keep on fighting.

“I’m sorry. I . . .” She shrugged, not knowing how to go on.

“Don’t keep apologizing for what you feel.” Pru pushed away her unfinished plate. “Just don’t let grief and thinking
Lula didn’t love you push you toward the Colesworths, that’s all I’m asking. They are never going to get over the fact that you’re a Watson to love you for yourself. And damn, I’ve done it again, haven’t I? Look at us. We’re a fine pair, aren’t we? I’ll make you a deal. I’ll try to let you make up your own mind about Cassie and her family, and you stop apologizing for feeling things you have every right to feel. I suspect it will be an uphill battle for us both.”

Pru’s words were hopeful, but the bleakness in her expression still reminded Barrie of the way she had looked sitting on the steps that first afternoon. Lost, as if the vastness of the world were dawning on her now that life was pulling her out of the cocoon she had lived in since the day Lula left.

What had Pru done all these years in the house with no one to talk to? Barrie couldn’t imagine that Emmett had been any kind of company. Given the choice between him and Lula, Barrie would have taken Lula in a heartbeat. At least Lula’d had a reason for her sudden rages.

Heading upstairs to brush her teeth, Barrie mulled over what her aunt had said. Something
had
kept Lula alive all those years. Something had pushed her to survive the fire, the burns, surgery after surgery. All that pain.

Abruptly Barrie was thankful that she would have her mother’s belongings. Sorting through them, touching them, trying on Lula’s clothes, her shoes, holding the small pieces of
her life, might paint a fuller picture now that Barrie had some context of who her mother had been growing up.

Barrie still hadn’t told Pru the furniture was coming. Her aunt was trusting her about going to Cassie’s. The least she could do was trust that Pru would understand she hadn’t meant any insult when she’d asked Mark to send everything to Watson’s Landing.

Pru stood at the sink, staring out into the garden. Heartache was etched in every muscle of her defeated shoulders. Turning as Barrie stopped short in the doorway, she dredged up an unconvincing smile. “You’re back down awfully fast. And you look like you swallowed a river’s worth of questions.”