Lead Me On (36 page)
"Oh man, I forgot to tell you something!" Scott sat upright in bed.
"Hmm?" Alli murmured sleepily, her body exhausted from a day of packing boxes.
Scott turned toward her, propping his weight on one elbow. "I can't believe I didn't tell you this, but with everything that's been going on, I flat forgot."
"Well, we have been rather busy lately." She smiled as she ran a fingertip over his bare chest. They'd been together constantly for the two weeks since he'd proposed. Once he'd calmed down, Scott had decided he wanted to give her time to get to know him and be completely sure about marrying him, but not too much time, since he was more than ready to tie the knot.
She was eager as well, and her certainty grew with each passing day. The more sure he became of her love, the more he relaxed his guard, showing her how much he needed that kind of total acceptance. She'd always had that with her siblings, but watching him experience a family's love for the first time made her appreciate it even more.
So, they'd set the wedding date for New Year's Day, thinking it an appropriate time to start a new life together, and were currently in the process of moving Scott into the Bouchard Cottage—an irony since the Bouchard descendants now lived in the mansion. Aunt Viv might be thinking of retiring, but she wasn't ready to leave New York just yet. She'd offered to let them live there until more permanent plans could be made. Alli wouldn't officially move in until after the wedding, though so far they hadn't spent a night apart.
A week after Rory and Chance returned, she and Scott headed for New Orleans to pack up his things. He planned to keep the townhouse, for all of them to use as they wanted, but his official residence would be Galveston so Allison could be with her family and continue to work at the inn.
It was at the townhouse that Alli met his mother for the first time. She and Chloe had been packing up Scott's office when DeeDee LeRoche came by, full of complaints and hurt feelings that Scott hadn't so much as called to let her know he was back in town. He was such a horrible son, she told Allison, he never thought of anyone but himself. And if he was moving to Galveston, what was wrong with living at the beach house? she wanted to know.
After half an hour with the woman, Alli decided DeeDee wasn't intentionally cruel, she was simply self-absorbed and a bit of an airhead. A very stunning and surgically well-preserved airhead. When Scott introduced Allison as his fiancée, his mother didn't recognize the name until he explained the St. Claires were the new owners of Pearl Island. Then she'd just looked horrified and asked why in God's name anyone would want to buy that derelict old pile of stones. When Scott finally walked her to the door, Alli overheard the woman tell him, "Divorces are so messy, why don't you just live together?"
Unfortunately, Alli had still been standing in the middle of the office with her mouth open when he returned. He'd taken one look at her expression, cringed and said, "Okay, I know you love me, I've got that part down, but are you sure you can handle my family?"
Laughing, she'd opened her arms, hugged him close, and assured him she wasn't going to call off the wedding just because his mother was a rude ditz.
That had been hours ago. Now the boxes were packed and ready for the movers. Beyond the French doors to the balcony, night had fallen. Only an occasional shout or rowdy laugh could be heard in Scott's quiet corner of the French Quarter. She snuggled closer to him in the big sleigh bed and suppressed a yawn. "What did you forget to tell me?"
"That I found Lafitte's treasure."
She pulled back, her eyes wide as sleepiness vanished. "What?"
"Well, not found it literally, but found out what it is."
Sitting up, Alli gathered the covers over her naked breasts. "Well? Tell me."
"Bobby's friend, Jackie Taylor, in Corpus Christi—"
"The one who owns the
Pirate's Pleasure
."
"Yes, her. She's a descendant of Jack Kingsley."
"You're kidding." Alli's eyes widened. "I knew she was named after him, but I didn't know she was related. I wonder why she didn't say anything when she came to Pearl Island last year."
"Because Bobby was right when he said her father's treasure hunts are a sore spot with her." Scott scooted up to lean against the headboard. "In fact, I had a hard time getting her to talk to me at all. I called her purely on a hunch after reading Marguerite's diary. At first, she denied any connection. Then she admitted to being a descendant but told me quite bluntly that there was no treasure, and even if there were, she had no clue where it might be. So I badgered her a bit more and asked why Marguerite would have mentioned Jack having it if it didn't exist. And that's when she told me."
"What? Just spit it out."
"It's a powder horn."
"A powder horn?" Alli rocked back.
"Remember when I told you that Jean Lafitte had a very flowery way of writing?"
"Yes."
"Well, he was also fond of making speeches and grand gestures. When the authorities finally ran him off Galveston Island, some of his men decided to give up piracy and stay in Texas. One of those men was Jack Kingsley's grandfather, who was apparently very close to Lafitte. Before Lafitte left Galveston, he presented his friend with a powder horn as a memento of their greatest adventure together, the Battle of New Orleans. As he handed him the gift, he referred to it as his 'dearest treasure.' "
Alli frowned. "Why a powder horn?"
"That's what I wanted to know, but Jackie claimed she had no idea. However"—he wiggled his brows—"you don't write as many novels as I have without learning how to do research and track down obscure facts."
"What did you find out?" She settled in beside him, against the headboard.
"The powder horn was given to Lafitte by Andrew Jackson at a celebration ball following the Battle of New Orleans." Scott draped an arm over his raised knee. "Jackson made a big deal about the horn having great significance because it had been given to him by George Washington during the Revolutionary War, and Washington had even carved his initials into it. Personally, I think if it really was Washington's powder horn, Jackson was issuing Lafitte a sneaky insult, because Jackson hated Washington's guts."
"Then why did Washington give Jackson the horn?"
"During the Revolution, Jackson, who was a boy, carried messages for the militia. On one occasion, Washington stuck a message inside the powder horn."
"Ah, so it was a way of hiding messages in case Jackson ran into the British."
"Exactly." He nodded. "Now, whether Lafitte knew about Jackson's animosity toward Washington is anyone's guess, but he made one of his elaborate speeches about being profoundly honored and how he'd always treasure a gift from such a mighty leader of men, blah, blah, blah. Hence it became known as"—he held out his hands— "Lafitte's Treasure."
"That is such a wild story."
"Yeah." Scott cocked his head in amusement "To think that all this time, people have been looking for a chest of gold, but the treasure is something that has historical value rather than monetary value."
"Do you think it went down with Jack's ship?"
"I do." He smiled slowly. "And I'll bet you Marguerite's necklace is inside it."
"Oh, my goodness." Alli's heart raced at the thought. "If only we could get to it."
He played with the ends of her hair. "Have any of you thought of raising the ship?"
"That would cost a fortune."
"If we can find enough evidence that the powder horn is really down there, I bet we could get funding."
" 'We.' " She smiled as she repeated the word. "I like the sound of that. I hope you meant it to include the whole family."
Surprise lit his eyes. "I did, actually."
"See, you're learning." She leaned over to tease his lips with a kiss. "We'll make a family man out of you yet."
"I don't know." He gave a mock frown as he gathered her in his arms. "I think I need more practice. Tell me how it's done again."
"You start by saying 'I love you' several times a day."
"I love you." He kissed her as he lowered her to the mattress and settled his body over hers. "Several times a day."
"Yes, you certainly do." She laughed and wrapped her arms around him. He was so right, she thought with a sigh. The true treasures in life had nothing to do with chests of pirate gold. They had to do with family and love.
~ ~ ~
Don't stop reading. Continue on for the
Bonus Chapter
Return to Pearl Island
: Part Two
and
Chapter One excerpts from
Falling For You
, book one from the Pearl Island trilogy
Don't Tempt Me
, book three from the Pearl Island trilogy
~ ~ ~
Enter the password Captain Jack
~ ~ ~
Learn more about Julie Ortolon and where to buy her heartwarming, contemporary romance novels at
JulieOrtolon.com
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http://www.JulieOrtolon.com/contact
Part Two: Seven years later
"Allison, seriously, my mind is made up. I'm not going."
"Scott, that's silly," Alli argued from the passenger's seat of the SUV. Amused exasperation danced in her eyes. "There's absolutely no reason you shouldn't go."
"No reason?" He gaped at her. "You just had a baby–"
"Two months ago."
"–and you expect me to take off to New Orleans for a week?"
"Five days."
"To do a
book signing
?"
Patience tempered her amusement. "I know how much you hate promoting your own books, but it's not exactly your average book signing. It's a major fundraising event to help rebuild the libraries destroyed by hurricane Katrina."
"I'm only one of the authors they invited."
"But you'd be the star attractions."
"No, the cause is the star attraction." Reaching the bridge to Pearl Island, he turned through the massive stone columns topped with gargoyles. The moment he heard the tires slapping against the ancient bridge the stress of the last few days began to melt from his shoulders. A narrow expanse of blue water spread to either side, separating the lush, private island from the main island of Galveston. Lowering the driver's side window, he breathed in the tangy, coastal scent. "You know I'm always willing to help with the efforts to rebuild, so I think I can pass on this one thing."
"But that's what I don't understand." Alli lowered her window as well and the wind ruffled her shoulder-length dark curls. "You've given so much to the effort. Not just money, but you spent a month at the townhouse in the French Quarter, helping with the clean up."
"Thank God the French Quarter was mostly spared."
"And last year, you went back to help build houses."
"But that was before Nicole was born."
"If you're worried about me handling a newborn and the twins, don't. I have Rory and Chance, Betsy McMillan always loves to help out, and your niece, Chloe, is here. I'll be fine."
"I'm not worried." Under his breath, he added, "If anything, we've had too much help with the baby."
"What?" Her brow wrinkled.
"Nothing." He sighed, realizing he'd sound ungrateful if he complained. With the boys, they'd needed all the hands they could get. A single baby, though, was so easy by comparison, some days he had to fight a parade of family and friends just to hold his own daughter. The fact that she already slept through the night didn't help him squeeze in any alone time with her, unlike the twins who had seemed hell bent on one of them being wide awake and needing something around the clock for the first two years.
Glancing in the review mirror, he saw the devious duo, Derrick and Raff, with their Transformers, locked in a battle for world domination. The sounds of their mock war filled the air with explosions and phaser blasts. At five years old, baby fat kept their nearly identical faces deceptively sweet, but he knew what havoc they could wreak if he didn't keep his eye on them. Raff, the plotter, always had a scheme brewing, while Derrick, the charmer, could talk their way into or out of any situation.
Oblivious to the racket from her brothers, Nicole cooed happily in her car seat. The colorfully framed mirror strapped to the headrest reflected her adorable black curls, china blue eyes, and rosebud mouth. She grinned as sunlight filtered through the passing trees to play across her face. God, she was adorable.
"Is it the thought of having to do interviews as part of the event that's holding you back?"
"What?" He frowned, pulling his attention away from the kids.
Sympathy softened Alli's face as she shifted toward him. "I remember how much you hate talking about yourself, so if that's it, I understand. It's just, I thought you'd gotten over that years ago."
"I did."
"Then what is it? Why don't you want to go?"
"I told you. I'd be gone for a week."
"But, I'll be fine."
"I know that!" he insisted, then sighed. Reaching over, he took her hand and squeezed it. "Could we talk about something else? This is our first visit to the inn in weeks and I want to enjoy every minute."
"Well, we have been a tad busy, me with the baby and you meeting this last deadline."
"Which is now met, thank God. I'm finally free from that office."
"You talk as if you've been locked away in a tower." She laughed.
"Some days that's how it feels." His shoulders sagged as he thought about the office over the garage they'd built behind the Bouchard Cottage, where they still lived courtesy of Allison's aunt. For years, he'd craved a calm, uncluttered space to write, rather than working in Adrian's old bedroom surrounded by kid toys and chaos. With Allison working at the gift shop, he'd been the one to watch the boys during the day. Having Nicole come along gave them the incentive to turn Adrian's old bedroom into a nursery and give him a real office. The only thing they hadn't agreed on yet was how they'd juggle the kids when Alli returned to work. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I miss my old office."
"What?" The statement so surprised Alli, she wondered if she'd heard him right. "You're the one who said you couldn't write with the boys running through the house like a couple of wild things."
"I know, but I kind of got used to it. My new office is so quiet, I can't concentrate."
"Seriously?" She squinted at him.
"Sadly, yeah." He looked a bit embarrassed by the admission. "I keep standing at the window, staring at the house, wondering what the twins are doing, if the baby's awake, if you need anything."
A burst of laughter escaped her. Leaning over, she kissed his cheek. "You are such a softy for your boys."
"Well, don't tell them," he whispered and glanced in the rear view mirror. "Those two are like sharks. If they smell a weakness, their victim is toast."
"I love you." The sincerity behind the words brought a sweet ache to her chest.
He gave her a sideways smile, as if about to say he loved her too, but ear-splitting screams split the air.
"No! Let go!"
"It's mine!"
"Boys, boys!" She twisted in her seat to find them in a tug-of-war over one of the toys. "What's all of this? You each brought a Transformer."
"Raff broke mine!" Derrick shouted, his round cheeks turning red.
"You broke it!" Raff tugged harder. "Give mine back."
"Careful." Allison reached back to rescue the toy. "You'll wind up with two broken toys. Derrick, let me see yours."
While their screams grew louder, she managed to retrieve the broken toy. "Look, you can still play with it. And I bet your daddy can fix it."
"I don't want it!"
"Sons?" Scott's calm voice sliced through the chaos. "Do you want brownies after lunch?"
Derrick went still, blinked a couple of times then cheered. "Brownies!"
"Then I suggest you each play quietly with your own toy."
Derrick grinned. "If we're extra good can we have two brownies?"
"You have to earn one first, by not fighting," Scott told them.
"But how can there be brownies?" A frown of suspicion puckered Raff's brow. "Uncle Adrian is in the Car'bean."
"He is in the Caribbean, with your Aunt Jackie," Scott said. "But your Aunt Rory knows you two crumb-grabbers well enough. I bet she whipped up a batch."
"Promise?" Raff asked.
"We're about to find out, since we're here."
Allison turned forward in her seat as they left the tunnel of trees and the inn came into view. The majestic mansion rose above the nearly empty parking lot.
"Ah, Mondays." Scott sighed. "When all is quiet at the inn."
"Only because summer is over. Ever since Rory did her interview on
Good Day USA
, we hardly have any quiet days." Allison beamed with pride at everything her little sister had accomplished in helping tourism return to Galveston since Hurricane Ike. The hardest task for Rory, though, had been doing the live interview on national television, but once the interview started, she'd sailed through it, charming the reporters and the audience. "That day is an example of what a public appearance for a good cause can do."
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" He laughed as he set the brake.
"Not until you give me a good reason why you won't do it."
"Okay, boys," he called toward the backseat. "Let's go over the rules?"
"Rules?" Derrick asked as if he'd never heard the word.
"No running or shouting in the public areas, whether guests are around or not," Scott began as he climbed out.
Alli climbed out as well and they crossed in front of the hood as he went to release the boys from their car seats, and she went to get Nicole. The moment she opened the back door, a big, toothless grin broke over the baby's face.
"Welcome to Pearl Island, sweetie," Alli whispered in a bright voice.
Nicole kicked her feet with joy, nearly losing the tiny, white booties.
"Yes, it is exciting. Your very first visit." She lifted the little bundle and settled her against a shoulder so Nicole could look around. "What do you think?"
To her delight, the baby's blue eyes went round with wonder as she gazed up at the three-story, gothic mansion looming over them.
"This is the house I told you about." She adjusted the frilly, white dress. A stretchy headband held a pink bow nestled in the dark curls. "The one that was built for your great-great-great grandmother, Marguerite. She had a daughter named Nicole, too. That's who you're named after."
As if she understood, Nicole made a little circle of awe with her mouth.
On the other side of the vehicle, Derrick and Raff sprang free with their usual exuberance. "Brownies!" Derrick shouted in a battle cry and the race for the back door was on.
"And no brownies until
after
lunch," Scott called at their retreating backs.
She had to laugh as she retrieved the diaper bag. "Sometimes I feel like we've unleashed the dogs of war."
"An apt metaphor." He sighed as he came around to help her. "I'm never sure if they're bent on destroying the world or conquering it."
"If they ever stop competing and start cooperating, who knows what they could accomplish."
"Hey, they cooperate." He looked comically offended.
"Only when they're tormenting Lauren with garden snakes. Or talking little AJ into some death-defying feat designed to give poor Rory heart failure." Rory's two-year-old son, Adrian Jackson, had a dare-devil's heart that kept the whole family jumping. Naturally, the twins felt compelled to egg him on.
"They're boys." Scott took the pink diaper bag and hefted the strap over his shoulder. "That's what boys do."
"Do you think it's too late to send them back? The doctors did claim I was having twin girls."
"Talk about getting that call wrong." Scott laughed. "At least you finally have this little one to wear all those girly dresses you and Paige bought for the twins."
Cupping the back of Nicole's head, he smiled at her with a look that tugged at Allison's heart. Then his gaze lifted to her, and the moment went still.
"You do good work," he said softly.
"I had help." She smiled up into his eyes.
"Yeah." He grinned and lowered his head to brush her lips with his. A tingle of excitement raced through her as she rose up to deepen the kiss. Just as his mouth began to mold and play, Nicole let out a little squeal of happiness and nearly squirmed free.
"Careful, sweetie." Alli tightened her hold.
"Here, I'll take her." Scott held out his hands.
"No, I've got her." She pressed her lips against Nicole's temple and breathed in the clean baby scent.
He looked oddly disgruntled, but nodded at the back door. "Shall we go in?"
"Yes, but let's go around front. Nicole's first visit deserves a grand entrance."
"It certainly does."
His arm went about her waist as they started down the oyster-shell path that lead to the front lawn. Overhead, gargoyles snarled down at them while the turret roof reached for the sky.
"Isn't it a grand house?" She shifted the baby so Nicole could see the elaborate architecture. Glancing up, she looked at it with fresh eyes, as if seeing it for the first time. "I can't believe we nearly lost it."
"But we didn't."
"Rory swears Marguerite and Captain Jack kept it safe during the hurricane."
"You disagree?" He arched one of his black brows in that slightly sinister expression she still found sexy.
"Not at all. It's the only explanation that makes sense." When they'd received word that Hurricane Ike was bearing down on Galveston, they'd scrambled to move all the furniture to the second and third floors before boarding up the windows and evacuating. From the safety of a hotel inland, they'd watched the news coverage with the rest of her family, all of them praying for the best but fearing the worst. The seawall on the gulf side of Galveston had held, but the reports about the storm surge slipping into the bay and flooding the island had disheartened them. They'd returned, expecting total devastation, but found the mansion miraculously spared from the ground floor up. Only the modern apartment in the basement had needed gutting and rebuilding.