by Caro LaFever
The cottage was new, yet it still held the quaint character of the home her grandparents had lived in for forty years, and where her Maw-Maw had spent her final days. The wide porch ran along the entire side facing the bayou, and she had fond memories of racing back and forth across the lawn as a kid with her sisters. The three dormer windows were exactly like the ones in the old cottage, and she’d spent many nights looking at the stars and moon, perched on the sill, dreaming as only a child can do.
After his wife had died, Paw-Paw needed something to focus on, and the new construction with its details served as a distraction. The cottage now held all the luxuries of a mansion—the four bedrooms, the granite countertops in the kitchen, the wide terrace in the back, where the BBQ grill stood. Besides the main house, her grandfather had built a new detached garage with a small apartment overhead for a caretaker. Eventually, he’d told her, he’d need help getting around and keeping up the place. Not now, but eventually.
The thought of him needing a caretaker, of dying like her grandmother, always twisted her heart anytime she thought about it.
So she tended not to think about it.
She came to a stop on the gravel road between the garage and the cottage. Turning off the car, she rolled down the window and took a moment to breathe. This place always gave her room, gave her hope. Calling her Paw-Paw on the phone never did the trick. She needed to see his face, look into his eyes, touch his hand with hers. The old ways were about being with a person, not hearing their wisdom through an echoing cell line.
Silence hushed the air, only the chirping of the crickets disturbing the peace.
A lone light shone from the rear of the house, telling her he was here. Probably dozing in the front parlor, since he wasn’t on the porch and he hadn’t come out to greet her.
Nina took in another breath. Certainty settled inside.
She’d find her answers here. As always.
The idea that had flashed into her brain when she’d talked with Lilith returned. She wanted to run it by her grandfather, but in her gut, she thought she was on the right path.
She’d find her joie de vivre again, and figure out how to give it to Luc as a gift of herself.
Opening the car door, she stepped into the dimming light of evening. She spotted a new hood for the grill, and that the wooden steps to the terrace had recently been repaired. Interesting. Paw-Paw didn’t much like strangers around, and the last time she visited and mentioned the crumbling steps, he’d told her he’d wait until Cousin Tommy came back from college at Christmas.
The buzz of a cell phone rumbled from inside the house, the sound carrying through the open kitchen window.
“Hello?” The gruff voice of her grandfather followed. “Naw, not interested in investing. I told you that before, Joe.”
Her Paw-Paw lived simply, yet she knew he still dabbled in oil and gas, the area where he’d made his fortune. That fortune had been partially squandered by her father. However, knowing her grandfather, he had plenty in reserve. Not that she cared. She’d never been one to care about money. She’d been halfway raised by a woman who believed there were far more important things.
There are people who have money, Boo, her Maw-Maw would say time and time again. And then there are people who are rich.
From a young age, she’d understood the essential truth of what her grandmother was trying to tell her. She might be flighty once in awhile and she might have carelessly hurt the man she loved, but at heart, she understood the essential truths of how to live a life.
She just needed to find Luc and show him that.
First, though, her Paw-Paw.
Her tentative knock got answered immediately. The cottage’s door eased open to reveal her grandfather. His gray brows furrowed. “About time.”
“What?” She frowned back at him. Visiting hadn’t been on the priority list for the last few months. She’d come down with Jeanie and her family once about a month ago, but she thought her grandfather understood she’d be busy getting the shop going at least through the holidays. “What do you mean?”
“Thought I’d see you here sooner than this.” He gestured at her to come in and turned, heading for the front of the house. “Let’s talk on the porch before you make your move.”
“Make my move?” Confusion swirled inside her, though she obediently followed him down the long hall that cut the house in half.
The creak of the screen door opening reminded her of the times she’d flown out the cottage door, headed for the bayou with a fishing pole in hand. For a moment, she wished life was that simple again—no thoughts of fear, or emotions like regret and pain to deal with.
You must grow into the woman you were meant to be.
Lilith’s voice filtered into her memory, making her straighten her spine. Time to find out whatever she needed from her grandfather and then find her love. “Paw-Paw.”
“Take a seat.” He waved a languid hand, yet something in the set of his own shoulders told her he had some things to say.
Which was why she was here.
Right?
A slither of wary anxiety flickered in her gut. Normally, this man, who in many ways had been the center of her universe since she was a baby, was the epitome of calm and cool. She could count on one hand the amount of times she’d heard him raise his voice or scowl in anger. Never had she heard him give his wife a cross word—not even when he didn’t catch a bass or crappie during an entire day of fishing. But there was something in the tone of his voice that warned her.
Ech! Another tongue-lashing? Was that really why her instincts had driven her down here? Hadn’t she been scolded enough?
“Sit.”
That was definitely a command. Apparently, she hadn’t heard enough.
A wave of weariness swept over her, threatening to drown her in defeat. She knew Lilith loved her and wished her the best. And she knew Cyrus hadn’t meant his reprimand to sting as much as it had. Still, she felt as if she’d had enough of her hide ripped off for today. “I don’t want to talk, I guess.”
Her grandfather’s bushy brows rose. “You guess?”
“I thought maybe—”
“Come sit, Boo.” He reached out and patted his hand along the length of her arm, as he had since she’d been a child. The touch soothed her and gave her courage at the same time.
Sitting in one of the old rockers, she let herself gaze at the slow-moving water of the bayou, let herself take in the peace of a southern dusk.
Her grandfather sat beside her. In his typical way, he let the lull of silence take its effect.
Nina took in a breath. “Paw-Paw, I did—”
“Heard tell you made a hash of your relationship with Miró.”
Her spine shot straight. “Who told you? Did Jeanie or Heni call you?”
“No.” The creak of his rocking chair was the only other response.
“Then who?”
As he sometimes did, her grandfather ran right past her. “A man has a right to be upset when a woman throws his secrets into the world without his consent.”
“Shit,” she muttered, sinking into her chair.
“Just so.” Another creak of his chair. He let the silence fall once more, and this time the hush was laden with disapproval. Her Paw-Paw so rarely disapproved of anything she did, the clear judgment was worse than what Cyrus and Lilith had delivered.
A gulp of tears welled in her throat. Maybe she’d done something so bad she’d never be able to retrieve what she’d lost. Maybe her instincts had brought her here so her grandfather could destroy the last of her hope.
A whip of wind rippled across the lawn, making the cyprus trees’ boughs weave. A crack of far-off lightning echoed between them.
“Storm’s coming.” Paw-Paw’s laconic comment wove around his continuing unspoken censure.
An impulse to jump up, say her piece, race off, swept across her just as another surge of wind skimmed along the water of the bayou. White crests broke on the waves as they c
ame ashore. Nina sucked in a breath and kept quiet. An impulse had been what got her into this mess, and she’d promised herself she’d learn.
“You’re quiet.” Her grandfather leaned back in his chair and set it to rocking again. “That’s good.”
Her hands tightened into fists, and yet, she kept her promise to herself. She’d take what he had to say, and she’d find a way to make this right. If it was the last thing she did.
It was hard though.
Curiosity and impulse battled inside her. Who had told her grandfather about this mess she’d landed in? Why wouldn’t he spit out what he had to say and leave her be?
“Nina.” He sighed, a deep, gruff sound.
“Yes, Paw-Paw?” Eagerness and distress mixed in her gut, like a horrible stew.
“I love you.”
The tears that had fallen up and down her throat during this conversation, spilled onto her cheeks. “I love you, too.”
“You were always a child of light,” her grandfather continued. “Always a girl of joy.”
A child of light. A girl of joy.
She liked that a lot. Yet, she’d given Luc the exact opposite by her rash behavior, and it suddenly hit her: She might never be able to forgive herself, much less ask him to forgive her, as well.
“I did a horrible thing,” she whispered her confession. “I didn’t think when I talked out of turn, but still. It’s my fault.”
The wind clattered across the roof, and another crack of lightning thundered from the sky to the west.
“Closer,” he murmured.
The tears tumbled, and she had a hard time catching her breath between the sobs. “I’ve learned an important lesson, Paw-Paw. One I’ll never forget.”
“And what’s that?”
“The words I speak have power,” she said slowly. “I need to consider what I say carefully.”
“Correct.” The quiet word spoke volumes. It was filled with affection and approval. “You were always a chatterer, and I didn’t think the way your father tried to change that was good.”
“No, it wasn’t.” She saw it now. How she’d used words to build barriers to protect herself. How she’d flitted away from conflict by adopting a flippant air about what was important. How she’d come to believe her words didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. “Papa made me feel I shouldn’t say anything, so instead, I said too much.”
Her grandfather hummed, a soft agreement.
Nina blinked away the tears, and noticed a misty drizzle had begun to fall. The grass glistened, the muted light from the house casting a shadow of luminescence on the blades. “He always provoked me until I jumped before I thought.”
“Part of growing up is learning not to be provoked.” Paw-Paw slid the wisdom in like her Maw-Maw used to slide a piece of sweet-potato pie in front of her.
“You’re right.” It settled into her. The wisdom and the love. The mature understanding of what she’d come from, and why she’d become a person who could hurt her man. “It isn’t Papa’s fault, however. It’s mine.”
The drizzle turned to a downpour in a flash. Just as it did here on the bayou. The wind went cool with rain, though steam rose from the warm water of the creek. A shiver of reverence skittered into her soul, making goose bumps rise on her arm. She felt as if the weather, her grandfather, and Fate all conspired together to deliver a message that resonated deep inside.
From around the edge of the cottage, a dark figure appeared, ambling toward the porch where they sat.
Nina jumped in her chair, thinking for a moment Fate had come to life, ready to deliver more hard truths she needed to absorb before she was worthy.
“You are worthy right now, granddaughter.” Paw-Paw’s voice rose above the wind. “Now it’s time you prove it to him.”
Him? This stranger walking toward them?
The soft light from the house struck the brim of a black leather hood, and the jut of a familiar jaw. His ambling pace stuttered to a stop.
“Luc?” Her heart started a racket in her chest.
“The boy arrived several days ago, much to my surprise. We’ve been talking.”
“He’s been here?” Irritation scattered her previous awe. “While I’ve been searching for him all over New Orleans, he’s been here?”
“I reckoned you’d find your way here eventually.” Her grandfather’s calm voice didn’t waver. “And I was right.”
Luc strode toward them once more and came up the porch’s steps to stand on the far side of her grandfather. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she felt the burn of his glare. “What’s she doing here?”
The old man between them chuckled. Other than that, though, he stayed silent.
Before a wild, shrill accusation burst from her mouth, Nina took in a deep breath of cool, rainy air.
You must grow into the woman you were meant to be.
She had. Just a few minutes ago, she had. There was still things she needed to work on, yet, in the central part of her soul, she’d stepped across the line to maturity. “It’s time we talked, Luc.”
“Really?” He shoved the hood of his jacket off, and now she saw the damage she caused.
The edge of his jaw was tight with rejection, and even in the dim light, she spotted the naked rage in his eyes. His body’s every muscle was taut, as if he expected another blow.
Standing, she faced his pain. “Really. I’m asking you for some time.”
“You’ve asked me for too damn much.” His hands fisted at his sides, but she took heart when he didn’t storm off into the rain.
“Mais.” Paw-Paw rose, too. “Time for me to head for bed.”
The soft clunk of the screen door punctuated his departure. Leaving the two of them staring at each other from across the long length of the porch.
Luc said nothing. He only glared.
Which actually was saying something.
Her brain flittered around the fact he and her grandfather had apparently spent days together. Without killing each other. Why would her love head here, of all places?
But first things first.
“I’m sorry,” she stated, with as simple a grace as she could. “I did a terrible thing.”
“You said a terrible thing,” he growled. “Something you didn’t have permission to do.”
“You’re right.” Chancing a step forward, her heart fell when he took a step away. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
His gaze grew fierce. “I don’t give a damn about me. You hurt my parents.”
This was so like him, so like the man she’d come to love with a trembling wonder. To think of others before himself. To worry about other people’s feelings, instead of taking care of his own soul. “I’ve talked to them and apologized.”
He stilled. “You did what?”
“I reached out to them. Of course I would. I did and said a terrible thing.”
“And I suppose they forgave you, just like that.”
Feeling as if she’d dipped her toe into a bog and not sure where to step next, she edged forward anyway. “They did.”
With a snort, he swiveled away and paced down to the other end of the porch. The rain fell on the roof, tat-tat-tatting its way into their exchange like a drumbeat. Nina padded toward him, relieved he didn’t take off completely.
His shoulders hunched, as if he felt her coming.
“Isn’t forgiving part of loving?” She wanted to reach over and touch the center of his back, except she sensed he wasn’t ready. Maybe he never would be and the realization dragged on her hopes. “Isn’t it true everyone makes mistakes?”
The line of his shoulders stiffened. “It wasn’t a mere mistake. Talking out of turn was a decision you made.”
The truth of his words echoed around her like a dirge. Now it was her time to hunch her shoulders. “You’re right.”
A short silence fell, the storm’s rage the only sound.
“Tell me why you told my secrets to your family,” he finally said.
It
was one thing to tell her past with her papa to her grandfather. It was a quantum leap to tell it to a man she wanted to impress with her maturity. A man who only recently labeled her a baby. Fear lanced through her as another lightning bolt crackled, sending a shot of electricity into the steaming, sultry air.
She prided herself on being free and fun. On being open about herself and her dreams. Yet she realized she’d never been one to share her deepest fears or hidden hurts. Light and easy was her game.
But this wasn’t a game, was it?
Sucking in a breath, Nina took another step toward becoming a mature woman.
Chapter 33
Luc had stayed with Bade Blanchard to escape. Pure and simple, if that were possible in his screwed up, complex life.
He wanted to escape the whispers and gossip of his street’s neighbors. He wanted to escape the responsibility of his restaurant, escape his parents’ expectations. He wanted to escape the draw of Nina and her attempts to make amends.
Staying with her grandfather was stupidity in the extreme, because there was so much of the granddaughter in the man. Yet he’d accepted the offer to stay over the garage when it had been delivered. He’d told himself he was too tired to drive back to the city that night. The next morning, he’d told himself he’d stay for breakfast only. And then, he’d stay because the old man told him there was good fishing at dusk. Somehow, he’d found himself repairing some steps and moving furniture around and tinkering with an old Ford truck he’d stumbled on in the garage.
He should have left immediately. Holed himself up in an anonymous hotel until he got himself together.
Instead, he’d put himself in this situation. Knowing Nina and Bade Blanchard and their close bond, he should have realized she’d eventually show up. But since she was here, he might as well get answers to unanswerable questions.
Glaring out into the storm, he waited.
“My papa doesn’t love me.” Her words fell between them, a stark declaration that vibrated through the humid air. “He’s never even liked me.”