“I can still make a toast.” He pretended to raise a glass. “To my wife. May she forgive me in this lifetime.”
Holly set her glass down. “I won’t forgive you in a hundred lifetimes. I did everything you said. You aren’t supposed to be here.”
Burl dug his toe across the hardwood floor. “You can’t blame me for trying. All I want is for you to be happy.”
“Happy? Ha! How can I be happy? You can’t leave the only place on earth I love, and I can’t leave Holly Grove.”
“You mean won’t.” Burl pointed to the purchase offer. “One stroke of the pen and you’re free of me.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“No need. You won’t do it.”
The doorbell chimed, and Holly grabbed a bowl of candy for the trick-or-treaters. She marched to the front door, with Rhett yapping beside her.
“Just because you’re mad at me, don’t take it out on the little goblins.”
Holly huffed, then opened the door.
Jake stood on the porch, holding two suitcases. He sported a tropical tan, a killer smile, and a sparkle in his eyes that would light up any woman’s world. “I hear you rent rooms by the month.”
“I do,” she said, taking a step back.
“How about by the year?” He strode into the foyer and set the suitcases on the floor.
Her heart pounded against her ribs. “What are you saying?”
“ICE liked the work I did here so well, they’ve reassigned me to the New Orleans unit.”
“Why would you accept that?” She placed the candy on the Empire table. “You never liked Delta Ridge.”
Jake shrugged. “Maybe I never knew the place. Look, I’ve got a few debts to pay here. Sam secretly paid my college tuition.” He blew out a heavy breath. “And I missed a lot of years with Mackie. He’s sober now, and I want to make sure he stays that way.”
So his coming back has nothing to do with me. “Then why not live with him?”
He closed the distance between them. “Because I want to keep an eye on you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Should I count the ways?” He put his hands on her shoulders in a brotherly way and looked down at her. “You and all of Delta Ridge know you have a nose for trouble.”
She lifted her chin a fraction. “Maybe trouble has a nose for me, starting with you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You think you can just waltz in and out of my life at will.”
“I don’t waltz anywhere, and I never made a promise I didn’t keep. I promised you I’d keep you safe, and I’m going to. The cartel could move in under your nose, and you’d never know it.”
“I can take care of what goes on at Holly Grove. And I thought you wanted to see the world, have adventure, and everything that isn’t in Delta Ridge.” The only place she wanted to be.
“Oh, I will. I’ll still take undercover assignments anywhere ICE sends me. I’ll just have a new home base, if we can work out a deal.”
Did he just look at my boobs? “A deal?”
“I’ll be away more than I’m here. Between assignments, I’ll keep this old house from going to rot and ruin. All you have to do is have a room, any room, available for me when I come in.”
Holly lifted a shoulder. “But what if the rooms are all rented out?”
“There’s always your bed.” He laced his hands behind the small of her back. “I’m willing to share if you are.”
“Over my dead body,” Burl said, glaring at Jake.
“Remember, I have a ghost that may not cotton to that idea.” Though she might under the right conditions, which she’d never have with Burl around.
“Holly, he’s dead.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “What does it matter what he thinks?”
Her resolve was melting faster than the four flakes of snow they got last year. “It’s not just what he thinks. He’s always here and always will be. The only way out is for me to sell.” She grabbed the purchase offer from the Empire table. “Duke and Toni want to buy it. All I have to do is sign this.”
“Whoa there.” Burl stepped between them. “Let’s not rush into anything.”
She tried to ignore Burl since Jake didn’t know he was there.
Burl stared at Jake for a long moment. “Okay. I get it. You think this guy could make you happy. I couldn’t. But I tried.” He looked back at Holly. “I meant it when I told you all I wanted was for you to be happy.”
Slack jawed, Holly stared at Burl.
“Is your ghost—I mean Burl—here?” Jake asked, following her gaze.
“Afraid so.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“I know you can’t forgive me.” Burl bowed his head. “I deserve to go to hell for what I’ve put you through, so I’m going to take my punishment.” He glanced toward the open front door. “Out there.”
“What’s he saying?”
“He’s babbling on about taking his punishment. If he walks outside, he goes to hell.” She shoved a hand on her hip and eyed Burl. “He won’t do it. I’m stuck with him, and if you move in, you’re stuck with him, too. Complications, you know. Unless I sign this.”
Jake took one look at the paper and tore it in half. “I can handle complications. You and Holly Grove belong together.”
“That’s my cue if I’ve ever heard one.” Burl walked toward the open front door.
Flames licked through the door, and all the outdoors blazed like a raging furnace.
Jake pulled Holly back. “What the hell is going on here?”
“Can you see the fire?” she asked, clinging to Jake.
He nodded.
“Looks like home to me.” Burl smiled at Holly. “I know you can’t forgive me, Blondie. And that’s okay. I don’t know why, but I feel good about this. Closure, I guess.”
She didn’t want to send him to hell. He hadn’t deserved her forgiveness at first, but Burl had proved to be a better man dead.
“Don’t do it,” she screamed. “I forgive you.”
And she meant it.
The flames died like a lit match under glass. A bright light shone through the door.
Burl smiled at Holly. “Do you hear that?”
“No,” Holly said.
“The angels are calling me. St. Peter says my unfinished business was your forgiveness.” He shrugged. “Who knew?”
He looked at Jake. “Take care of Blondie. Believe me, the man upstairs is watching what you do.”
“I will,” Jake said.
“You can hear Burl?”
Jake nodded and put his arm around her.
“I was going to make a toast.” Burl winked. “Thanks for setting me free, Holly.”
Burl slipped off his wedding ring and tossed it in the air. It landed on the hardwood floor and spun like a dime as he walked into the light and out of Holly’s life forever.
RECIPES
HOLLY GROVE MINT JULEP
As y’all know, I’m not much of a cook. Spirits are my specialty. Not the ghostly kind. Mercy. I could live without those. Wicked good cocktails make living worth the effort on some days. In the spirit of Southern hospitality, I welcome every guest with a mint julep in a silver mint julep cup. You, dear reader, are my virtual guest at Holly Grove. The least I can do is give you my mint julep recipe so you can sip and read. I haven’t poisoned anyone yet! Enjoy.
6–10 fresh mint leaves, plus 1 nice sprig for garnish (The small leaves are sweeter. I pluck the sprig down to three leaves to represent past, present, and future good times. No one knows this, but it feels like making luck, and who doesn’t need a little luck?)
1 jigger mint-flavored simple syrup (Since making simple syrup requires cooking, I use store-bought mint-flavored simple syrup. The nice man in the brown uniform delivers it by the case to the front door of Holly Grove.)
Enough crushed ice to overflow a mint julep cup (Yes, it must be crushed. If you have to, take a hammer to cubed ice. Just dump the ice in a plastic bag, then wrap it in a d
ish towel and get after it. Watch your thumbs.)
3 jiggers bourbon (Pick your poison. Any bourbon will do.)
Mixology:
Place the mint leaves in the bottom of a mint julep cup. Y’all above the Mason-Dixon Line may not have a set of julep cups handy, so just use a short, sturdy glass. An old-fashioned or lowball glass works pretty darned good.
Drizzle a little of the simple syrup over the mint. Muddle the mint in the bottom of the cup or glass. If you have a wooden muller, use that. I use a sturdy wooden spoon. Muddling is gentle. Press down gently on the mint and twist. Don’t mutilate it. That makes the mint bitter, and all the little shreds of mint can seem like grass clippings when you drink the mint julep. (I learned that the hard way, like everything else. Mercy.) Just work the mint enough to let the oils and the aroma out.
Mound up the crushed ice like a snowball over the mint in the julep cup or glass. Mix the bourbon and the remaining simple syrup in a separate glass and then pour the mixture over the crushed ice. The mound of ice will settle down to the rim of the cup or glass.
Stir the mint julep and garnish with the reserved sprig of mint. Sit back and sip like you’re on the front balcony of Holly Grove, in spirit.
Serves 1
* Note: I keep a jug of julep mix in the fridge to make serving easy when I know I have guests checking in. If you have a crowd coming for cocktails, just multiply the bourbon and mint-flavored simple syrup by the number of people in your crowd, mix the two ingredients together, and keep the julep mix in a jug in the fridge. Mull the mint in the julep cups, then cover the cups with plastic wrap. Keep them ready and waiting in the fridge. When your guests arrive, all you have to do is scoop crushed ice into the julep cups, shake up the julep mix, pour it over the ice, garnish, and serve.
NELDA’S BOURBON PECAN PRALINES
I don’t know how I let little Miss Hurricane Holly talk me out of this recipe. I know she can’t make ’em, bless her heart. Maybe you can, but don’t spread this recipe around. My pralines are a special treat just for Holly Grove and folks I like enough to cook for.
¾ cup granulated sugar (Cane sugar is best, and don’t even think about that fake stuff.)
¾ cup firmly packed light brown sugar (Just pat it down good and tight in the cup.)
½ cup canned milk (Some folks call this evaporated milk.)
1 tablespoon bourbon (This is my secret ingredient. Don’t tell Jake. He’s a teetotaler.)
1 tablespoon butter (Real butter. No oleo or fake stuff.)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (The real stuff. If it says imitation, it is.)
1 cup unsalted whole pecans (Get some nice fat ones, fresh, too.)
This is the important part:
Mix together the white sugar and the light brown sugar in a nice-sized pot with a thick bottom (but not in an iron skillet). Pour in the canned milk and the bourbon and mix that up, too.
Then place the pot on a burner, turn the fire up to medium, and start stirring and keep stirring. After the mixture thickens up a bit, scoop some up on a spoon and drop it in a clear glass filled with cold water. If that drop spreads out and looks kinda fuzzy in the water, keep stirring the pot, because the mixture needs to cook some more. If it makes a nice soft ball, take your pot off the fire quick, because the sugar mixture is ready. Don’t it smell good! If the mixture makes a hard ball that looks like glass, bless your heart. You’ve made hard candy. Take a swig of bourbon and start over.
Stir in the butter and the vanilla extract, then the pecans. Stir real good but not for too long, because you don’t want the mixture to set up yet. Now get you a spoon, a big one if you want big pralines or a little one if you want lady-size pralines. I make the lady ones for Holly Grove and get a dozen out of the batch.
Spread out a nice sheet of waxed paper. If you don’t have any, go buy some. Nothin’ else will do. Use your spoon and scoop up a spoonful of the praline mixture and put it on the waxed paper. Repeat until all the pralines have been formed. They may be a little runny at first, but the pralines will start to set up as soon as you spoon them out. The last of the batch will be stiffer. Give ’em a few minutes to set up good, and then peel ’em off the waxed paper and put them on a china plate.
If you did it right, you’ll have a sweet taste of Holly Grove and the South that will melt in your mouth.
Love y’all,
Nelda Varnado
First-Prize Winner (The big skillet)
Haunted Pilgrimage Tour of Homes
Holly Grove Plantation Home and B & B
Delta Ridge, Louisiana
* Note from the author: This is the recipe my husband’s aunt, Suetee Kopfler, used to make pralines for seventy years. Her pralines were a special treat, and I’m thankful she shared her recipe with me and Nelda. Of course, Nelda had to add a secret ingredient, bourbon, to make them hers. The bourbon is optional but tasty.
Love Holly’s adventures?
Keep reading for a sneak peek at the next
B & B Spirits Mystery,
DOWNRIGHT DEAD
Coming soon from
Pamela Kopfler
and
Kensington Books
CHAPTER 1
“I don’t see dead people anymore, and that’s a good thing.” Holly Davis swirled her latest attempt at a Sazerac in a Waterford lowball glass. The ruby color of the cocktail sparkled against the crystal. Maybe this effort would be guest-worthy. She lifted her glass to Nelda, the best cook in St. Agnes Parish, her housekeeper, and the closest thing she had to family. “The only spirit at Holly Grove these days is in this glass.”
“You sure ’bout that?” Nelda’s brows flattened as she stared up at the steady glow of the milk-glass pendant light in the circa 1928 kitchen, which was modern compared to the rest of Holly’s antebellum B & B. Nelda shoved her hands on her generous hips. “That thing’s been flickering like a lightning bug off and on all day.”
Holly took a sip of the Sazerac and shivered. Her taste buds offered a vague rejection. Too what? Strong? Sweet? Wrong whiskey? “It’s not flickering now.”
“No. But Burl, God rest his soul,” Nelda said, making the sign of the cross, “he always messed with me when your back was turned or you weren’t around.” She snatched a cup towel off her shoulder and folded it into a pad. “You ain’t been in here making gumbo and bread pudding all afternoon with that light show.”
Holly glanced at her Yorkie, curled up and sleeping in a sliver of what was left of the afternoon sun. “But you know Rhett yapped anytime Burl was around.”
Rhett opened one sleepy eye when she said his name, but he didn’t budge.
“That pup’s been snoring all afternoon long. He wouldn’t know if Jesus came in here.”
“He hasn’t been here, either.” Holly strolled across the cypress planks to the deep porcelain sink and dumped her failed Sazerac down the drain. “Hell evidently froze over in south Louisiana last week and bit back all the mint within miles. I always welcome guests with a Holly Grove mint julep, but that’s out, and that Sazerac was nowhere near guest-ready.”
“I hope all that flickerin’ didn’t make me mess up my bread puddin’, like your Sazerac.” Nelda shook her head, then opened the oven. “Is your Jake really coming this time?”
“He’s not my Jake by any stretch of the imagination, but he swore he’d be here.” If he cancels this time, I’m done. Since ICE sent him to Guatemala for a sting on some kid three months ago, he’d called her exactly three times, from three different numbers. Every call had been shorter than the last. This girl can take a hint.
“Humph. I’m gonna make it worth his while, even if you don’t. You know how he loves my bread puddin’.” Nelda grinned and pulled out a pan of golden deliciousness from the oven. The sugary aroma wafted into the room and mixed with the savory bouquet of the gumbo simmering on the stove.
Steam curling from the gumbo pot reminded Holly of one of Burl’s more memorable entrances. While it lasted, having a ghost at Holly Grove h
ad been good for business, but it wasn’t worth keeping the ghost of her sorry excuse of an ex-husband for life.
Nelda’s cooking was good for business, too, but Holly doubted it would bring Jake McCann back. It had taken him fifteen years to come back to Delta Ridge after the first time he left.
Nelda picked up her favorite wooden spoon, which looked more like a paddle, and stirred her gumbo. “It’s flirtin’ with ready.”
The pendant light flickered.
Nelda spun around, wide eyed. Gumbo dripped from her wooden spoon and spattered on the cypress floor. “I told you.”
Rhett roused and trotted to the spattering of gumbo. Just like a man—selective hearing . . . and sight.
“The bulb is probably loose.” Holly shrugged. She’d witnessed her not-so-dearly departed ex’s dramatic exit. “Burl is gone for good.”
Rhett licked his lips and stared up at the spoon, as though he could will another dribble of gumbo to fall.
“You didn’t make up that story for Nelda just so I wouldn’t quit on you, did ya?”
“I swear.” Holly crossed her heart, then gave the CliffsNotes version of the story she’d told Nelda too many times. “Bright lights. Trumpets on high. Better than any Hollywood movie. And poof. Burl was gone.”
“And he’s at rest ’cause—”
“In the end, he earned it.” And she’d found peace in that, too.
“Praise be.” Nelda glanced over each shoulder, as if Burl could hear her. “God rest his sorry soul.”
“But remember, don’t tell anyone our ghost is gone,” Holly said. “All the most successful B & Bs have ghosts, and Holly Grove needs that edge to make it.”
“I won’t tell it, but I won’t lie, neither. I’m planning on goin’ through those pearly gates one day, too.” Nelda stirred her award-winning gumbo, then rapped her big wooden spoon on the side of the pot. She turned and eyed Holly. “The whole world is gonna think Holly Grove is haunted after tonight.”
Better Dead Page 28