by Sable Hunter
So close. She had been so close. Opening her eyes, she saw Patrick looking disgusted and her whole body froze. How embarrassing! She had almost climaxed from a kiss and one touch. God, he must think she was pitiful. Pressing the heels of her hands in the blanket she scooted her whole body back and out from under Patrick. “Sorry Patrick, I guess I got carried away.” With stiff moves she straightened her dress and began unpacking the food. “Would you like cole-slaw?”
“What I’d like is an ice pack,” he grumbled. “Hell, I should have known better.”
“None of this was your fault. I knew it was a mistake. I apologize.” Damn, she had known better. Better just to get this over with and go back to her solitary, safe world. Savannah spread the food out and uncovered his glass of tea. “Do you take sugar and lemon?”
It had taken a minute for him to put two and two together. Sometimes he was slow, especially when all of his blood flow was headed to his dick instead of his brain. Whoosh! Narrowly missing the plates of food, Patrick took her by the shoulders and gently but firmly eased her to the ground. “You misunderstand, Flower.” Damn, there was dampness at the corner of her eyes. “Did you think I was fool enough to reject you?” He waited for an answer and when there was none, he crooned softly. “Not in this lifetime, Baby. I have never shared a sweeter, hotter kiss. And when I touched your body - felt that hard nipple under my tongue and caressed your sweet pussy, I wanted to tear off our clothes and push so deep into you that I touched your soul.” He kissed her face, scattering kisses over her eyelids and cheeks. “But not here – I want to have privacy and hours to make you cum over and over again.”
His complete focus on her was intoxicating. Nothing in her past had ever prepared her for Patrick. “Okay.” He was weaving dreams with his words. Whether they would ever come true or not, she didn’t know. But during that short time, while he had kissed and caressed her, she had flown beyond the stars.
Looking at her face, he was relieved to see trust in her eyes. “Savannah, I may not have acted like it a few minutes ago, but I’m a Southern gentleman. Your sexiness just went to my head. What I want most is to get to know you – really get to know you. Do you understand?”
“Yea, that means I’m not getting any today, doesn’t it?”
Savannah sounded amused, yet resigned. Patrick groaned and buried his face in her neck. “Damn, you are the sweetest thing.”
She pushed on his chest and he let her up. “I was only joking. I didn’t expect you to make love to me here. You are a chivalrous man. And you’re right, important things shouldn’t be rushed.” And some things just weren’t meant to be – that was the hard part.
He couldn’t tell if she was agreeing with him or hiding hurt from a rejection he didn’t intend. “Look at me,” he put a finger under her chin. She lifted her eyes to his. “No, look down at me.”
Savannah let her gaze slide down to his cock and then smiled a little when she saw he was swollen and hard. “You do want me.”
The surprise in her voice warmed his heart. “Yes, I do. Now, letdo.&s eat.” They enjoyed the fish and fought over the last ear of corn. “Come on; let’s take a walk for just a few minutes before I have to go. I want to hold hands.” He pulled her to her feet and they walked along the path toward the old Acadian homestead. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the heat and horror of war was a world away.
“Look at how quaint it is,” she pulled his hand over against her middle, just wanting more contact with him. Friends held hands, after all. “The farm house is a reproduction of what a typical single family dwelling would have been like around 1800.” They walked up to the outdoor kitchen where the bread oven was and both were amazed at how people used to live. Next they went to the tiny house and Patrick lifted her up on the porch so they could walk in and see the loom and the iron bedsteads.
“What’s your degree in, and where did you get it?” Patrick didn’t have to ask if she had a secondary degree, he could tell this pretty woman was educated.
“I have a bachelor’s in History and Louisiana studies from LSU,” she answered hesitantly. “It’s not that big of a deal. I have a degree that I love, but I don’t make any money to speak of. I don’t even have health insurance.”
“I’m sorry, Baby, that sucks. Maybe someday our country will remedy that problem.” They walked down by the slave quarters and the barn. “Or you’ll get married to a handsome military man who has good insurance.” Patrick voiced that thought, and then couldn’t believe he had said it out loud. What would Savannah say?
Savannah didn’t react at all. In fact, she changed the subject. “Tell me about your childhood.”
They had walked across a low bridge over a lily covered slough. Rustling in the bushes announced that a snake, an armadillo or a rabbit was only a few feet away. Savannah stepped closer to him. He liked that. What he didn’t like thinking about was how much his grandfather had changed and what life would be like without him. “My grandfather raised me from the time I was five.” His steps had slowed and they stood under a huge oak next to a split-rail fence. Patrick pulled her against him, her back to his front and kissed the top of her head. “My parents went on vacation to visit friends in Maryland in 1987 and never returned. What started out as a few days of vacation ended up being a permanent living arrangement.”
“What do you mean?” Savannah tried to turn in his arms, but he held her fast.
“Mom and Dad were killed in an Amtrak train wreck.” He stated it flatly and without emotion, but Savannah could imagine how much it still hurt.
“Oh, Patrick,” this time she wiggled out of his hold and held him tight, “I’m so sorry.” She was kissing him on his chest over and over. “I know how it is to not have a mom and dad. But it’s worse for you because you had yours for a little while. It was easier on me, because I never really knew what I was missing.”
“It’s never easy to be alone or to lose someone you love. Having just my granddad all of those years has made me hungry for a family. I want it all – a wife, children, a dog. Hell, I’d love to find far-off cousins. Watching Paddy deteriorate has made me realize how awful it’s going to feel to be alone.”
Rubbing her face against his chest, she promised him. “If you’ll tell me everything you know I’ll turn the world upside down to find your family for you.” Hearing his longing for a wife and kids just made her heart hurt – she wanted a family, too. But that was a dream she’d probably never attain.
As they strolled through the village site admiring the glimpse into a time long past, Savannah encouraged him to talk. Their time together was fast drawing to a close. “Tell me what drew you to the Acadian Memorial.”
“Honestly? Up until a year or two ago, I didn’t know the history of the Cajun people. But, I stumbled upon some of Paddy’s papers and began reading them. His preoccupation with tracing our ancestry began when he found out that we were related to the family that built Evermore. And the further he looked back, the more he found. Before he got sick, he had located an old Bible in his grandmother’s truck that contained the name LaVerdure, and the date of 1785. I have read several books on the subject and discovered that the Acadians actually came to Louisiana in waves; some from Nova Scotia, some from France and some from the American colonies. But that date doesn’t match any of the information that I could find on the Grand Derangement. Isn’t that what they called it?”
Savannah was impressed. Rarely did she talk to anyone who knew this much about the history of the Acadians. “The Grand Deportation, the Great Expulsion, the Great Upheaval, even the Acadian holocaust, all of those are common names for the sad event that forced tens of thousands from their home. Did you know that in 2003, the Queen of England issued a royal proclamation of apology to the Acadian people?”
“No, I had no idea about that. That makes it even more real. I know that down through history many people have been displaced and abused, but it’s never easy to think about, especially when you realize it was your own a
ncestors.”
Hearing what he said about people being displaced, Savannah though about Carville and how for almost a hundred years the residents hadn’t had a choice about where they lived. Once they were diagnosed with leprosy, they were quarantined and transported to the hospital in Louisiana, many in chains. Their right to vote was taken away and most of them never were able to leave or ever go home. All because the public didn’t understand or want to understand the realitis of the disease. She was just about to open her mouth to tell him everything when he took her by the arm. “Come on; let’s start back toward the car. I need something else to drink.”
“How about we stop at the drugstore in town for some lemonade on the way back to the Memorial? They have fresh squeezed.”
“That sounds good.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she just melted into him. God, she felt good next to him. “Where do you live, Honey?” He’d get a specific address later, because he intended to need it.
“I have a cottage over on Bayou Teche about ten minutes from here.”
“Damn, if we had time, I’d love to have seen where you live.”
“I think you’d like it.” His comments left little doubt in her mind that he intended to see her again. Savannah was torn about what to do. She wanted to believe all of this, she wanted to revel in the attention and the possibilities. But she was afraid. “I live alone, but I keep busy. Besides my position with the Culture Center, I also spend time with children in a neighborhood after-school program. It’s fun. I fix them supper and let them play games on my lawn and I teach them different things - sometimes its Louisiana folklore and sometimes it’s a smattering of French dialect or a poem that I think they would enjoy.”
“I bet they love you.” Patrick was captivated. When she spoke of the children, her expression became dreamy. “What do you do for fun?” He wanted to know every detail he could before he left. And he intended to find out more as they communicated online.
She caught her lower lip in small pearly-white teeth and looked down. “I read and cook, but that’s boring.” Glancing up at him through thick, dark lashes – she smiled. Then she gave him a quick little wink and whispered. “And I’m about to venture into a new hobby. The television show PROOF has contacted the Cultural Center and they’re coming to investigate some of the plantations on the River Road and I’m going to help. So, I’m learning everything I can about ghost hunting. Of course, one of the focal points of our work is Louisiana folklore. I love to spend time talking to the old people and recording tales of hauntings and unusual happenings.”
“Ah, so you believe in things like fortune telling. What did the old woman say again? That you’d meet a warrior? You have to admit, that’s a bit unusual. Don’t they usually tell you that you’ll meet someone tall, dark and handsome?”
A bit of mischievousness came over Savannah. “I don’t want to scare you, and I won’t sue you for breach of promise, but this particular woman is rarely wrong. She comes from a very powerful hoodoo family that is famous for their healing powers as well as their magical gifts.”
They came to their picnic spot and Patrick helped her gather up their gear and carry it toward the car. “Really? So, you think we should pick out china patterns? If we’re gonna get married, I’m really glad you reconsidered the ban on kissing.” He was teasing – and he wasn’t.
Yea, she had kissed him. That was one thing she wouldn’t forget for many a day. Running a finger over her lips, she shivered at the memory. “If the Saints win the Superbowl, we’ll talk about it.”
Her quick come-back made him laugh. “I enjoy being with you, Savannah.” He opened her door, and then put the other items in the trunk before climbing behind the wheel. “Do you plan on investigating Evermore Plantation? Many people that live around it say that it’s haunted.”
“I don’t know. It depends on how the session with PROOF goes. Our first endeavor will be The Grove up close to Baton Rouge, I think. But if they schedule more sessions, I will be sure and recommend Evermore. Those curved staircases on the front are so beautiful. I can just imagine spectre ladies floating up and down them in their ball gowns. Did you ever sense anything when you lived there?” Savannah loved a good ghost story.
“I did. We lived in the caretaker’s cottage, of course. But sometimes, I would spend the night in one of the garconieries. They were two story buildings designed for the young unmarried men of the family to live in. There they could be typical boys and not be a bad influence on the younger children, especially the girls. Anyway, when I was about six, I was sleeping there one night and I woke up to see a little boy standing at the end of my bed. But there were no other little boys there; it was just me and my grandfather.” While he talked, Patrick drove out of the park and hit the road back toward town. “What was wild – was that he followed me back to the caretaker’s cottage. He would play with my toys. Sometimes he broke them and I got blamed for it.”
“Were you afraid of him?”
“At first, but I was so lonely that I started to look forward to his visits. He was a little shy, but friendly.”
“Did he talk to you?”
“A few times,” Patrick admitted. “Now where’s that drug store?”
It was just down the street so Savannah helped him hunt a parking place. “What did he say?” She bombarded him with the question as soon as he opened her door.
“You like this stuff, don’t you?” He took her by the hand and helped her out. Before Savannah could answer ‘yes’, he pulled her into his embrace. “Here’s what I like – sweet Savannah sugar.” He kissed her hard and quick because the street was crowded and the sun was beating down on them.
="Calibri"ize="+0" face="Calibri">This time Savannah made no protest. Their time together was drawing to a close and she was hoarding every moment away in her treasure chest of memories. “Yes, I like the ghost stories, but I like your kisses more.” Her admission seemed to make him happy. “Now, what did the little boy say?”
“He said he didn’t like the people at Evermore. He told me that they had hurt him. And he said his name was Felix.”
“Wow, did you ever ask any questions about it or try to find out who Felix was?” He stopped long enough to order and collect their lemonade, but he never turned loose of Savannah. Leading her back to a booth, he let her sit down then scooted in right next to her. “Lord, you’re big,” she playfully fussed as his pressed close to her.
“Parts of me are,” he gave her a hot look and a devastating smile. “No, as I got older, I saw him less and less. Until you started talking about ghosts, I hadn’t really thought about him in a long time.”
“Wouldn’t it be wild to investigate the house and see if Felix is still there?”
Her enthusiasm was contagious. “Yea, I guess it would be.”
“Proving that we don’t cease to exist when we die is an age-old life quest. I’d like to know if love survives beyond the grave. It would make life more meaningful. Don’t you think?”
“If something happens to me, I’ll contact you. Okay?”
A cold splash of fear hit her right in the heart. “Don’t say that. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Savannah captured his hand in hers, as if she were trying to pull him back from the precipice.
Patrick couldn’t help but enjoy her holding on to him. The sight of their joined hands did something to his breathing. Damn! When her thumb began moving caressingly over his palm, he felt chills run over his body. God, the little doll sitting beside him was making him feel things he hadn’t felt in a helluva long time, if ever. “Neither do I, but what I do is always a risk.” Swallowing hard, he made his play. “I came home on special leave. So, when I ship out tomorrow, I won’t be back for about a month. Will you wait for me?”
A surge of happiness filled her heart. She felt like she was starring in an old-time romantic movie. “Wait for you?” She held her breath. Was he asking what she thought he was?
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you n
ot date anyone or get married before I get back.” Patrick wasn’t teasing. He knew it was too soon to say more, but he wanted to make her understand he intended to come back and pick up where he left off.
Savannah let out a tiny exasperated giggle. “I’m not going anywhere, Patrick. Men aren’t exactly beating down my door for a date anyway.”
“They’re fools.” Patrick announced solemnly.
You could have knocked Savannah over with a feather. How many times had she fantasized about meeting someone like Patrick O’Rourke? How many times had she sat down with a lit candle and wrote love poems and love letters to her longed-for lover? Too many to count. Looking at him, it was almost as if she had conjured him from thin air. “I can’t lie. I wish things were different, but there are obstacles to our being together that I don’t think we could ever overcome.”