by Elle James
With her clothes dripping dry on her body, Elaine felt certain she looked like a reject from the Salvation Army with a Little Orphan Annie hairstyle.
The woman looked down her nose at Elaine and immediately turned her attention to the men coming up behind her. “Craig!” she called out arid rushed to him, flinging her arms around his neck and pressing her perfectly tailored suit to his hip-waders. “I've missed you so much.”
“Cassandra, what are you doing here?” Craig's voice was clipped and didn't sound too happy.
“I came because you asked me to, silly.”
All of Elaine's righteous indignation about the Littington fiasco paled in comparison to the way her heart hit rock bottom. Apparently, there were other things Craig had failed to tell her, proving he hadn't meant for their relationship to last. He already had a girlfriend, one who could blend in with his circles in New Orleans much better than a dweeb scientist who was afraid of the water.
While loverboy was hugging his Cassandra, Elaine slipped away to shower the smell of bayou water from her hair. If only she could wash the heartache away with the smell. Exhausted beyond belief, she trudged her way to her rented cottage, locking the door behind her.
Tonight would be her first night alone since she and Craig had started their steamy romps in the sack. She could only stand to be in the bedroom long enough to gather fresh clothing on her way to the bathroom. She'd sleep on the couch and pack her stuff tomorrow. Her stay in Bayou Miste was over. Time to face reality and get back to the university. So you can resume hiding behind your microscope? No way. She'd overcome that phase in her life. Damned if she'd let herself backslide.
Two hours at the hospital, with Cassandra yammering in one ear while his uncle read him the riot act in the other, gave Craig a splitting headache. Finally convinced his uncle had no more lasting damage than a broken rib, Craig dropped him off at his house with a bottle of painkillers and a lecture on taking it easy.
Cassandra was another story entirely. Trying to get rid of her was like a fly trying to shake sticky flypaper. Until she saw his sleeping quarters in the back of... as she put it... the worm-infested bait shop, she thought she was going to sleep with him. Craig put his foot down and sent her back to Morgan City and the closest Holiday Inn with room service.
Finally alone, he grabbed a phone and dialed Jason Littington. He had some business to conduct with the man. Never mind that the clock read three AM. Craig's life was crashing around him and he didn't have time for pleasantries.
“Mr. Littington? This is Craig Thibodeaux.”
“Craig, why the heck are you calling me at this hour?”
“You got trouble, sir. If you don't want to go to jail, meet me at my uncle's bait shop, ASAP.”
“What -”
“Just do it.” Craig said, his voice firm. “And come alone.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
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Elaine blinked at the sun streaking through the cottage window to her makeshift bed on the couch. Once again, she'd slept the day away when she should have been working. Didn't she have some frogs to dissect or specimens to investigate beneath her microscope?
She'd tossed and turned on the couch cushions until dawn before she'd drifted off. Her sleep hadn't been any more restful. With voodoo drums beating and ominous chanting filling her dreams, she felt like she'd been offered up as a sacrifice in some pagan ritual only to be rejected. Even in her dreams she didn't fit in.
What was it she was supposed to do today? Something big. She sat up and pushed the mass of tangled curls from her face and waited for her fuzzy head to clear. When it did, her empty stomach grumbled. Or was that her empty heart? Oh yeah. The beautiful Cassandra had come for Craig and Elaine was supposed to be packing to leave Bayou Miste.
If Cassandra was the type of woman he wanted, no way Elaine Smith could measure up. Nor did she want to. If she'd learned one thing, she'd learned she couldn't be who she wasn't. She could improve on herself, but she couldn't and wouldn't change deep down. Hers was a case of “love me as I am, or don't love me at all.”
Unfortunately, Craig would choose the latter, if he hadn't already. Besides, he wasn't the man she'd thought he was. Why hadn't he told her he was involved with Littington Enterprises and trusted her to either understand or give him the chance to explain? He hadn't done that. He'd strung her along to further his own interests, just like Brian.
Well, who needed him, anyway?
You do. The little voice in her head sounded very much like the chanting she'd heard in her dreams.
A knock sounded at the door. Who could that be? Elaine looked down at her Tweety-Bird T-shirt and flannel boxer shorts and shrugged. With her new “what you see is what you get” attitude, she opened the door.
Mozelle stood there with her requisite basket full of sweet-smelling pastries and a smile bright enough to light the Chrysler building. “Howdy, neighbor. Thought you could use a little midday snack.”
“Oh, hi, Mozelle.” Elaine opened the door for the woman. With all the enthusiasm of one marching to the guillotine, she turned and padded barefooted into the kitchen to start some go-juice in the coffeemaker.
“What's wrong dear? Are you not feeling well?” Mozelle set the basket on the table and touched her hand to Elaine's forehead. “No fever.”
“I'm fine.” If you don't count a broken heart.
“I heard y'all had some trouble out on the swamp.”
Elaine shook her head. “Good news travels fast around here.”
“I was by to see Joe earlier.” Mozelle blushed. “Needless to say, I was shocked to find him injured. And you, my dear, were you injured as well?”
“No, I wasn't injured.” Just my heart.
“Joe told me that Cassandra woman showed up bookin' for Craig last night.” Mozelle peered closer at Elaine. “Is that what's got your panties in a wad?”
Good news really did travel fast. Elaine forced her tone to be light. “Why should it?”
“I know I'd be upset if I saw the man I was head over heels for huggin' some other woman.”
Turning her back to Mozelle, Elaine said, “I'm not head over heels for him. Who said I was?”
“Honey, your words say one thing, your face says another.”
Elaine raised a hand to her cheek and sank to the shiny red vinyl chair. “Oh this is awful. I can't be in love with Craig.”
Mozelle stood next to Elaine and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Sweet pea, there's nothing awful about lovin' someone. It's a gift.”
“A gift if the feeling is returned, a curse if it isn't.” Elaine laid her head on the table. “He wouldn't want my love, even if I offered it up with a free sports car.”
“How do you know if you don't ask?”
“Ask? Mozelle, if you'd seen that woman... I couldn't compete with her. She's perfect, and I'm...” glanced down at her faded Tweety, lifted a tangled curl and shook her head, “...I' m just me.”
“Maybe that's what Craig wants. He's lived in New Orleans all his life surrounded by everything money has to offer. You have something he can't buy.”
“I do?” Elaine looked up hopelessly. “Like what?”
“You have genuine compassion and a heart worth takin' a risk for.” Mozelle grabbed her hands and stared into Elaine's eyes. “Honey, you're real. From what Joe told me, Cassandra wouldn't know love if it hit her smack-dab in her chemically and surgically enhanced face.”
“It's no use, Mozelle. I don't belong here. I need to go back where I do.”
“You gonna tuck your tail between your legs and run?” The older woman folded her arms across her chest. “I thought you had more gumption than that. What did I tell you about fighting for your man?”
“He's not my man!” Elaine wailed. “I don't even know who he is. He knew J wanted to stop the pollution, yet he represents the man who's causing it. We have nothing in common, nothing.” Elain
e turned her back to Mozelle, fighting a losing baffle to keep the tears from falling. First one slid down her cheek, followed by another and before too long, a steady stream dripped off her chin.
“Have you given him a chance to explain?” Mozelle asked.
With a shake of her head, Elaine stared down at her hands.
An arm draped over Elaine's shoulder, and the older woman pulled her close. “You got the most important thing in common, sweetie. You got love. Everything else can be worked out.”
Steeling herself from the warmth and comfort Mozelle offered, Elaine stiffened and pulled away. “No, we don't, and no, it can't.”
“That boy loves you. I saw how he looked at you at the Raccoon Saloon the other night.”
“That wasn't love.” Elaine smacked her palm against the table. “What you saw was an ordinary case of lust.”
“Not the way he stuck up for you. I really, truly believe he cares. He just doesn't always know how to show it. Besides, it's just like a man to be stubborn and bullheaded about sharin' his feelin's. You can't expect the impossible. Why, look at me. I've waited the past ten years for Joe to notice I exist. Ten years too long. Sometimes you gotta take matters into yer own hands.”
Elaine scrubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. “I can't, Mozelle. I just can't.”
The older woman planted her fists on her hips and tapped a toe against the wooden floor. “So that's it? Yer just gonna hightail it out of here without a goodbye, by yer leave, or kiss my grits?”
“Yes.” Elaine grabbed a tissue and blew. “The sooner the better.”
“What about the pollution? Who'll make sure they stop?”
“I'll call the EPA and give them the information I know over the phone. Joe can show them where we found the barrel. They'll investigate and prosecute as necessary.”
Ms. Reneau wrapped her arms around her middle and shuffled to the window, her shoulders hunched, appearing older than she had since Elaine had known her. “What about the friends you made here? Don'tcha think we'll miss you?”
“Oh, Mozelle.” Elaine crossed the floor and pulled the other woman into a tight hug. “I'm going to miss you.” She fought against the tears choking her vocal chords. “You can come see me in New Orleans.”
“Don't have much call for goin' to the Big Easy. They drive too fast for my likin'.”
“You could get Josie to bring you.”
“Don't know that I like how fast she drives either,” Mozelle said.
“But you'll do it?” Elaine held her at arm's length. The woman's answer meant more to her than she thought possible, considering the few short days they'd known each other. “Won't you?”
“Sure, honey. I'll come see you. But I still think you ought to reconsider and give Craig a chance to explain.”
Elaine's gaze settled on a far corner of the room. “I can't. I have to go home.”
Mozelle hugged her close, patting her back like a child. Then she set Elaine away and lifted her apron to wipe the tears from her eyes. “Well then, I guess there's not much else I can do to talk you out of it.”
“No, there's not,” Elaine said, mist fogging her eyes. “In fact, if I'm to get on the road before dark, I'd better start packing.”
Mozelle squeezed her fight once more. “I'm gonna miss you, Elaine Smith. You've been a little ray of sunshine in Bayou Miste. I hate to see you leave.”
“Thanks,” Elaine said over Mozelle's shoulder, “... for being my friend.”
Mozelle broke free, scrubbed a hand across her face and looked around. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I think I'd rather be alone to pack.” If Mozelle didn't leave soon, Elaine would be blubbering all over again. Who'd have thought in the little bitty town of Bayou Miste, she'd have found such a good friend in a woman old enough to be her mother?
“If you're sure, I'll just go check on Joe.” Mozelle's mouth lifted at the corners. “I think that ornery ol' poot likes playin' sick.”
Elaine forced a smile for Mozelle's happiness. “Go on, he needs you.” She only wished Craig needed her.
After Mozelle left, Elaine dragged boxes out into the living room and tossed in books, papers and pencils. When she got to her microscope, she hesitated, recalling the night Craig had held her after the house had been ransacked. At the time, she'd felt cared for. Craig had made love to her all night, his touch gentle and his passion equal to her own.
Had it all been an act? Elaine set the microscope on the table and looked around for newspaper to wrap it.
“Leaving?” a feminine voice asked from behind her.
Elaine spun to face the infamous and infinitely beautiful Cassandra. She wore a finely woven silk skirt suit with dyed-to-match strap sandals. Every one of her straight blond hairs was pulled back and secured in a neat French chignon. Not a stray tendril dared escape to destroy the perfect symmetry.
Elaine closed her eyes to keep from heaving air from her hollow belly. Tweety Bird still hung like an old rag from her shoulders over her flannel boxers whose hem had given up threads to the washing-machine monster years ago. What she wanted to do was crawl under the nearest paper bag and ignore the world.
Unfortunately, hiding was not an option. Elaine opened her eyes and plastered a smile on her face as if Cassandra's visit was no big deal. “Hi, should I know you?”
Cassandra's gaze ran the length from Elaine's disastrous hair to her bare feet. “I don't know. I had to come meet the woman everyone's been talking about.”
“Me?” Elaine squeaked.
“Since ten this morning, I've had no less than four visitors and at least two threatening phone calls, warning me to stay away from Craig and someone called Elaine.”
“You have?” Elaine's vocabulary escaped her. What was going on?
“Some man named Mo even threatened to turn his pet alligator loose in my hotel room.”
Mo? Elaine barely knew Mo. Why would he be warning Cassandra off Craig? “I don't understand.” Elaine pushed her hair away from her face.
“I don't either, especially since Craig called me last Saturday, begging me to come all the way from New Orleans to this godforsaken swamp.” Cassandra glanced around the interior of the cottage and back to Elaine. “Craig mentioned he had something important to ask me and he needed me down here as soon as possible.” She held out a hand and studied her coral-tipped fingernails.
“And it took you three days to get here?” Elaine could have pulled her tongue out and stomped all over it. Why should she care how long it took Cassandra to come to Bayou Miste after Craig's call?
Had Craig phoned Elaine with the promise of asking an important question, she sure as hell wouldn't have waited three days to mosey her way down to the bayou. She'd have broken speed limits in every parish from New Orleans to the center of the Atchafalaya Basin.
Is this woman kidding? Apparently looks weren't everything. She left a lot to be desired in mental faculties. Yet Craig had begged her to come to Bayou Miste with the promise of an important question.
Elaine's heart sank at what that important question had to be.
“Although Craig came here under the pretext of business, I figured he was here to contemplate the next step in our relationship and maybe to...” gaze flicked to Elaine, “... sow a few wild oats.”
Elaine gasped at the blatant slam. Try as she might, she couldn't halt the flood of heat to her cheeks as she recalled the wild oats they'd sown together. Irritation quickly followed embarrassment and she forced a hand to her hip. “Are you finished inspecting the oat fields? If so, I have work to do.”
As she studied Elaine, the luscious blonde's eyes narrowed, a considering gleam sparkling in their depths. “You're a bit more intelligent than his usual flings. He has a hit-and-run reputation, but make no mistake, he always comes back to me.”
Elaine flinched. Craig had said he wasn't the commitment type. Was Cassandra the reason?
A carefully plucked eyebrow rose over clear gray eyes. “You didn't t
hink he'd stay with you, did you?”
Cassandra's words hit like a punch to the gut. “Look, if you've come to gloat, save your breath. Craig means nothing to me.” Elaine swallowed the lump rising in her throat. “Now if you don't mind, I really have work to do.”
“You're making the right decision to leave. Craig and I have an understanding, and once we're married, I'm sure his little indiscretions will end.” Cassandra drew in a deep breath and blew it out. Then, with a cardboard smile, she stuck out her hand. “Ellen, it's been... interesting. I'll show myself out.”
Staring at the proffered hand, Elaine kept hers at her side. She had no intention of shaking the woman's hand or following her to the door.
Cassandra's smile slipped, and she dropped her hand and swung her purse over her shoulder. Her bag caught the microscope perched on the edge of the table and sent it flying to the floor. The device landed with a crash and the distinct sound of breaking glass.
The woman responsible for smashing Elaine's heart turned and stared down her nose at the microscope. “Did I do that?” She shrugged. “Just send the bill to Craig. He won't mind; we'll have joint accounts soon enough.”
Numb and hurting at the same time, Elaine moved around the cottage gathering her belongings, yet stepping around the broken microscope. She'd save that for last.
Packing took her longer than she'd thought. Just before the sun dropped below the tree line, she shoved the final box into the backseat of her sedan and retuned to the house for one last look and to collect her treasured microscope.
The place looked the same as the first day she'd set foot inside the front door, except for the angry red words on the wall.
The quaint cottage with vintage furniture stood ready for the next renter. Elaine walked over to the dinette with its speckled tabletop and bright-red vinyl seat cushions. She smiled, running her finger across the surface. Who'd have thought they still had tables like these? She switched the light off in the kitchen and turned toward the bedroom.
She'd left this room for last. The old white iron bed conjured memories best left behind. Craig lying there in nothing but a smile, stroking the hair from her face, trailing kisses down her neck.