A Cajun Dream (The Cajun Series Book 5)

by Claire, Cherie

  Ironically, the glint didn’t appear. The Creole glared at him, his eyes cold as black steel, as if daring him to take the money.

  “If you’re insinuating what I think you are, then you best be on your way,” René replied coldly. “I believe New Orleans has many gambling venues that will happily take your money, but I, sir, run a reputable track.”

  The Creole removed the money from the billfold and held it up in the light so René could see exactly how much money he was throwing away. What appeared to be hundreds of dollars waved before his eyes. René glanced at the money, more out of curiosity then want, than tipped his hat as politely as he could muster and turned to leave.

  “Wait,” the Creole called out.

  When René looked back into the office, the Creole had deposited the bulk back into his pocket. He almost looked pleased that René had turned him down.

  “I didn’t mean to insult you, my boy, but I wanted to see where we stood.”

  “Next time, ask the people of this town what kind of business I run,” René said. “Anyone for miles around, including New Orleans, would have told you I don’t fix races.”

  The Creole bowed politely. “Again, I am sorry.”

  René stood at a loss for words, something he wasn’t accustomed to. Most men would have exchanged angry words or attempted to bribe him further. This Creole seemed more agreeable.

  “I understand you have married,” the man offered in an amiable tone.

  “Yes,” René answered guardedly.

  “And she is an American, the daughter of the local judge?”

  “Yes.”

  “I knew James Richardson when he lived in New Orleans. His daughter, Amanda, was only a child then. Is this the woman you married?”

  René immediately came to life at the mention of his beloved’s name. “Yes, it is. You must come up to the house. Amanda would be anxious to meet you.”

  The light mood that the Creole exhibited passed and a shadow replaced it. “Non, merci. It is late and I have kept you away long enough.”

  René placed his hands at his hips, genuinely puzzled at the whole meeting. “Do you still wish to use the track? I board horses as well.”

  To further his amazement, the Creole placed a friendly hand on René’s shoulder. “No, I have learned what I came here to learn.”

  The Creole moved into the darkness of the night where a carriage and its driver waited. “There is one thing you can do,” he offered as he entered the carriage’s interior.

  René closed the door behind him and lit the carriage’s lamp. The meager light cast an eerie shadow over the Creole’s face.

  “Watch your back,” the older man cautioned. “I have witnessed a man named Henry Tanner slandering your name. If he acts on his words, you are in grave danger. I do not believe this man to be an honorable one. I doubt he will challenge you to a duel. Vous comprendez?”

  René nodded that he understood. Henry Tanner was rumored to stab a best friend in the back if it meant he would win at cards.

  “Give my best to Amanda,” the Creole said, as the carriage bolted.

  “What is your name?” René called out, but it was too late. The mysterious Creole had disappeared.

  A Cajun Dream

  Chapter Eleven

  Ever since she had arrived at the Comeaux house that morning, Katherine had exhibited a most disagreeable nature. She snapped at the boys when they played a harmless joke on her by placing a small green lizard on the seat of her buggy. She politely accepted coffee from Colette then barked orders to Amanda for more sugar and a clean spoon. Amanda tried to help her into the buggy when it appeared she was experiencing a spell of lightheadedness, but Katherine rudely pulled her elbow away.

  Now that they were on their way to town, Amanda couldn’t help but wonder why Katherine Blanchard, who never shared “company” with Amanda before, suddenly became interested in her affairs. Disagreeably interested, she added to her thoughts.

  “I’m sorry,” Katherine finally said after moments of silence. “I don’t know what’s come over me this morning.”

  “Perhaps you are not feeling well.” Amanda searched her face for sincerity. To her surprise, tears were forming in Katherine’s eyes.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I don’t feel very well.”

  As a lone tear escaped down Katherine’s cheek, Amanda felt certain Katherine would tell of her misery. A look of sadness and a want of friendship overtook Katherine’s previous angry state, and Amanda reached down and took her hand. Katherine squeezed it tight, as if thankful for the companionship.

  “I have done something terrible,” she whispered.

  Before Amanda could ask, she heard a horse quickly approaching from the woods next to the road. The sudden movement caused the buggy’s horses to spook and rear. Katherine grasped the reins tightly to keep control over them.

  Both women looked up anxiously at the inconsiderate rider, who grabbed the horses’ reins from Katherine’s grip and stopped the buggy.

  “What on earth?” Amanda demanded, standing up to get a better look at the intruder. To her horror, Henry Tanner filled the saddle.

  “Nice to see you again, Miss Richardson,” he said sarcastically. “Or shall I call you Mrs. Comeaux?”

  Fear consumed Amanda’s being and she silently prayed someone — anyone — would be passing by. After searching the horizon and finding no one in sight, Amanda sat back down, trying to quickly formulate a plan of action.

  “Henry,” she heard Katherine say at her side. “You scared us to death.”

  “Did I?” Tanner said with mock concern. Moving toward Amanda, he leaned down in his saddle making it impossible for her to escape his gaze. “I certainly wouldn’t want you scared of me.”

  Amanda placed a gloved hand on her neck while she stared down at the buggy floor trying to avoid Tanner’s penetrating eyes. She could feel the wild beating of her heart pulsating through the veins in her neck. She had to think of something; she had to get away.

  “There’s no way of escaping me my dear,” Tanner said as if reading her thoughts. “You can marry whomever you wish, but I will always know where to find you.”

  Katherine stared at him, then pressed a handkerchief to her lips. “I think I will be sick,” she said, this time crying freely.

  “For goodness sakes, Katherine, this is not the time,” Tanner barked.

  “She’s ill.” Amanda wondered how he could be so rude to a woman he barely knew.

  “She’s fine,” Tanner answered. “I want to talk to you and I shall not keep you long.”

  Amanda’s mind whirled. What could Henry Tanner possibly want of her now? He had done his damage, and because of her silence on the matter he should be grateful and halfway to Texas.

  “I heard you concocted a nice little story about eloping with the Cajun man,” he began. “So, it seems your father wouldn’t be too keen on you inviting his overseer out for a secret moonlit ride, eh?”

  “It wasn’t like that, you know...”

  “It was exactly like that, my dear.” Tanner leaned in closer, his black eyes staring coldly into hers. “You asked for something and you reneged on it. Meanwhile, I’m the one on the losing end.”

  Amanda stared up at him horrified. “I only asked for a ride to the ball.”

  “You asked for exactly what you received.”

  Katherine stopped crying, and the silence that followed began to swallow Amanda whole. She felt her nerve slowly fading. If only a farmer or a traveler would happen by.

  “I want three thousand dollars by tonight,” Tanner said. “I want it delivered to this spot, to the abandoned cottage over there.”

  Through the trees Amanda could barely make out the old Wiley homestead. When the old man died, his neighbor, Reed Harris, purchased the land from his descendants, used the accompanying fields and let the meager house fall into disrepair.

  “I don’t have three thousand dollars.”

  “Sure you do,” Tanner said. “Yo
u inherited a trust fund.”

  “It’s only a few hundred. And I can’t remove that kind of money from the bank.”

  “Find a way.”

  “But...”

  “Find a way,” Tanner shouted, “and have it here tonight or pappy gets an earful.”

  Amanda swallowed hard, resolving to keep her wits about her. “You wouldn’t dare tell my father, not after what you have done.”

  Tanner smirked. “I can fill your father’s ears with all kinds of information about that opportunist husband of yours and his dealings at the racetrack. Your father will be quite happy to throw that no-good son-of-a-bitch into jail and shut down his whole operation.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Amanda said.

  “Tonight, my dear,” Tanner said with finality, pointing to the house. “I expect you to deliver.”

  Tanner threw the buggy’s reins toward the women and Amanda quickly grabbed them from the buggy’s floor.

  “One more thing,” Tanner said, riding his horse up close. “Tell your husband about this, and I’ll kill him.”

  Amanda didn’t breathe comfortably until she saw the shiny red bricks of St. Mary’s Episcopal Church on First Street. Katherine remained silent when Amanda took control of the reins and sent the horses bolting toward town. When they arrived safely, the two women looked at each other for the first time since the fateful meeting with Tanner.

  She had to explain to Katherine. The woman must be horrified that Amanda knew Tanner well enough to give him money or, even worse, that she had been out in an unchaperoned carriage ride with him.

  To Amanda’s surprise, it was Katherine who appeared eager to talk. “Amanda, I can explain.”

  Suddenly, it all made sense. Katherine asked for her company so she would get Amanda alone in a secluded spot to meet Tanner. That’s why they treated each other with such familiarity. They were friends. The way Katherine defended him the night before Katherine was probably in love with him.

  Closing her eyes, Amanda tried to dispel the anxiety. Alcée insisted T-Emile accompany them that morning but both she and Katherine talked him out of it. Nothing would happen, Amanda argued, in broad daylight on a quick trip to town.

  Katherine reached over and touched Amanda’s arm lightly, but Amanda drew away. “I’m sorry,” Katherine said.

  Amanda shook her head. She didn’t know which hurt worse, her continuing stupidity on the potential abuses of men or that Katherine had fallen for the deceitful bastard and betrayed her. Deep down she wanted to warn Katharine, to explain how Tanner had compromised her, but her anger won out. “He doesn’t have a sister,” Amanda said bitterly, quickly descending the buggy and heading toward the sanctuary of the church.

  When Amanda entered Franklin’s first religious establishment she was overwhelmed by the intense humid air pouring in from the windows. It was not yet noon and her petticoats and camisole were already pasted to her skin. Her head spun from the heat and she sought comfort in the first available pew.

  Before she could reach her destination and mop the perspiration beading across her forehead, she stood face-to-face with Sally.

  “Sally,” Amanda said, grabbing her old friend like a drowning swimmer lunging for a lifesaver. “Thank heavens! I must talk to you.”

  “Oh?” Sally answered unemotionally. “Life not turning out the way you expected it?”

  Amanda stepped back and took in Sally’s stern countenance. Surely, she couldn’t be mad at her, not after all that had happened. If anyone had cause to be angry, it was Amanda.

  “Sally, what have I done?” Amanda asked.

  When Sally finally spoke, Amanda saw that her best friend was close to tears. Amanda instantly regretted not speaking to her sooner, explaining what happened that night with Tanner.

  “How could you?” Sally asked, the hurt emerging in her voice. “If you wanted to elope with the Cajun racetrack owner, then so be it. But, asking me to arrange a rendezvous with Henry Tanner and making a complete fool out of me. I thought you were my friend.”

  “I am your friend,” Amanda insisted. “It wasn’t like that at all.”

  “I saw you with the Cajun in the market that day. I know exactly what it was like.”

  Amanda started to explain, but Sally instantly pressed a handkerchief to her nose and headed for the privacy of an empty pew. Amanda thought to go to her, to try and explain, until she recognized her friends congregated by the altar. Several of the American women Amanda socialized with for years turned and stared. Even the minister, whom Amanda had met only at marriages and christenings, glanced at Amanda with curiosity. He must have heard of her scandalous elopement, she thought; the whole town must now know.

  Amanda felt isolated, unwanted and threatened. Her heart close to buckling under the pain, she left the gaiety of the crowd and quickly exited the church, running toward home. As soon as she reached the sidewalk, a welcomed familiar voice sounded from behind.

  “Miss Amanda,” T-Emile said. “May I accompany you somewhere?”

  Amanda nearly burst into tears upon sight of the young man. Instead, she bit her lip to keep her emotions inside and accepted his outstretched arm. “Please take me to my father’s house,” she whispered.

  “Are you not well?” he shyly asked.

  Amanda silently stared at the ground but couldn’t find the words. She didn’t feel like talking, especially translating the words into French, and she knew T-Emile wouldn’t press her. Silently, the pair walked down Main Street to her father’s house. When they reached her home, Amanda released T-Emile’s arm.

  “I’d ask you in, but I really must talk to my father,” she said.

  T-Emile smiled as if a great weight left his shoulders. “That’s fine,” he answered a bit eagerly.

  “You don’t have to wait. René is expected later and he will see me home.”

  T-Emile appeared doubly relieved. “I have business in town. I will be back in an hour in case you need me.”

  Amanda almost smiled at his concern. “Thank you,” she whispered and entered the house.

  James couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment the connection occurred, but he estimated it happened around Amanda’s first birthday. Genevieve, as usual, had thrown quite a party, inviting all of her treasured theater friends to perform for her daughter. After the cake and presents, everyone began to sing songs around the parlor harpsichord, each one trying to outperform the other, their voices increasingly rising in volume.

  What was it? James wondered as he stared out his office window, trying to recall that ominous feeling. It was almost like something invisible had tugged on his sleeve, urging him to get up and leave the room. Or a thought entered his mind and refused to leave. But he knew, at that very moment, that Amanda was not where she should have been and was in danger. He knew it before the kitchen servant screamed.

  Amanda, an early walker, had followed the servant out the front door, heading for the street and an oncoming buggy. James hadn’t thought logically what to do; he instinctively headed straight for his daughter, pulling her into his arms and tumbling on to the distant sidewalk, perhaps saving her life.

  That parental instinct had not diminished through the years. He felt it again when Amanda silently opened the door and entered the hallway. That familiar anxiety, that inner knowledge that something was amiss, that his only daughter could be in danger, lingered between them. When she finally called his name, he knew he was right.

  “What is it?” he answered hurriedly, meeting her in the hallway and examining her from head to toe.

  “Father, I must talk to you,” she said nervously.

  James grabbed Amanda’s shoulders and took a closer look. She wasn’t physically hurt from what he could assess. “I’ll kill him if he hurt you in any way, shape or form.”

  Amanda stared up at him puzzled.

  “What did that son-of-a-bitch do to you?”

  Amanda pushed his arms away and entered the office. She appeared willing to talk, but hesitant.


  “If that Cajun did one thing....”

  “It’s not about René.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It’s Henry,” Amanda said softly.

  “Henry?” What the blazes did his overseer have to do with anything?

  “Father, you have to get rid of him,” she insisted.

  Something deep in his gut pulled at him. It wasn’t the Comeaux man after all. There was more to this story, just as Virginia warned. “Why?”

  Amanda turned slightly, but refused to meet her father’s eyes. She kept moving a paperweight around his desk, as if trying to find the proper words. “I fear he will do something terrible to this family. He may be robbing us blind at this very moment.”

  James wanted to shake his daughter and make her get right to the point, but he knew that if she was harboring a secret about this man, it was best to take it slowly. “Why would Henry be doing that, Amanda?”

  Finally his daughter met his gaze. “He’s in debt, Father. Haven’t you heard?”

  Of course he’d heard. Henry was always in debt. Every other month his overseer asked for an advance. But Henry’s gambling problems couldn’t have anything to do with Amanda.

  “What he does with his finances is his business, Amanda, not ours. I must say I don’t necessarily trust the man, but I keep a watchful eye on everything he does. He has no access to any of our funds, so there’s no need to worry about him stealing.”

  “But, Father...”

  “I have already planned on letting him go at the end of the summer, when I can find a new foreman. Henry and I have not seen eye to eye on matters with the slaves.”

  His answers refused to relieve the anxious expression on his daughter’s face. “There’s more,” she said.

  “What else has Henry done?”

  Amanda walked toward the back of the room, staring out the window on to the back garden’s crape myrtles. “He has a reputation in town for compromising women.”

  The grip that caused his breath to quicken intensified. “Who?” he asked, both wanting to know and wishing he could retract the question.

  “Women in town. Women from prominent families.” She added softly, “People you know.”