Fourteen

“Allons, you lazy thing. Get up from your nap in that hammock, and let’s go fishing. You’re wasting a perfectly good Sunday afternoon.”

Theo lifted one eyelid to see his brother Alphonse staring down at him. If the truth were known, he’d been wide awake well before the skinny kid had begun stomping around the far end of the porch in the process of gathering his fishing gear.

“Arête.”

“No, I don’t believe I’ll stop.” Alphonse balanced the net in his hand, then swung it like a tennis racket within inches of Theo’s head. “Vien ici, big brother. The big ones’ll be biting this afternoon. I feel it in my bones.”

“Those bones of yours are going to find themselves broken if you come near me with that net again.” Leaning up on one elbow, Theo balanced himself on the wobbling hammock, then fired a nasty look at his brother. “Unlike you, who snored like Great-granny Delchamp’s old bulldog, I stayed awake during the pastor’s sermon this morning.”

Alphonse shrugged and tossed the net over his shoulder. “You’re absolutely right, Theo.” He paused to gather up the net and his cane pole. “But then I’d stay awake, too, if the girl I was sweet on sat three rows ahead of me on the right in a pretty yellow dress with a bow in her hair.”

Theo fairly flew out of the hammock, causing Alphonse to make tracks to the other side of the porch, then off into the yard. “Has it ever occurred to you that I might be staying awake to hear what Pastor Broussard has to say?”

His brother seemed to consider Theo’s statement for a moment. When a smile broke out on the boy’s face, Theo braced himself for the smart-aleck answer he knew he was about to hear.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I might be taking a nap in church to let Pastor Broussard’s message sink in deeper? I read something about that somewhere. Scientists think we learn just as much when we’re asleep as when we’re awake, sometimes more. Why just last Friday night I dreamed about Joseph and the coat of many colors. Wasn’t that in last week’s sermon?”

Theo nodded and relaxed his stance. “I believe it was.”

Alphonse took a step backward. “So what part of the sermon were you dreaming about last night when you kept calling the name of Cleo Trahan?”

Theo lit out across the porch and down the steps, taking care to favor his injured foot. He made a dive for his brother just in time to let him get away. Alphonse ran cackling with laughter until he disappeared behind the house.

A few minutes later, Theo heard Alphonse calling to the little guys, then watched the trio head toward the bayou for an afternoon of fishing. As one last hurrah, Alphonse turned and saluted him with the cane pole.

“All hail, King Theophile,” he called. “See him pine away on the porch, wishing he could make Cleo Trahan his queen.”

Stomping across the grass, Theo pretended to give chase. Alphonse broke out in a run, the younger brothers following in hot pursuit.

Theo laughed at his brother’s antics. He’d have to slug him if he caught him, so allowing the kid to think he could outrun his big brother served two purposes. It got rid of Alphonse without hurting him, and it left Theo with peace and quiet.

Just in case Alphonse had a mind to return, Theo hobbled around the perimeter of the porch a few times before settling back into the hammock. He was about to close his eyes when he spied a flash of color coming up the road from the far end of the property.

Sitting up, he narrowed his eyes and tried to make out the identity of the one who walked toward the house. As the person drew nearer, he pegged her for a female—most likely one of his numerous aunts or cousins—clad in a light-colored dress.

“Figures,” he said under his breath.

After all, the house was quiet, the boys were fishing, and Mama and the girls were away making visits. Why wouldn’t he and Papa have their naps interrupted by kinfolk?

Theo groaned. Another reason to head on down the road as soon as possible.

A man needed his Sunday afternoon nap, or Monday morning just didn’t start right. Once Monday was ruined, the rest of the week generally followed suit.

“Before you know it, a whole week’s lost and all for want of a nap.”

He decided to pretend deep sleep in the hopes that which-ever aunt or cousin arrived on the doorstep would not disturb him. After all, no woman—Cajun or otherwise—who’d been raised right would wake up a workingman on a Sunday afternoon, leastways not in his opinion.

So he settled back and headed for dreamland, only occasionally taking a peek from beneath his eyelids to check the visitor’s progress. She wore yellow and carried a package under her arm.

How nice. At least she thought to bring something.

“I hope it’s a pie,” he murmured as he snuggled deeper into the softness of the hammock. “One good thing about being back in Latagnier. A man can sure eat good here.”

He cast one last glance at whichever aunt or cousin approached, then closed his eyes. What seemed only a moment later, he awoke with a start. The woman was within spitting distance of the house before his tired brain made the connection.

Yellow.

Cleo Trahan.

He sat up so fast, it made his head spin. Actually it spun the hammock, too, landing him rear-end first on the porch floor. Theo scrambled up and landed on his sore foot.

For a minute, he gave serious consideration to heading indoors to hide or taking to the woods in the hopes she might give up and go home. But before she went home, most likely she’d run into at least one family member.

Wouldn’t Papa have fun talking to her? First thing you know, his father would be spilling all sorts of information, not the least of which would be his opinion about the fact that his eldest son was well past twenty-five and still unmarried. Then he’d surely inquire as to whether Mademoiselle Trahan had a steady beau. After that, who knew what can of worms Papa would open?

Well, Theo just wouldn’t let that happen.

Groaning, he hobbled off the porch. The foot that seemed to be healing now felt worse than yesterday.

Further proof that Cleo Trahan was a menace.

Better to head her off than to take the chance that she might be spotted by one of the family. The brothers were fishing, Papa was napping, and the ladies were visiting, but around here, you never knew when a relative would pop out of the woodwork.

The last thing he needed was to have one of the family see him visiting with Cleo Trahan. He might be closer to thirty than twenty, but teasing from his family still plagued him. He had a mind not to hear more of it on the Lord’s Day.

Cleo waved and picked up her pace. “Bonjour.”

To compensate, Theo had to hurry along, as well—not an easy thing, considering the shooting pain in his foot. His gaze shifted from his guest to the package she carried in the crook of her arm.

“Well now. This is a surprise.”

She shifted the package to her other arm and looked up at him, eyes wide. “I’d hoped to speak to you after church this morning, but you were gone before I could reach you.”

“Yes, well, I tend to slip out quickly.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Her smile should have pleased him. Instead it set his warning bells off. An awkward silence fell between them. He could stand here all day and look at her. He also needed to send her home.

Only the sound of children’s laughter set him in motion. “Why don’t you and I find someplace quiet and set a spell?”

“That would be lovely.”

Lovely? She had no idea.

Taking her by the elbow, Theo led his visitor toward the nearest source of cover—a stand of oak trees just ahead on their left.

“The bayou is so pretty this time of year,” she said as she allowed him to guide her to a secluded spot beside a crook in the bayou.

So are you, he could have added.

Theo looked both directions before choosing a little grassy place beside the water. “Here, how about you and me sit over there?” He pointed to an upended cedar log, a natural bench he and Alphonse had found just that past week.

With no sign of the fishermen and no more noise from the women, he felt almost certain they could have a measure of privacy. Now if he could just get the woman to speak her piece and go on home.

Once she settled herself on the log, the Trahan woman placed the package in her lap, then waited for him to take a seat beside her. She traced the length of the string-tied package and picked at the brown paper wrapping.

“I have a gift for you.” She bit her lip and looked away. “I hope you like it.”

A fish jumped with a plop, sending ripples out from the center of the black bayou water. Theo watched the circle widen and tried to think of the right way to send this sweet girl back home without accepting her gift. If he took whatever she brought him, he’d be beholden to her, and that just wouldn’t do.

He finally braved a look down into a face that beamed with happiness. Once again, his heart sunk.

How easy it would be to let himself fall in love with her. Not just be smitten, as he’d been ever since their dinner together several weeks ago, but actually be in once-in-a-lifetime love. No, he’d begun to believe that he might actually be able to spend the rest of his life with this woman.

Happily, no less.

Theo shrugged off the frightening thought with a roll of his shoulders. “How come you bring me a present, Cleo, eh?”

Cleo continued to toy with the wrappings. Finally she smiled. “I have several reasons, actually.” She paused and seemed to be considering her words. “First, I feel I owe you a debt of gratitude for all you’ve done.”

“Aw, I haven’t done anything.”

She shook her head. “That’s not true. Way back at the beginning, you could have told my uncle on me, and you didn’t. You brought back the basket I left at the schoolhouse, even though it meant you got soaked by the storm.”

He lifted a finger as if to make an important point. “I’ll admit you’re right about the first one, but I got a shrimp dinner out of bringing that basket to you. I’ll tell you something. Your aunt’s shrimp étouffée makes me want to fetch more baskets. I’d never admit it to my mama, but I hadn’t thought anybody could best her in a cooking contest until now.”

“Actually,” she said slowly as she gave him a sideways glance, “I cooked the shrimp.”

“Did you now?”

Well, this was some news. Pretty as a newborn foal, and she could cook, too? Good thing he was sitting down. His knees were feeling a little wobbly.