Midnight Bayou (24 page)

Another figure formed in the room. Female, sturdy, in a long night robe.

Julian.

And in speechless terror, Lilibeth turned and ran.

W
ithin twenty-four hours, Declan discovered he had more help on the house than he knew what to do with. Apparently everyone in Louisiana was invited to the wedding, and they were all willing to lend a hand.

He had painters, plumbers, carpenters and gofers. And though it occurred to him in the middle of the melee that if half that amount had pitched in to repair the original venue, the job would have been done in about twenty minutes, he decided to keep the thought to himself.

It seemed rude to voice it.

And he appreciated the labor, sincerely. Reminded himself of it whenever he felt certain pieces of the house slipping away from him into someone else’s charge.

He’d been looking forward to screening in the lower rear gallery himself, but comforted himself that one good hurricane would demand rescreening.

He’d intended to sand and varnish the ballroom floors, but bucked up when he thought of all the other floors waiting for him throughout the house.

And he sure as hell didn’t mind turning over the exterior painting to others. It was a hot, exacting and laborious job, and crossing it off his list left him free to tackle the downstairs powder room, and to hang the blown-glass chandelier he’d bought for the foyer, and to finish plans for the mud room. And . . .

Well, there was plenty to go around, he reflected.

Then there was the pure pleasure of watching Effie zip in and out on her lunch hour or after work. Even when she brought her mother in tow. Mrs. Renault was a spit-and-polished older version of her daughter with an eye like an eagle and a voice like a drill sergeant.

Remy was right, she was pretty scary. Declan hid from her, whenever possible and without shame.

On the second day of the full-out campaign, Declan strode toward the rear gallery to check progress. He was feeling pretty peppy from the tile he’d just set, was covered with ceramic dust from cutting it.

The noise level was amazing. Voices, radios, power tools. As much as he enjoyed people, he’d have given a thousand dollars for five minutes alone in his house.

“Jim Ready? I want those windows sparkling, you hear? How’s it going to look in the wedding pictures if those windows are dull? Put your back into it, boy!”

The sound of Mrs. Renault’s voice had Declan turning sharply on his heel and changing direction. He all but bowled over Odette.

“Hey, sorry. You all right? I didn’t see you. I was running away.”

“You got a houseful.”

“You’re right about that. If this place isn’t fixed up enough to suit General Renault by D Day, we’re all going to be shot.” He took her arm as he spoke and, thinking only of self-preservation, hustled her into the library. Shut the doors.

“Can I come live at your house?”

She smiled—a curve of lips that didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re such a good boy, Declan, doing all this for your friend.”

“I’m not doing much more right now than staying the hell out of the way.”

“And you’d rather all these people go back where they came from, and leave you be so you can play with your house.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, pushed his dusty hand through his dusty hair. “There’ll still be plenty to do once they go. We’re not touching the third floor or the servants’ area, and only doing one other room on the second. Tell me what’s wrong, Miss Odette.”

“I gotta work up to it.” She set down the shopping bag she carried, then walked over to look at some of his books. There were still boxes of them to be shelved, but she saw what it would be. Towers of words, some old and worn, some fresh and new. Small treasures, deep colors.

“You got vision,” she said at length. “You picture what you want, then you make it happen. That’s a fine skill,
cher.
”

“Some people call it single-minded.”

“You’re anything but. You’ve got a lot of channels in that head of yours. Working on one at a time till it’s done shows character to me. I’m awful fond of you, Declan.”

“I’m awful fond of you, too. I wish you’d sit down, Miss Odette. You look tired.” And troubled. “Why don’t I get us a cold drink?”

“No, don’t you trouble and risk getting shanghaied by Sarah Jane Renault. Now that’s a single-minded individual, and I don’t fault her for it.”

“She told me to get a haircut by the end of the week so I don’t look shaggy or freshly shorn for the wedding.” Sulking over it a little, Declan ran a testing hand through his hair. “And that she’ll be putting fancy soaps, towels and so on in all the bathrooms the day before the
wedding. I’m not to use them under penalty of death. And I’m to get more green plants inside the house. A house can’t breathe without green plants.”

“She’s just nervous, honey. Effie’s her baby. Her youngest daughter.” Odette pressed her lips together. “Declan, I’m shamed to say what I have to say to you, and I won’t blame you if, after I’m done, you ask me not to come back in your home again.”

The words alarmed him, nearly as much as the pain in her eyes. “There’s nothing you can say that would make you unwelcome in my home, Miss Odette. Who hurt you?”

“Oh,
mon Dieu,
if this spoils what I see between you and my Lena, I’ll never forgive myself. My daughter stole from you,” she blurted out. “She came in your house and took what was yours.”

With a heavy heart she reached into her bag, took out his carved box. “This was in her room. I knew it was yours even before I looked in and saw a set of cuff links with your initials. I don’t know if it’s all here, but that’s all there was. If anything’s missing—”

“Let’s just see. I want you to sit down now. I mean it.”

She nodded, sank into a chair.

He chained down his rage as he set the box on a table, opened it. He saw the ring box first, opened it, and felt the worst of the anger fade when the stones glittered up at him.

“Okay.” He breathed out. “The most important thing’s still here.” As was, as far as he could see, everything else but the couple thousand in twenties he kept secured with the money clip that had been his great-grandfather’s.

“It’s all here.”

“You’re not telling me the truth,” Odette said dully.

“A little cash, that’s all.”

“I need to know how much so I can pay it back.”

“Do you think I’d take money from you?” Some of the
anger lashed out, made her wince. “Look at my face. Do you think I’d take money from you for this, for anything?”

Her lips wanted to quiver, so she pressed them into a firm line. “She’s my responsibility.”

“The hell she is. Don’t insult me again by talking about restitution.”

Despite her promise not to shed one in front of him, a tear spilled over. “I know what she is. And I know she’ll never be what I hoped for, worked for, wished for from the moment I knew she was inside me. But she gave me Lena.”

She dug out a tissue, patted her cheeks. There would be no more tears. “I expected she’d steal from me before she took off again, but I didn’t think she’d take from you. I never thought of it, and I’m sorry for that.”

“You want to look at my face again and see if I blame you?”

“No, you don’t blame me. Oh, I want you for my Lena. I’m sitting here knowing my child stole from you, and all I can think is I want you for my baby.”

“Good thing, because I want me for her, too.” He picked up the ring box, crossed over to her chair. “I bought this for her. Maybe you could put in a good word for me so when I give it to her, she takes it.”

Odette looked at the ring and sighed. “Suits her. Sure does suit her. She’s got a good heart, Declan, but it’s got scars on it. She’s so strong. Sometimes I worry she’s too strong, and she’ll forget how to give. I’ll have to tell her about this.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll have to figure out how to keep her from pulling away from you when she knows. That’s what she’ll want to do.”

“Don’t worry. Where’s Lilibeth?”

“Gone. I found this in her room this morning. She’s barely come out of there since the day before. When I went in and found it, I put it away where she wouldn’t find it. Then we had words about it. She packed up and left. She’ll come back,” she said in the same hollow tone he’d heard from Lena. “In a year or two. And we’ll go through it once more.”

“We’ll deal with it when it happens.” He leaned down, kissed her cheek. “I love you.” When her eyes filled again, he took her hand. “Whether Lena’s ready for it or not, we’re family now. Family sticks.”

“When I meet your mama,” Odette managed, “I’m gonna give her one big, rib-cracking hug.”

“That’ll set her up. Why don’t we take a look at what’s happening around here, and you can protect me from General Renault.”

H
e didn’t expect it to take long, and wasn’t disappointed. About the time most of his free labor was packing up for the day, and Effie and her mother had him out in the back garden, Lena strode around the side of the house.

Since he was in the middle of the series of uh-huhs, you-bets and no-problems that had become his litany of responses to the Renault women’s wedding agenda, he decided the confrontation in Lena’s eyes would be a relief.

“The railings and baluster will be wrapped in tulle and lace.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And we’ll have baskets—white baskets—of flowers set out on the gallery there.”

“You bet.”

“The florist will need to start early on the day of the
wedding, so you just scoot out of the way and make sure they have access to all the areas of the house I’ve got marked off on my chart here.”

“No problem. Lena.” He reached out and clutched her hand. A drowning man grabbing a rope. “We’re just talking about flower arrangements.”

“Flowers are the landscape of a wedding,” Mrs. Renault declared, and made more notations on the clipboard she carried everywhere. “How are you, Lena?”

“I’m just fine, Miss Sarah Jane. Isn’t this exciting? Counting right down to the big day. Effie, you must be half mad with the details.”

“I’ve passed half, working toward pure insanity.”

“It’ll all be beautiful.” She kept her smile bright, her voice light even as the dark heat coursed through her. “Those rhododendrons are going to be spectacular on your day.”

“The gardens are going to be a sight,” Mrs. Renault agreed, and ran down her checklist again. “Pity, though, there wasn’t time to put up an arbor, train some sweet peas up.” She looked over the tops of her reading glasses at Declan with a faintly accusatory gleam.

“Maybe the Franks can rig something. Ah, can you excuse me a minute? There’s something I need to show Lena.”

He escaped, pulling her toward the steps to the second-floor gallery. There were still some of General Renault’s militia on the lower level. “They’re like ants,” he babbled. “Crawling out of the woodwork when you’re not looking.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“People. Everywhere. Watch that bucket. I think the ballroom’s safe.”

“Feeling a little pressed, are you,
cher
?”

“I’m thinking of a nice vacation in Maui until this is over. I’ve got to say, I admire women.”

“Really.” She glanced down at the ladders, the tarps, the debris of construction—and the two women picking their way through it with visions of tulle and lace in their heads. “Why is that?”

“You can be spitting mad, and still carry on a polite conversation about rhododendrons.” He peeked through the ballroom doors, sighed. “All clear. Anyway, when most guys work up a head of steam, it spews. Well . . .” He stepped inside. “What do you think?”

The walls were a pale rose, the floor gold and gleaming.

“It’s big.”

“It’ll need to be for this little do. The General says we’ve got two-fifty coming. Otherwise, you can use the pocket doors to turn it into a couple of parlors.”

He crossed the floor, drew one of the big doors out of its slot. “Isn’t this amazing?” He trailed his fingers over the carved wood reverently. “The craftsmanship in these. More than a hundred years ago. I hate hiding them. See how the pattern matches the ceiling medallions? Tibald did a hell of a job restoring those.”

She had worked up a head of steam since her conversation with her grandmother, but found it dispersing now as she watched his undiluted pleasure and pride.

“It’s true love, isn’t it? You and this house. Most men don’t look at a woman the way you look at those doors.”

“I look at you that way.”

She had to turn away. “You make it damn hard to hold on to a mad. Tell me why you’re not mad, Declan. Why aren’t you mad she stole from you?”

“I am. And if I have occasion to see her again, she’ll know it.”

“You should go to the police.”

“I thought about it. I might get some of the money back, but it would embarrass Miss Odette.”

“She’s already embarrassed.”

“I know. Why add to it? I got back the things that mattered.”

The bitterness gushed through her anew. “She came in your house, she went through your things. She
took
from you.”

He lifted a brow at the tone of her voice. “Working up that steam again?”

“Goddamn it. Goddamn it, Declan, she violated your home. It’s not like taking from me or Grandmama. How much did she take?”

“Couple thousand.”

The muscles in Lena’s jaw tightened. “I’ll have you a check tomorrow.”

“You know I’ll tear it up. Put it away, Lena. I figure it was a cheap lesson. If you’re going to live in the country, have a houseful of valuables and spare cash, you don’t walk off and leave it unlocked and unattended.”

“She’d have broken a window.”

“Yeah. That’s why I’m getting a couple of dogs. Always wanted a pack of dogs. I thought I’d go to the shelter after the wedding. Want to come with me?”

She just shook her head. “You lose two thousand dollars—and I bet it was more—to a thieving junkie, and your response is to buy some dogs.”

“Figured I’d get some fun out of it. How about it? They’ll be your dogs, too.”

“Stop it, Declan.”

“Uh-uh.” With a satisfied smirk on his face, he walked toward her. “Let’s get us a couple mongrel puppies, Lena. They’ll be good practice before the kids come along.”

“You get your own puppies.” But he’d teased a smile out of her. “And run around after them when they pee on your rugs and chew on your shoes.”