A Perfect Dilemma

by Zoe Dawson

  I was in love with Braxton Outlaw.

  Probably had always been in love with him. All of our encounters had led me here, to this realization. I loved him beyond belief.

  “That was beautiful,” I breathed.

  He tilted his head and gave me a wry look. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough to hear ‘I’m a Little Teapot.’”

  “Damn,” he said, then frowned. “Wait a second. I didn’t sing ‘I’m a Little Teapot.’”

  “Could you? Would you? Or do you even know your handle from your spout?” I asked, all innocent-like.

  He tugged the covers up over a now-sleeping Duel, then came toward me, poised for anything, his muscles contracting, daring me to hold my ground, dark eyes snapping with Outlaw mischief. I retreated from the door. He was incredibly quick when he came after me, and I muffled my screams with my hand while I raced toward his bedroom. He caught me around the middle, pressing his face into my neck, close to my ear.

  “I know the difference. Let me show you, sugar,” he said in a bad boy growl, making me melt.

  I laughed and pressed my head back against his shoulder. His warm mouth slipped over mine in the darkened hallway. I sighed into the kiss. He spun me and pulled me flush against him, and my hand came to rest against the enticing, smooth, solid muscle of his bare, tanned chest.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist and hauled me into the bedroom. I sighed again as we fell to the bed, the seductiveness of Brax so overwhelming he didn’t even have to try hard.

  I reached down and he gasped when I touched him. “Handle or spout?” I asked, in my best teacher voice, moving my hand over him until he was breathing hard, loving the fire in his eyes, loving him so much I thought I might explode with it.

  He gave me a smoldering look and an Outlaw grin. “Aw, sugar, who cares,” he said with a smoky rumble. “Clearly, you know what to do with it.”

  Later on, while Duel slept, we relaxed in the hot tub, looking at the dark night sky. “I have another song for you, sugar.”

  He reached for the fiddle and bow he’d set on the lip of the tub.

  “I wrote this for you when I was in high school.”

  As soon as he pulled the first note, I sat up straighter. “It was you,” I said. “The gorgeous, sad music drifting through the bayou at night. It was you all along.”

  “I play the song every night,” he said.

  I learned from the ones I hated most

  that things could not be reversed.

  Nothing could be undone.

  Nothing could be made right.

  Not about me and not about her.

  No, no, things could not be reversed

  Minds were made up

  Perceptions reality

  Burn my heart, burn my soul

  Burn my heart, tear me apart.

  We hold too tight, we let go too fast.

  Things cannot be reversed.

  She was light

  Glided in gold.

  Touching me

  With radiance.

  A glow in the deepest, darkest part of me.

  Burn my heart, burn my soul

  Burn my heart, tear me apart.

  We hold too tight, we let go too fast.

  Things cannot be reversed.

  I turned away from my salvation.

  But pieces of me reached for pieces of her.

  Broken pieces mendable with dreams and wishes.

  Hopes and desires.

  Pieces of me that only fit pieces of her.

  Burn my heart, burn my soul

  Burn my heart, tear me apart.

  We hold too tight, we let go too fast.

  Things cannot be reversed.

  Lost and scattered among the ashes

  Of my long, painful night of desire.

  Hope was as bright as she, but sharp as a knife

  Buried to the hilt

  A pain so transforming

  Burn my heart, burn my soul

  Burn my heart, tear me apart.

  We hold too tight, we let go too fast.

  Things cannot be reversed.

  As he sang the last words, he held my gaze, held me as easily as he’d held his nephew with “Over the Rainbow”. I moved close to him while he set his instrument down. Things could be reversed. They could change, but the words were trapped in me. It wasn’t the time to tell him and I was still scared. He held me and the stars winked overhead.

  #

  River Pearl

  Boone came by in the morning to pick up Duel and gave me a one-arm hug. It was clear he was pleased I was in his brother’s life.

  Brax took me to Outlaws and we ate the delicious food he’d created. The customer traffic had increased quite a bit, but I didn’t realize why until Jackie showed us the clipping of my Uncle Win’s column, that Brax’s ma had dropped off for Brax to read.

  Food So Mouthwatering It Should Be Outlawed

  Suttontowne is in Hope Parish, nestled between Lafayette and the bayou, smack dab in the middle of Cajun country. It is the home of a special eatery I visited while I was home. Yes, this Southern food critic was born and raised in Suttontowne, Louisiana. The eatery in question is a bar and restaurant run by Braxton Outlaw, a self-made chef. This place has all the charm of the rustic South and is one of its best-kept secrets, and I must say it's quite an adventure. For those of you searching for a unique culinary experience, look no further than Outlaws.

  This gem sits on stilts against a breakwater, with an authentic neon sign advertising “hot food and cold beer.” Its crushed-shell parking lot adds to the charm of red and blue awnings, a corrugated metal roof, and a sturdy wraparound, makeshift gallery that affords diners the rough, raw beauty of the bayou.

  The decor allows the unadorned zest of the food to truly shine, though it isn’t the only thing bringing folks to Outlaws. The restaurant buzzes with excitement when Braxton and his two brothers entertain. Exquisite food and fine singing make for very satisfied patrons.

  I started with Outlaw’s eggrolls, a combination of Asian and Cajun flavors. Braxton mixed the delicate flavors of the outer shell with the fiery goodness of the filling, a truly remarkable combination of Creole spices, shrimp, and crab, perfectly cooked and served with dirty rice and an out-of-this-world jezebel sauce. Seriously, the best I’ve tasted in my life. He should bottle and sell the sauce internationally. In fact, once I sampled the remoulade on the crab cakes served with roasted veggies, and garlic-tartar sauce on the deep-fried white fish on sourdough with baked white barbeque chips, I decided he should bottle and sell all his sauces.

  Though I would love to be selfish and keep Outlaws all to myself, the genius of Braxton Outlaw is too extraordinary to stay hidden for long. There’s no doubt Suttontowne soon will be inundated with out-of-towners vying for seating in this exceptional bayou gem.

  Braxton was powerfully moved by the review. I could see he was gratified by my uncle’s appreciation of his hard work and creativity. Later on I sang with him and his brothers again. It felt very natural and…just plain wonderful.

  The next day, I sat on his deck and struggled with my speech while he played his fiddle, trying to decide what to do with this earth-shattering, reality-shifting knowledge. Founder’s Day, the day of my speech, was very close, and I had to decide how to handle what I knew. But I still didn’t have concrete proof. Just a mention of a borrowed mare, the fact that Duel had been seen in is store during the robbery and murders, and the entries in his ledger. I wanted people to believe what I was saying and not dismiss it as conjecture.

  Then I remembered the Colonel’s absent journal. The last one, missing from the set. Could there be something in there? But where could it be?

  I spent the evening in turmoil. The next morning, Brax shook me awake. He was already showered and fully dressed. “I’m going into Outlaws.”

  “Do you have to?”

  “Yes, I’ve neglected it too long. Gotta stop at the market real quick first, t
oo.”

  “I’ll come with you. What time is it?”

  “You sure, sugar? You don’t have to.”

  “I want to. Give me fifteen minutes?”

  “All right.”

  As we were coming out of the market, I saw Verity unloading groceries into her car. “I’m going to say hi to Verity.”

  “I’ll be over after I put this stuff in the truck.”

  I nodded. She smiled as I walked over and leaned down to tickle Duel’s chin. He giggled and wrapped his little hand around my finger.

  “He’s so precious, Verity.”

  “He is a joy, for sure. He’s got us as wrapped up as he has your finger.”

  “Well, lookie what we got here, boys. Two Outlaw whores.”

  I straightened to see Jack Douglas saunter up to Verity and push her against the car. “Leave her alone, Jack!”

  He turned his attention to me and sneered. “I hear you’re banging Braxton. Wow, you’ve sunk really low, River Pearl, spreading your legs for that piece of white trash. What a joke.”

  “I’m shocked, Jack, to learn that your pea brain has the capacity to comprehend any joke but yourself.”

  His face went mean and he advanced purposefully across the lot. He grabbed me by the throat and I slapped him. He backhanded me, hitting my cheekbone hard, and I slammed into the pavement, seeing stars.

  The next thing I knew, Verity was screaming. When the dizziness cleared I saw Braxton on top of Jack, hammering on him. Before anyone could do anything, the four guys he ran with as a pack grabbed Braxton, and he disappeared in the chaos of flailing fists and feet.

  I pushed to my feet and saw Verity using her cell phone. I lunged into the crowd to find Brax restrained by four guys and Jack holding a knife up under his chin. My stomach flipped over with a sick sensation.

  “Last time somebody saved you, pretty boy. But there’s no one to save you now. Is there? Let’s see how deep pretty goes,” he crooned.

  “You ever touch River again, I will fucking kill you, Douglas.”

  I grabbed the laundry detergent bottle still in Verity’s cart and without hesitation clocked Jack right in the head with it. He flew off Braxton and landed on the pavement as a siren wailed behind us. I stood there breathing hard, staring at Braxton.

  “Yes, he does, you bastard,” I growled in a voice I scarcely recognized. “He does have someone to save him.” It was then I determined to do all I could to find that missing journal.

  As soon as they heard the sirens, the four guys let Brax go and scattered, leaving Jack out cold on the pavement. I knelt down to help Brax up, and he pulled me into his arms.

  “I’m sorry, River. I’m so damn sorry.”

  I tucked my face into the hollow of his throat just as Sheriff Dalton started barking out questions. And Boone came into the parking lot slamming on the brakes of his landscape truck, threw open the door, and dashed to Verity, who was trying to settle a crying Duel.

  He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. He kept asking if she was all right and she kept nodding her head. She met my eyes, and I saw hers harden. I nodded, understanding her silent message. She would fight for Boone and continue to fight for him. I was now part of it, too.

  #

  Braxton

  I sat in front of the sheriff while he asked questions. River and Verity were behind me to the right. My ma had come to take the baby. She’d been with River’s uncle and, amidst the chaos of the attack on our women…shit…I was thinking of River as my woman…I had to wonder what was going on with my ma, she looked pretty cozy with River’s uncle.

  Boone was still here, but Booker and Aubree stayed away since Sheriff Dalton was her stepdaddy. Jack was behind bars, which surprised me. But there were several people at the market who’d officially stated that Jack and his friends had been the aggressors and I was just protecting Verity and River.

  I clenched my fists against my thighs, trying to remember the details through the haze of rage that consumed me when I saw Jack slug River. It had brought back so many painful memories, renewed the fear and helplessness I’d felt the first time, the terror I’d experienced as a little boy who didn’t have the strength to protect his ma. This was my worst nightmare, and the reason I had always stayed away from River Pearl.

  I’d made her a target, exactly what I’d been trying to avoid for most of my life.

  “Braxton.”

  I met the sheriff’s eyes.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I’m an Outlaw, Sheriff. I think you know what happened.”

  He sighed. “I understand, son. I do, but I need an official statement from you.”

  “Where is she?!”

  My head came up and turned toward the sound of River’s daddy’s voice.

  River stood and said, “Daddy.”

  He went to her and hugged her tight. His face went vicious when he saw the bruise on her face. I felt sick.

  He turned to look at me and, without a word, lunged across the room. The chair got kicked over as he grabbed the front of my shirt and slammed me against the wall. His contorted face right in mine, he said, “This is your fault. You caused my daughter to be hurt. I knew this would happen.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, my eyes going to River’s.

  “Daddy, let him go. This isn’t Braxton’s fault! It’s not his fault,” she cried, pulling at his arm. The sheriff was on the other side of him.

  “Release him, James, right now, before I haul you up on assault charges. Right damn now! Braxton is the victim here.”

  He let go of me and backed up. “This is what happens to decent women when they get involved with your family.” He looked over at Verity, who was wrapped in Boone’s arms.

  My chest heaved and I clenched my jaw so tight my teeth hurt.

  “River, you’re coming with me.”

  Her chin went up and she glared at her daddy. “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are,” I said gently.

  Both River and her daddy looked at me, and when she met my eyes, I felt as if someone was ripping my heart out of my chest.

  “Brax—”

  “This isn’t up for debate,” I said. “Your daddy is right. This is my fault. I should have seen…”

  “I’m not going to let some jerk dictate to me who I can and can’t be with,” she said firmly. “I need to talk to you about something important. I should have before now, but I—”

  I cupped her face. “Listen to me. We had an amazing time, but it’s over. You have the information you need for your speech. We never had a chance. I knew it going into this. You knew it, too.”

  “No, Brax. I discovered something important—”

  “Yes, you did. You have a life somewhere else. I warned you getting involved with me was going to be a disaster.”

  “Braxton, no…please.”

  I ran my thumb over her bruise. I leaned forward and whispered. “Go with your daddy. Forget about me. Forget about this. About us.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered back. “I love you, Brax.”

  They were the most amazing words and the worst words I could hear right now. I closed my eyes and dragged her against me, holding her so tightly. “Fuck.” I whispered, hurting in a place in my heart no one outside of my family had touched before. And this went even deeper, down to my core. This woman was mine and I warred with the knowledge. “I can’t. I can’t deal with making you a target. Go back to New York.”

  “No,” she sobbed, but I guided her into her daddy’s arms. She resisted, but I forced my hands to my side and turned away. The sound of her weeping cut me until I couldn’t breathe.

  I met Boone’s eyes, and even as the pain welled in me, I shut it down. Turning to the sheriff, pretending my world hadn’t just come to an end, I said, “Let’s get this over with. I’m not interested in pressing charges. River might be, but I’m not.”

  “Brax,” Boone said, and I moved my head in a single, firm shake.

  “Are y
ou sure?” the sheriff said.

  “It wouldn’t do any good, Sheriff. I’m sure,” I repeated. I quickly told him what happened. As I was leaving, Boone grabbed my arm. “Braxton.”

  “It’s over. It was over before it began.” Finality in my voice, despair in my chest like a coil of barbed wire.

  I shook off his hand and walked out of the sheriff’s office, desolation crowding in with the despair. How could I lose something I never had? She was a fleeting dream I’d known I couldn’t hold on to. I had been a fool to even hope, to even try.

  Now. Ah, fuck, now she knew what it was to be an Outlaw.

  The overcast sky opened up while I walked to my truck. I stood in the rain, on the verge of losing my shit. My knees buckled and I dropped to the pavement, the barbed wire around my chest tightening until it cut me open and I bled. I dropped my head back and cried out. A raw, desperate sound. I forced myself up and opened the door. Once inside the cab, I started the truck and turned it down the road to Outlaws. I had a bar to run.

  Chapter Nineteen

  River Pearl

  I lay on my bed where I had retreated as soon as my daddy brought me home. Two days of searching in vain. I looked everywhere, asked my daddy about the journals, but no luck. I even tore the attic apart until my momma said I was going mad, so cross she didn’t know what to do with me. My speech was only days away, but I had lost interest. The loss of Braxton was almost more than I could bear.

  And I couldn’t, wouldn’t, make the accusation about Duel’s innocence and the Colonel’s guilt without proof.

  I closed my eyes, my stomach cramping and my throat tight all over again, but I had no tears left. I looked at the clock and saw it was getting late. Brax would be close to closing. I slipped out of bed. Opening my door, I walked to the stairs.

  My cousin was just coming up. When he saw me, he had nothing but I-told-you-so in his eyes. No compassion, no sympathy. Nothing but the familiar cold, blank emptiness. “You’re finally up. As far as I’m concerned, you spent way too much time on Outlaw as it is.”