by Sable Hunter
Revel cleared his throat. “When we’re asking for help, who exactly are we talking to?” He’d lived in Louisiana for his whole life except for the time he’d spent in the service and knew voodoo was prominent, as was witchcraft. But Nana was known as a conjurer and Revel didn’t know where that fell into the mix.
Nana threw her head back and laughed. “I guess knowing who you’re asking for help is important. Well, we’re not asking the devil, if that’s what’s worrying you.” Then, she put her hands to the side of her head, waggled her fingers and said, “Woo-ooo.”
Revel smirked. “Cute.” At least she’d broken the ice.
“I practice hoodoo. I acknowledge deity, but I don’t pray to no one they don’t worship down at the church.” She picked up a couple of stones and began to spread a bit of oil on them from the bottle of High John. “I access the power the Creator created, the power of angels or spirits, in the elements, stones, plants – in the very colors of the rainbow. What I do, anyone could do if they could just set aside their stubbornness and opened up the mind and heart.”
Shaking his head, Revel assured her. “Your reputation precedes you, Nana. I don’t think anyone else can do what you do.” For years he’d heard about Nana helping women find love, turning gamblers into winners, making court cases turn out the way someone needed, and mixing together potions that would keep abusive husbands or fathers at bay. In other words—Nana could make things happen, she was the go-to/fix-it source for all the believers in Iberia and St. Martin parish. And in most people’s lives there was a time when they wanted to believe.
Like now—for Revel.
“Ah, there are a few. Clotille had power, she just used it rarely. Did you find her books and supplies?”
Revel jerked his head up. This was news. “No, I haven’t. They could be stored in the attic, I guess.”
“Well, when Harper comes back, make sure she finds her grandmother’s journals.” She gave Revel a knowing glance. “She’s going to need them.”
Instead of wondering what she meant, Revel focused on Nana’s confidence. “I’ll find them.” He handed the candle with Harper’s name to her.
“Our families are connected, you know,” Nana murmured. “Did Clotille ever mention it?”
Revel shook his head. “Not that I know of. What do you mean?”
“Oh, one day you’ll know.” With a mysterious smile, she announced, “Now, we get down to business.” Humming a haunting tune, Nana went to work. She explained as she manipulated the items lying in front of her, lining them up. “Even though I told you that I don’t give obeisance to any powers, I do call on them for help—so hang on.” Closing her eyes, she held her hands out, palms up and began to chant, calling on the architect of the universe, the archangels, the watchtowers of the compass points—even Papa Legba, a Caribbean loa who serves as the guardian of the crossroads, an emissary between humanity and the spirit world. “We have a favor to ask of you, please bring Harper Summers home safe and sound. And soon.”
Revel didn’t want to do anything to break the spell or whatever this was, so he kept quiet and observed. Nana Fontenot took the candle and anointed it with the High John oil, a sweep from top to the middle and from the bottom to the middle. “We’re calling someone to you, so the drawing is inward.” Next, she pressed seven rose thorns into the name, lit the candle and put it into a small holder.
“What do I do?” The question popped out from Revel’s mouth before he could call it back.
“Hold your horses, handsome.” Nana winked at him. “I’m just getting started. Here.” She handed him a small glass jar. “We’re going to pack this full of goodies. First, write your need on that slip of paper.” She pushed a pen and a piece of parchment paper toward him. “Then put it in the jar with these rose petals.”
Revel did as she asked, writing. “I need Harper Summers to come home to Wildwood and to me.” Carefully, he placed the paper in the bottom of the jar, but frowned when he picked up the rose petals.
“Don’t turn your nose up,” she chided him. “Each plant, flower and herb has a power, a connection to a human need, emotion or drive.” Talking, Nana kept dipping her finger in the oil and spreading a light film on each leaf and stone in front of her. “For example, plain ole parsley is a money draw, althea blooms or leaves are good for protection, and garlic for healing.”
“Not for vampires?” He teased, trying to hide his nerves. It was silly for a six-foot three, two hundred-twenty pound ex-Marine to be wary of a frail old woman and her incantations.
Nana rolled her eyes. “Garlic doesn’t faze a vampire.” At Revel’s raised eyebrows, she cackled in laughter. “Come back some night and I’ll tell you more,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Now, add this rue and rosemary to the jar.”
He took the herbs from her hands. “Okay. What am I going to do with this jar?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute, now add these stones. A rose quartz, a piece of jade and a turquoise.”
Revel took the rocks and dropped them into the jar on top of the petals, herbs and parchment. “I apologize, but I don’t see how this is going to help.” He hated to sound skeptical, he was desperate, however, and willing to try anything.
“We’re concentrating our will, adding natural power, and tonight you’re going to set it free. Let the universe take your wish and carry it to her, draw her back into your arms.”
The way she said it made Revel’s chest ache. “I’m ready.”
“I know you have a picture, put it in.” Nana gestured at the jar.
Revel stared at her, then slowly pulled his wallet from his back jeans pocket, opened it and took out a small square. Holding it by the corner, he gazed at it. They’d stopped at one of those photo booths at the mall. He had a whole strip of them at home put back in his sock drawer. Smiling, he could still remember Harper’s laughter, the way she’d cuddled against him and how good she’d felt in his arms. Her hair was dark here, not that bleached blonde look she’d been wearing the last time he saw her.
“She’s beautiful.” Nana Fontenot leaned over the table, holding the jar up so he could slip it inside.
“Yes, she is.” His very own Ashley Greene, but more perfect in his eyes. And the best part was that she was sweet and smart, kind—and his. Yes, dammit, she was his. He’d never been more certain of anything in his life.
“I know, baby.” Nana Fontenot patted his hand as if she had heard his thoughts plain as day. “Now, screw on the lid and repeat after me.” She waited till he’d affixed the top tightly. “Bring Harper back to me. This is my wish, so mote it be.”
Revel thought it was a little silly, but what did he know? “Bring Harper back to me. This is my wish, so mote it be.”
“Good.” She stood. “I’ll let the candle finish burning and you take that jar and drive over the river, throw it out the window of your car as hard as you can and let the current carry it off.”
He rose, reached into his wallet and she held up her gnarled hand. “Pay me when she shows up. Whatever it’s worth to you.”
“Are you trying to bankrupt me?” Harper’s return meant the world to him, more than everything else he had rolled into one.
“No.” She patted his face. “Seeing you smile again will be payment enough.” When he started out, she added. “Although I do have to eat…”
Impulsively Revel hugged her. “You won’t ever go hungry as long as I’m around.”
As he was about to walk away, she stopped him. “I need to tell you this, I can sense it. When she told you to leave her alone in Galveston, when she told you that you weren’t enough for her.” Nana stopped and stared at the man’s face in front of her. He was hanging on her every word. “The woman was lying like a dog. We do that sometimes when we’re trying to do our best for the ones we love.”
Revel felt waves of relief and sorrow swamp him. “I knew it,” he whispered. Now it all made sense. “I’ve got to find her.”
“You will, baby, you will.” She s
tood at the door and watched him leave as he made his way back over the boardwalk to his truck. The sun was high in the sky now, and Patrick and Savannah were expecting him soon. But first, he had to drive over the river bridge…
* * *
“Here, put Jeremy in his bed.” Savannah pushed her little boy into Revel’s arms. “I’ll take the hushpuppies and fish out to Patrick.”
Revel didn’t quibble. Jeremy was his godson. Before he was born, when Patrick had been MIA and assumed dead, he’d offered to marry Savannah to give Patrick’s son a name and security. “You’re so sleepy you can’t hold your eyes open, aren’t you?” He kissed the toddler on the forehead and carried him to his room, laying him in the bed and turning on his mobile. “Uncle Revel thinks you’re one fine little dude.” He adjusted the baby’s night shirt and placed a loving hand on Jeremy’s chest, standing there for a few moments till the little boy’s heavy eyelids drifted close.
With a wistful smile, he turned and headed out of the house to join his friends in the backyard. Would he ever have a child of his own? It had been four years since Harper walked away from him and most men would say he was crazy, but Revel hadn’t been with a woman since. One day, if she never returned to him, perhaps he’d have to—after all, he was a man with needs. But he was going to give it his best shot, the idea of making love to anyone but Harper was repugnant to him.
Being careful not to slam the screen door, he made his way down toward the patio area. The place was idyllic, built right on the water. “Here, spray yourself.” Savannah handed him a bottle of insect repellant.
He took it gladly, the mosquitoes here would do their best to either drain his blood or carry him off. “Thanks.”
“Hope you’re hungry.” Patrick pointed to the rolling boil where he was frying catfish.
“Starving,” Revel admitted. He could see that the fries were already out of the grease and only the hushpuppies were left. “Did you get those drawings to the chief engineer?” he asked, feeling slightly guilty that his mind had been elsewhere.
“Sure did,” Patrick replied, not seeming upset at all. “I think your idea of using a pipeline to relocate sediment is sound. Couple that with some stream diversions and the hope of the lawsuit against BP and some of the oil companies ruling our way to pay for all of this, I’d say there’s reason to celebrate.” He threw a beer toward Revel, who caught it handily.
Savannah sat across from him, her face serene. Revel was truly happy for this pair who’d been through so much. He could still remember how devastated Savannah had been at Patrick’s funeral and how relieved they were to find out he was still alive. “How’s the work at Wildwood coming? Had any ghostly experiences?”
Leave it to Savannah to bring up the supernatural. As the area’s premier ghost hunter, Revel wasn’t surprised. “Well, there have been a few things.” Revel moved his bottle cap along the seam of the picnic table. “I hear a woman crying occasionally, but that’s probably my imagination. Sometimes things aren’t where I left them, but—”
Savannah perked up. “I’d like to come over and look around sometimes.”
Patrick snorted. “Savannah, save some of that excitement for the bedroom.”
Revel laughed. He loved how these two teased one another. “You’re always welcome at my home. You don’t need an invitation. However, if you find a ghost, I expect you to bring her home with you.”
Never missing a beat, Savannah replied, “You think your ghost is female?”
“Females tend to cause me most problems in life, so yes.”
Patrick roared at Revel’s answer. His laughter caused his petite dark-haired wife to swat him on the butt playfully. “Stop it, women are a blessing.”
“If you’ve got the right one, sugar.” Patrick kissed her on the head. “And you are certainly the right one for me. I can still remember the first time I saw you at the Acadian Culture Center, you offered me cookies for a kiss.”
“That wasn’t exactly the way it happened.” Savannah grinned. “But I will give you a kiss now—for a hushpuppy.”
Patrick grabbed her, kissed her soundly, then slapped Revel on the back. “Women…can’t live without ‘em. What you been doing today?”
Revel cleared his throat, wondering if his best friends would think him crazy. “Harley and Beau came to see me. I gave Harley some Iris tubers and she picked up an impression from Harper.” He stopped talking for a minute, making sure he said what he wanted to say. “She said Harper came to see me after I was shot. I dreamed she did, but I didn’t know it was real.”
“Well, that’s great!” Savannah did a small fist-pump in the air. “I believe in Harley, I think she’s great.”
“Yea, I’d almost given up. The last I saw of Harper, she was at that friend’s beach house in Galveston. She told me she didn’t want me anymore, so I didn’t know if I should even try.”
“Of course you have to try.” Patrick reinforced Savannah’s sentiments. “I remember the day you told me she was the one for you.” He kissed his wife. “It was the same day I saw Savannah’s face in the well—my destiny.”
Revel nodded. “I agree, that’s why I took another approach today.”
“What’s that?” Savannah asked, her face sympathetic.
“I went to church and prayed, then visited Nana Fontenot and got her to give me a little hoodoo help.” Revel reddened a little, he didn’t like to appear desperate, but that’s what he was.
“Sounds like you’ve covered all the bases.” Savannah smiled. “How did you two meet?” she asked, handing Revel a plate so he could dish up some food.
He stood and helped himself to fish and fries, accepting the glass of iced tea Patrick passed to him. “The first time I laid eyes on her she was buying a big basket of strawberries at the farmer’s market. I fell head over heels. But the first time I talked to her was at a Cajun fais-do-do.”
“Ah, a dance, I bet that was romantic.” Savannah sighed, stars in her eyes.
“We danced every dance together,” Revel reminisced. “After that night, we were inseparable. I braved Clotille Deveraux and won her over. I fell so hard for that woman.”
“Clotille?” Patrick asked with a smirk.
“Harper.” He rolled his eyes at Patrick.
Savannah waved them quiet, then she asked, her voice low and sympathetic, “What happened?”
Revel ruffled his hair with his hand. “I screwed up, that’s what happened. I was young. She asked me for something that I should have given her without blinking an eye. The last thing she said to me before she left was that she’d always love me, and then she was gone.” Revel swallowed hard. He didn’t say that he knew Harper had moved on and he didn’t know if his friends were aware she’d dated Noah McCoy and gotten involved in some kink clubs. Confessing what Harper asked him or that he’d spent the last few years learning everything he could about what she needed—well, that was their private business. A man didn’t share things like that about his woman with others. And she was still his woman. And if he ever got the chance to prove it to her, he’d show Harper he could give her just what she craved.
“Well, I hope everything works out.” Patrick poured his old friend another glass of sweet tea. “Just know we’re here for you, whatever you need.”
“He’s right. We’ll just expect good things.” Savannah assured him.
As if on cue, his cell phone rang. Buzz! Buzz!
“Maybe that’s it!” Savannah grabbed his arm. “Answer!”
Revel stared at her, praying she was right. Stepping to one side, he took the call. When he returned to his friends, he met their eyes—a look that contained incredible wonder and mind-blowing fear on his face.
“She’s been found.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Revel flew from Baton Rouge to Kerrville on the first flight he could catch. He didn’t have all the information, but what he knew scared the living crap out of him. The phone call had come from Sheriff Kane Saucier. He knew the name, the man was a
friend of the McCoys. Revel was thankful for that association at the moment. His Harper had been found on the street, she’d been mugged. The very thought made Revel sick.
When he landed, Revel rented a car and drove straight to the hospital. He was nervous, he’d spoken to the nurse again and all he could find out was that she was unconscious, but when she’d first been brought in, she’d asked for him. She’d asked for me! A Dr. Willow Saucier was supposed to meet him and he assumed she was some relation to Sheriff Kane.
The timing wasn’t lost on Revel. Was this an answer to prayer or the result of Nana Fontenot’s magical machinations? Did it really matter? Not in his book. He wasn’t thankful she was hurt—God, no—but he was grateful he’d been notified.
As soon as he parked next to the three story glass and brick hospital, he ran through the automatic emergency room door and straight to the U-shaped nurse’s station. “I need to see Harper Summers. Dr. Willow Saucier is supposed to meet me.”
Before the young red-headed nurse could answer, he heard the click of booted footsteps behind him. “Revel Jones?”
Turning, he saw a tall, cowboy-hat wearing man with a star-shaped badge on his chest. “Sheriff?”
“Yes, I’m Kane.” He held out his hand. “Hate to meet under these circumstances. My cousin called me when Harper was brought in unconscious. We think she was mugged. She had no ID on her, but I’d met her before when she…”
“When she was dating Noah McCoy,” Revel finished for him. “It’s okay, I’m well aware. Noah and I have made our peace. I hear he’s happily married now. Can I see Harper?” He hated to push, but he hadn’t come to chat.
“Sure, sorry.” Kane started striding down the hall. “Follow me. Willow’s with her.”