by Rhodi Hawk
“Yeah, I pretty much stink. But I can get some skills. How hard can it be?”
She laughed. Straight from the bottom of her belly.
Ethan said, “I know, I know. Famous last words. But, come on, now, what do you think?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure what to think. Put it in a pot. Give a little rot.”
Madeleine looked at Ethan, the waning light glinting off his strong chin. She understood what he really wanted to do here. Circle the wagons. Create a fortress. Though they had a reprieve from Zenon and Chloe for the moment, the entire matter was far from settled.
Homesteading at Terrefleurs felt like a distant, romantic idea. But not an impossible one. Not impossible at all.
The Lexus turned onto River Road after the big truck, and Madeleine leaned her head back to try to catch a glimpse of the old place. All that time spent there today—now she wished she’d taken a more careful look. Wasn’t there an old piano in the parlor? She wondered what it would take to restore a thing like that.
She felt a light touch as Ethan closed his hand over hers. It felt clean and warm, and even soft—not the hands of a man who was used to swinging a hammer. But the whole notion gave her such a delight she couldn’t help but grin.
Maybe.
Tomorrow they could think it through some more. Tonight they were safe. Right now they were safe. And right now was lovely.
Epilogue
LOUISIANA, NOW
EMILY SAT ON THE floor with her son. Cooper wasn’t playing with his blocks. Hadn’t touched them since that morning.
AUNTIE, he’d spelled out several weeks ago. It had frightened Emily. At the time, she’d broken her wrist falling down the stairs like an idiot. Later, when she’d dared come back to the attic again, she’d thrown the blocks into the square red bucket and snapped the lid closed. And then she’d packed all their clothes into suitcases. Even now most of Coop’s toys were in a backpack. Only three stayed out for him to play with—the blocks, a flashing count-and-spell game, and the green dinosaur he was playing with now. And the only reason these toys were out was because they’d been in the bucket by the playpen back when Emily went on her packing frenzy.
She’d been poised to leave that very day. But she hadn’t been able to, not with the broken wrist and payday still five days off. And finals had been only a week off. It had seemed silly to ruin an entire semester with just a few days to go.
She knew it wasn’t Cooper doing that thing with the blocks. It was something inside him. Or connected to him.
By the time finals came around she’d talked herself out of leaving. Of all the LeBlancs, the “auntie” in question was not one Emily worried too much about. What was Madeleine going to do, march up to Wolfville and call dragons up from the sea? Zenon Lansky was the scary one, even if he was practically a vegetable. And Marc’s great-grandmother—old Miss Chloe. A far cry from Emily’s mom, whom Cooper was already calling Nanna. Emily’s mom was sweet, if high-strung and maybe a touch overbearing. Emily wished for her now to the point of heartache.
Seven weeks had passed since Cooper’d used the blocks like that and they were still living out of the suitcases.
“Rawr,” Emily said softly to her son as he wielded the dinosaur at her.
“Rawr!” he said back, eyes wide and grin wider.
The phone rang.
It wasn’t her cell phone—the ringing came from the Sweet William Inn landline installed in her room. It almost never rang unless a spill needed mopping or an errand needed to be run. She looked down at her rumpled clothes, overly creased from the suitcase, and hoped whatever it was wouldn’t mean interfacing with guests.
“I look like a dag-gum gypsy,” she muttered as she stepped to the desk.
Cooper continued waving his dinosaur and mashing it against the toy bucket.
She put the receiver to her ear. “Hello?”
“Emily, don’t hang up.”
Madeleine LeBlanc’s voice. Emily’s fingers tightened on the handset. But as much as that LeBlanc family terrified her, homesickness arced over all of it and Emily felt a wave of comfort at the sound of Madeleine’s voice.
Madeleine spoke again. “Just hear me out, OK? I’m calling because I think you and Cooper might be in danger if you stay up there.”
Emily looked over at the blocks Cooper had arranged that very morning. The N was upside-down, but she could still read it just fine. It said, GRAN. She’d felt so helpless when she’d watched him do that. Didn’t know what to do.
Emily still didn’t say anything, but Madeleine continued. “I understand why you moved away from Louisiana. My brother Marc told you to do that just before he died, didn’t he? For your own good. I think he was right to do that. But things have changed. It’s no longer safe for you.”
Emily said, “Why? What’s changed?”
“It’s no good to hide anymore. Cooper needs to be in a safe place. Up there in Wolfville, you’re all alone.”
“You know where I live.”
“Of course I do!”
Emily was quiet a moment and then she said, “Of course you do.”
And then they were both quiet.
Finally, Madeleine said, “What I’m saying, the reason I’m calling is, I’d like you to consider going back home.”
“I just started up classes again.”
“It’s important.”
Emily nodded, her heart thumping. It sounded right to her. It felt right. Time to go home.
She asked, “When do you … suggest…?”
“Right now. You should leave tonight. Do you understand why?”
“Not really. No, I guess on some level I do.”
“I can try to explain when you get home to your mother’s. If you’re comfortable talking to me.”
Emily nodded again, knowing Madeleine couldn’t see her do it, but having lost the ability to speak for the lump in her throat. The idea of seeing her mom. Cooper’s nanna. She knew that she was going to do exactly what Madeleine suggested. Pack up the car, leave tonight. Make apologies to the Inn and call the school later to formally pull out of classes.
She would be home in a matter of days. Cooper would see his nanna. Everything was about to change. Everything.
ALSO BY RHODI HAWK
A Twisted Ladder
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE TANGLED BRIDGE
Copyright © 2012 by Rhodi Hawk
All rights reserved.
Cover photographs by Tim Fitzharris/Minden Pictures/Getty Images (bayou) and Michael Winnerholt/Getty Images (skull)
Map by Jackie Aher
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
The Library of Congress has catalogued the print edition as follows:
Hawk, Rhodi.
The tangled bridge / Rhodi Hawk.—1st ed.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
ISBN 978-0-7653-2497-9 (trade paperback)
ISBN 978-1-4299-8592-5 (e-book)
1. Women psychologists—Fiction. 2. Family secrets—Fiction. 3. New Orleans (La.)—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3608.A884T36 2012
813'.6—dc23
2012019877
e-ISBN 9781429985925
First Edition: October 2012
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