Bayou Baby

by Miller, Renee

  Rowan backed out of the orchard slowly, watching the house as she went. When she reached the tree line, she ran. She wanted to watch Lucien as he discovered her present, and planned to relish the fear in his eyes as he scanned the property, wondering if she waited for him, but she would not risk capture. His turn was coming very soon.

  She would be there for all of it.

  CHAPTER 20

  Rowan waited in the tree house for Henri and Justine to return. She knew they’d spent the night away; the markers she’d left on the tree were still in place. No one had climbed up since the day before.

  She cleaned herself as best she could, slipping out of the soiled dress she’d stolen from Rosaline and putting on a dress that had belonged to her mother. The soft pink cotton clung to her, hugging her curves and the small bump of her stomach, flaring out at her hips. Seeing it brought a wave of grief but she stifled it. She would not regret what couldn’t be changed. Her mother was the past. She was living for the future.

  Rowan placed a trembling hand on her belly and smiled. The baby would have to be dealt with later, after she taught its father a thing or two about depravity. He had not yet scratched the surface.

  Her body was still covered in lesions and scars from Lucien’s abuses; she was reminded of the worst of it every time she peed. The sores there had finally begun to heal, though. Rowan figured they had taken longer because of their location. Each time the urine touched them they stung as though on fire, making her resolve to see that he suffered as much, or more, even stronger.

  Justine and Henri arrived long after the sun rose high above. Rowan tidied the little shack, hiding what evidence she could of their presence and packed provisions. She would go with them; it was wiser to keep moving. If the hideaway Henri had discovered wasn’t what she required, she would leave. They were becoming a nuisance to her anyway.

  “It’s the perfect place. Lucien will never look for us there.” Justine exclaimed while she shared a jar of peaches with Rowan.

  “He’s not looking for you.” Rowan pointed out. “He doesn’t care about the two of you anymore. Your best bet is to run as far away from here as you can.”

  “Are you suddenly able to read his mind?” Henri paced the shack.

  Rowan watched him, a grin on her face. “I know what he wants, and it’s not you.”

  “I won’t leave you. I’ve made a promise and I aim to keep it. You’re not as strong as you think you are.”

  “I’m stronger than you think I am.”

  “You are not invincible.”

  Rowan stood, straightening her dress. “I know that. But I have much less to lose than him, and that gives me the upper hand.”

  Henri raised an eyebrow. “How?”

  “He thinks he’s invincible.”

  “Compared to you, I’d say he is.”

  Rowan sighed. “He doesn’t realize how much I hate him, which is his first mistake. I know I must go at him with all I have, but I also know he’ll be arrogant, which will make him careless. That will be his downfall.”

  Henri ran a hand through his hair. The brown curls were tousled, unusual for a man who was usually fastidious about his appearance. Life in the swamp was not for Henri Fontaine. It didn’t agree with him at all.

  He sat on a stool opposite Justine and sighed. “I know you deserve your revenge. He should be punished for all he’s done, but you must listen to reason. Please.”

  “What is it I’m not seeing? I think I’m being perfectly rational.”

  “No, you aren’t.” Henri glanced at Justine, who kept her gaze on the peaches. “To take a man’s life is a serious thing. You may succeed in killing him, but at what cost?”

  Rowan smiled and touched his arm. “You worry over silly things, Henri. I won’t go to jail; no one will know who killed him. Believe me; he has many enemies. If it’s ever investigated, the police will find he has wronged so many they won’t be able to count the suspects.”

  “I see I’m wasting my time.” Henri shook his head. “Are you at least coming with us?”

  “Of course, I can’t stay in one place for too long. I will admit he’s too smart for me to do that. Tell me, where is this place you’ve found?”

  “Oh Rowan, it’s beautiful,” Justine gushed. She became animated once more as she spoke. Her hands fluttered like butterflies around her face. “It’s an old plantation; no one knows it belongs to Henri’s family. It’s been abandoned for so long the fields are overgrown and it’s very well hidden.”

  Rowan raised an eyebrow and turned to Henri. “You think he won’t think of this place? Come now, you’re telling me I’m being foolish?”

  “It belonged to my mother’s sister and her husband. They had no children so when he contracted tuberculosis and became gravely ill he willed it to me before his death. I was just an infant at the time.”

  “And your aunt?”

  “She moved away long ago, remarried an English gentleman and had a child. She hasn’t returned. The place is mine, but no one knows of the connection. It was so long ago, I nearly forgot about it.”

  “Why has it not been looked after? I would think your parents would at least maintain it for you.” Rowan couldn’t imagine letting something so valuable sit and rot. Then again, as Mama Gator often told her, rich folk were strange.

  “My mother expected her sister to return. The plantation had gone wild long before her brother-in-law passed anyway. He wasn’t a farmer and he only maintained the house. It was all he had left when he died. They had little money and my aunt was nearly destitute.”

  “Why wouldn’t you sell the place and give her the money?”

  Henri frowned, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Does it matter? It’s a place to hide.”

  “I suppose.” Rowan began to gather her things. One bag held all that she would need for now. “What are we waiting for then? Let’s move.”

  “We’d never get there before dark,” Justine argued. “It’s best to start out in the morning.”

  After lifting the hatch, Rowan threw down the ladder. “We don’t have that kind of time. I imagine Lucien is scouring the swamp as we speak.”

  “We haven’t seen him in two weeks.”

  “Yes, well… I’m afraid he’s had a terrible morning.”

  Henri joined her at the opening and grabbed her arm. His fingers bit into her skin.

  She pulled away.

  “What have you done?”

  “I’ve taken the first point; that’s all.”

  She descended the ladder catching Henri’s worried frown to Justine. She paused to listen at their exchange.

  “You’re right, ma petite. She’s different and I’m not sure I like the change.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Rowan imagined Justine biting her lip or chewing her finger.

  “We’ll try to sway her from this path. It can lead to nothing but sorrow for her. If we can’t, we may have to cut our losses.”

  “I’m sure it won’t come to that. She’s smart. Eventually she’ll get over this rage and then we’ll make her see reason.”

  Henri helped Justine climb through the door. “I hope you’re right. I would hate to turn on her, but if it means our safety, I’ll do it.”

  Justine made a small noise, much like a sob, as they followed Rowan down the tree. Rowan smiled, moving toward the ground. She’d managed to eliminate five people on her own. They had no idea what she was capable of. If they couldn’t stomach what had to be done, she was fine doing so alone. Henri didn’t realize he was no longer dealing with the girl of his past. The old Rowan was long gone, and she didn’t want her to return.

  CHAPTER 21

  Traipsing through the swamp didn’t improve Henri’s mood. Rowan smiled as he became irritable and hostile, muttering curses he walked ahead of them, swatting at flies and mosquitoes. When the sun began to set—its amber glow swelling the red horizon and mesmerizing Rowan with its beauty—a stream of profanity spilled from his usually pretty l
ips.

  “I told you we should wait,” he said. “No, you had to leave right away. I’m sure Lucien will love to hear that we’ve been eaten by some beast out here.”

  She smiled up at him. “We are nearly out of the swamp. The ground is dry. What are you complaining about?”

  “The house is still a distance from here.” He waved at the field before them. “Can you see it?”

  “No.”

  “My point exactly. We might be out of the stinking swamp but we’re a good hour away from rest. Do you know how large a tobacco field is? It’s huge, acres and acres of land. One cannot cover the entire thing in one day.”

  “Rest? It’s barely dusk and you’re tired? What did the two of you do last night that would cause you to feel so fatigued?”

  He looked away from her. “We were looking for refuge, nothing more. I swear, for someone who claims to hate the life of a whore, you certainly think like one.”

  Rowan smiled and glanced at Justine. The younger girl averted her gaze and blushed. Rowan felt a tightening in her chest she couldn’t identify. She wanted to tear the girl’s eyes out, but didn’t understand why. Surely, she wasn’t jealous.

  “Stupid,” she murmured.

  “What?” Justine asked.

  Rowan looked up. “Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”

  Justine gave a little shrug. “We’ll be okay. Henri is just worried about you. He knows we had to move, but he thinks you’re being a little impulsive.”

  “Don’t tell me what Henri thinks. I’ve him for most of my life, and I know how he thinks better than he does.” She couldn’t keep the venom from her voice and tried to soften it with a smile. “He’s spoiled, and that’s the biggest problem. I should have never allowed him to get involved.”

  Justine stared at her for a moment before looking ahead at Henri’s back. Whatever she thought, she kept it to herself. Rowan was relieved. She had no interest in the girl’s observations. None of which at this point had any intelligence behind them anyway. If not for Rowan, she’d still be on her knees at Rosaline’s.

  At some point, Rowan knew she’d have to leave them behind. For now, no matter how much she disliked Henri, he was all she had left of her life before everything went so wrong. She felt a need to hold on to that link to better days for a while longer.

  They walked in silence. Now and then Henri would mutter to himself, but required no response. It wasn’t long before the air changed becoming warm and dry. The clear sky above grew cloudy with black fog.

  Alarm bells rang in Rowan’s head. “Is that smoke?”

  “Damn him,” Henri cursed. “Damn the whole lot of them to Hell.”

  Far across the field, there was an orange glow and above it, plumes of black smoke danced in the air.

  “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

  “What the hell do you want me to tell you?” Henri fell to his knees; shoulders slumped as he gazed at the burning house.

  “I told you he would know,” Rowan began but stopped. Gloating wouldn’t help matters. He would become angry and sulky, which wouldn’t provide a solution to the problem. “We’ll just have to stay here until morning, and then we’ll move back to the swamp.”

  Henri turned to gape at her. “Go back? Are you insane?”

  “Why? It’s the only place he hasn’t looked for us.”

  “He knows we were there somewhere and now he’s trying to keep us there.” Henri shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “We can’t go back. It’s just a matter of time before we’re discovered, but we can’t sleep here, Rowan. We don’t know what’s out here.”

  “We’re in an old field. There’s nothing to fear but a few bugs and the hard ground.”

  “I don’t care, we aren’t staying outside. I’ve gone along with your plan and look where it has gotten us.” Henri looked around, as though he might see an answer in the acres of weeds and dead tobacco plants.

  “This wasn’t my plan. I would rather have stayed in the swamp where I had the advantage of knowing the terrain like the back of my hand. You wanted to leave, rich boy. We left. Now we’ll have to suck it up and deal with a bit of discomfort.”

  “This is not the time to fight.” Justine intervened, placing a hand on Rowan’s arm. “We need to stick together.”

  Rowan touched her belly and considered her options. She could leave them and return to Mama Gator’s, but Henri did have a point. Lucien would have his men scour the swamps until they found her. There would come a day when she’d leave the hidden shack at the wrong time and they’d be waiting. She wouldn’t be able to hide there forever, but she wasn’t about to wait for Henri to come up with something. He was good at panicking and little else. Even now, as he watched the flames eat his inheritance, she didn’t believe he was looking for a solution. No, Henri was probably feeling sorry for himself.

  What was she to do?

  Go to your people.

  The voice in her head again. Rowan was growing used to its whisper. So far, it’d proven useful. Her people. It made perfect sense. Lucien would never go there; he probably didn’t even know it existed. Very few white people did.

  “We have to go back into the swamp,” she said. “I know where we can go.”

  Henri turned and frowned. “I said I’m not going into the swamp again. We’ll go into town.”

  “Why would we go to town?”

  “It’s the best option. We’re not prepared to rough it like this.”

  “Shall we visit the saloon when we get there? Would you care for a drink and then a rope around your neck?”

  “Stop being a brat,” Henri scowled. “We’ll go to the old section. Your so-called people live there. I’m sure someone will help us.”

  Rowan laughed. It didn’t bother her when the voice suggested she go to her people, but when Henri spoke the words, it sounded callous, judgmental. If she was honest, Rowan didn’t know which people were hers, and Henri certainly didn’t either.

  She was a Dumas, but her golden skin betrayed her slave ancestry. She wasn’t white enough to enjoy the privileges of the Dumas family, nor dark enough to be accepted among her mother’s people. Rowan didn’t have people.

  “I would think your people would love to put one over on a Dumas,” Henri continued.

  “I don’t belong with them.”

  “They’ll let you in; your mother is one of theirs. I’m sure none of them have fond regard for Lucien.”

  “He’s right. They’ll hide you,” Justine added.

  Rowan raised an eyebrow. “And the two of you? You think they would hide you, Henri? You probably own a few of their family members. You believe they would hide me if I’m traveling with you?”

  Henri flushed. “I have a loyal servant, not a slave. He lives in his own home with his family and he is free to leave my employ and my property if he wishes to go. He will help me.”

  “He can’t go anywhere, Henri. The minute he steps off your property, someone will claim him. None of them is truly free and you can bet he doesn’t love you for your kindness. The illusion of freedom is almost worse.”

  “We grew up together, almost like brothers. I know he won’t turn his back on us.”

  “You know very little then.” Rowan closed her eyes, considering her options once more. It would be simpler humor him than to argue the point. Then he’d see the reality. If they made it out of town before Lucien found them, they’d travel back here and follow her plan. “Fine, we will do as you wish. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “There is no need. I know my plan is the safest.”

  Justine cleared her throat. “How will we stay hidden? I mean, it’s not like we can go in the back way. We must use the road at some point.”

  Henri appeared to ponder this for a moment, and smiled. “There’s a way, don’t worry. We will stay away from the road and go in behind the plantations.”

  Rowan didn’t reply. She followed Henri away from his burning home.

  ***

&nbs
p; They bordered the plantations for a long time, Rowan’s gaze on Henri’s back until something caught her eye. The hair on her neck rose.

  “Henri, I’m afraid he may have outsmarted us again,” she said.

  “Impossible,” Henri cried, but the flames climbing over the trees and into the sky said differently.

  They three stood in the shadows, watching as the fire grew and spread across the streets beyond them. People stood huddled together, watching the flames eat up Laurel Street, and then make their way to First and Second Streets. There had been no rain in some time, and the dry old shacks went up like paper.

  “This cannot be Lucien’s work. Even he is not so reckless.” Henri rubbed his eyes again.

  They walked closer to the road. Just outside the settlement, they heard cries echoing into the night. People were trapped, the flames devouring them along with their homes. The acrid smell of the burning timber and garbage drifted up Rowan’s nostrils. She coughed as a gust of wind brought smoke toward them, filling her lungs.

  “We have to go,” she sputtered and covered her face. “It’s coming toward us.”

  Justine backed away with Rowan. “Why is no one trying to help them?”

  “I’m sure help is on the way,” Henri said.

  He watched, unmoving, as the flames ate up the small wood frame shacks that lined the street. Dry brush along the road and even dryer conditions within the homes fanned the fire, to monstrous proportions.

  “Henri,” Rowan cried. “We must go, now!” The heat was overpowering, and made her stomach lurch.

  Henri turned and walked away from the town, back toward the plantations they had just managed to sneak through. They had nowhere to go and Rowan read the defeat in his slumped shoulders and furrowed brow. He was giving up.

  Rowan had to run to catch up to him. “I still have a plan. Don’t you want to know what it is?”

  He waved her away. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t you see, cherie? It’s hopeless. We’re fools to think we can outsmart Lucien. He’s too powerful. Even Fate is against us.”