“You’ll live.”
She watched his lips quirk at the edges, his dark eyes shining with amusement. But then, the amusement began to fade.
“So what really happened?” he asked quietly.
She felt silly as her eyes brimmed with sudden tears. She started to turn away from him, but his arms went around her.
“Miranda?”
“Can we just . . . sit down first?”
While Etienne chose a spot at the table, she busied herself with his food, brought him another towel. Anything to distract herself, to keep all the new revelations from crowding in and overwhelming her too fast. Finally Etienne stopped her, took the bread pudding, then gently—but firmly—pushed her down in a chair.
“Whatever it is, you’re not gonna get rid of it by running. And I’m always gonna believe you, no matter what.”
“I know what really happened now. To Nathan. And Ellena. And Travis Fontaine.”
With a look of mild surprise, Etienne pushed his bowl away and leaned toward her. “I’m listening.”
“They’re all connected, just like we thought. Only the betrayal wasn’t just about Travis and Ellena. Ellena thought Nathan betrayed her to Travis. But Nathan didn’t. It was the chain and her hair. And the two of them were in love, which made it even worse. And Nathan made a promise to her, but they both died, and they couldn’t be together—”
“Whoa, whoa...” Etienne’s concern had turned to confusion. “Time out. Back up.” While Miranda took a deep breath and started over, he retrieved his bowl and ate the bread pudding. He chewed slowly, deep in thought. Then he leaned back in his chair.
“Maybe I should put this another way,” he said. “Is there something you didn’t figure out before I got here?”
“Where the watch is.”
“The . . .”
“Watch. That’s what Grandpa found at the Falls that day. And what he’s been trying to tell me.” Miranda’s voice tightened. “I think Nathan wants me to take the watch chain to Ellena. And connect it to the watch like they promised.”
“A watch. Nathan’s watch.”
“And I think if I do that, Nathan will be at peace. See, all this time I thought Grandpa was telling me to listen and to watch. But he was telling me to listen, because it was the watch. So now we have to find it.”
“Your grand-père,” Etienne murmured. “He talked to you?”
“Yes. I heard him. I’m certain of it.”
For just the briefest moment, something shimmered in the black depths of Etienne’s eyes and softened the chiseled features of his face. “That’s good, cher,” he whispered. “Good for you.”
As the two of them continued to talk, the weather continued to worsen. Mom and Aunt Teeta both called to check in—and though neither of them could come home yet, they were grateful Etienne was there. While he went in search of candles, Miranda made another pot of coffee. Refilling his cup, she suddenly had the feeling of being watched, and when she turned around, Etienne was in the doorway, observing her every move.
“I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that.” Miranda frowned.
“Like what?”
“Like . . . you can see things I don’t want you to see.”
“Too late.”
“Stop.” She did her best to sound stern. “Now I know how Gage feels.”
“Except for the dimples.”
“Right. Except for those.”
"Not to worry, cher. You got a whole lotta other redeeming qualities.”
Picking up a napkin, Miranda tossed it at him. “Drink your coffee.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
But she could still feel him watching. And when she passed his chair, he caught her and pulled her close.
She stood silently, facing him. She set the coffeepot on the table. Gently she ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair . . . along the angles of his face. She heard his slight intake of breath, felt the sudden tensing of his muscles.
His hands encircled her waist. She gazed down at him, and bent slowly to kiss him . . .
The phone shrilled loudly, jarring them apart. As Miranda hurried to answer it, she could hardly breathe.
“Hello?”
But she couldn’t make out the voice on the other end. The voice crying and babbling so fast, words spilling out, making no sense. When she finally heard the name “Etienne,” she quickly handed him the receiver.
It was as though he already knew something was wrong. Even before he saw the fear on Miranda’s face, even before he took the phone. And then there were only those few short words, those few foreign words he spoke, before jumping up and heading for the door.
Miranda stood frozen with dread. “What is it?”
“Roo’s gone. Ashley says she never came home after school.”
“What—”
“She’s afraid Roo might be at the Falls.”
"Now? Why?”
“Some argument they got into, something about Parker. And Roo was plenty mad and wouldn’t ride with them and said she was gonna walk home so she could think.”
“Ashley told me Roo always goes to the Falls when she’s upset. But it floods there, doesn’t it?”
“That’s why I gotta go. Now. I’m gonna stop and get Parker.”
“What about Gage?”
"Aunt Jules—Gage’s mom—just called Ashley’s house, looking for him. Ashley told her they were all there studying—she didn’t want Aunt Jules to worry.” Etienne’s expression darkened. “I guess Aunt Jules’s van is gone.”
"What about Ashley’s parents?” Yet as Etienne sighed, Miranda knew what the answer would be. “Let me guess. Ashley told them Roo and Gage are at Gage’s house.”
“You got it.”
“Look, you know Gage must have driven Roo to the Falls. And you know he’ll take good care of her.”
“Stay here. I’ll call as soon as I can.”
But Miranda was already grabbing a rain jacket from the front hall closet. “Absolutely not. I’m coming with you.”
Before he could say no, she ran after him, out into the storm.
30
"IT’S ALL MY FAULT,” ASHLEY SOBBED. “What if she’s dead?”
The four of them were squeezed tightly into Etienne’s truck. With every shift of the clutch and each turn of the wheel, Etienne’s right arm jabbed sharply into Miranda’s side, and Ashley bounced back and forth between Miranda’s lap and Parker’s. The old Chevy truck, way past its prime, rattled and clanked and groaned at every pothole and puddle, but it hugged the roads like glue.
“It’s not your fault,” Parker reassured Ashley for the dozenth time. “You didn’t know what she was planning to do. How could it be your fault?”
“The water always gets so deep at the Falls. The bayou always floods. If she’s dead—”
“She’s not dead.” He paused, then mumbled, “I couldn’t be that lucky.”
“Parker Wilmington, I can’t even believe you said—”
“I was kidding, Ash. Okay, sorry, bad timing, but I was kidding, okay? Roo’s fine. And none of this is your fault.”
Gulping down a hiccup, Ashley glared at him. “You’re right. It’s your fault.”
“My fault?”
“You know she caught you drinking in the parking lot!”
“Just a little! I swear, I only had one sip—”
“You’re heartless and insensitive, and you hate my sister.”
“Christ, Ashley, I don’t hate your sister—”
“You told her I care more about you than I do about her, and that’s not true!”
“I know it’s not—and Roo knows it’s not. It was a joke! I wasn’t serious!”
“I’m always defending you, and Roo’s always been smarter than me. Roo would never get involved with somebody like you.”
Parker shot Etienne another helpless glance. “Is that good or bad?”
“I wouldn’t be doing any more talking right now, if I were you,” Etienne advised him.
/> “Roo looks out for me. Roo has better sense than I do,” Ashley went on miserably. “It’s always been that way, ever since we were little. She’s always had the brains. And I’ve always had . . . not the brains.”
Etienne’s eyes and Parker’s eyes met behind Ashley’s back.
“Not going there,” Etienne mumbled. Then to Ashley, “Don’t be worrying about Roo, cher. Parker’s right—she’s gonna be fine.”
“Yeah.” Parker’s tone was equally reassuring. “Gage is with her right this minute.”
Miranda could tell Ashley wanted to believe them. But the girl’s eyes were still bleary with tears, and her lips were quivering.
“If something happens to Roo, I’ll never forgive myself.” Sniffling, Ashley stared dejectedly out Parker’s window. It was impossible to see anything but gusting rain.
“Nothing’s gonna happen to her, cher.”
“You promise?”
Etienne didn’t miss a beat. “Sure, I promise.”
As Miranda glanced at his silhouette, she saw that telltale muscle clench in his cheek. His body was rigid. He was clutching the steering wheel so fiercely, his knuckles were white. For the first time, she realized just how worried he actually was—far more worried than he wanted anyone to suspect.
A fresh wave of fear washed over her.
Hunching down inside her jacket, Miranda tried to concentrate on a happy ending. Tried to believe how someday they’d all look back on this and laugh, just another crazy adventure. Outside, the storm shrieked and roared; in here, it was stuffy and hot and damp. She could smell fear and sweat, mud and wet hair and wet clothes, the faint sweetness of Ashley’s perfume.
“The road’s already flooding.” Ashley sounded alarmed. “How long do you think till the bayou—”
“Hours yet,” Etienne replied, a little too quickly.
But Miranda’s imagination filled in the rest. She braced against Parker as Etienne began swerving more often, more sharply, around broken limbs and downed trees. The wipers were no match for the storm now; the headlights barely penetrated the rain. She couldn’t even see the hood of the truck.
“Can’t you go faster?” Ashley pleaded.
“Any faster, and we’ll be the ones needing a rescue.” Etienne gripped the wheel even tighter. He hunched his shoulders and took another angry swipe at the windshield.
Miranda leaned in close to his ear. “Don’t worry. Gage will be fine, too.”
For just a brief instant, Etienne’s defenses seemed to crumble. For just a brief instant, she caught a glimpse of emotions—both panic and hope. And then, just as fast, his jaw set in a determined line, and he cast her a smooth, sidelong glance.
“Is that you, smelling like an old cheeseburger?”
Startled, she couldn’t help laughing. “That is not me—that is something, somewhere, in this digustingly dirty truck of yours.”
“No, I don’t think so. No, I definitely think it’s—Hey, that’s Aunt Jules’s van over there.”
“Where?” Leaning across Miranda, Parker squinted out Etienne’s window. “Are you sure?”
“As sure as I am that it’s stuck in the mud,” Etienne grumbled. “And as sure as I am that Gage is gonna be grounded for the rest of his life.”
“At least we know they’re here.” A tiny bit of relief crept into Ashley’s voice. “Do you see them anywhere?”
"It doesn’t look like they’re in the van, but—Merde!”
As the brakes slammed and held, the truck skidded deep into water. Parker managed to catch Ashley right before she hit the dashboard.
“Now what?” Parker demanded.
Etienne’s tone was as grim as his face. “Well, I guess we know why they got stuck, yeah? No way we can get any farther on this road. The water’s too high.”
“Is there another way in? Maybe from another direction?”
“Only the bayou.”
“What about your boat?”
“That’ll take too long, and we can’t risk the time.” Gunning the engine, Etienne tried backing the truck onto a stretch of higher ground. But when the tires spun uselessly, he shut off the ignition, twisted around, and grabbed two flashlights from behind the seat.
“Take this.” Handing one to Parker, Etienne kept the other for himself. “You girls stay here where it’s safe.”
“Safe!” Ashley wailed. “It’s flooded, and we’ll float away!”
“You won’t float away, Ashley. I swear.”
“Hey, we’ll take our chances with you,” Miranda shot back, scrambling out with Ashley before Etienne could shut his door.
Holding on to one another, the four of them made slow, painstaking progress. What rain gear they wore did little to protect them; within seconds they were all completely soaked. Clutching both Etienne’s hand and Ashley’s, Miranda stayed alert for alligators and water moccasins and other creepy things that might be escaping to higher ground. She couldn’t see into the murky water, couldn’t see where to step. She had no sense of direction, no clue where they were headed. Maybe Ashley and I should have stayed in the truck.
But Etienne seemed entirely sure of himself. He led them steadily through the downpour, all of them shouting as loud as they could.
“Roo! Gage!”
“Why aren’t they answering?” Ashley looked so pathetic, shivering like a drowned rat. When Miranda stopped to hug her, Parker wrapped both girls in a tight hug of his own.
“Roo!” Etienne kept calling. “Gage!”
A blinding flash of lightning ripped the sky. Miranda caught a split-second glance of what she thought might be the Falls, just ahead of them. She tried to go faster, pulling Ashley along with her.
“Roo! Gage!” Mockingly, the storm flung all their shouts back at them. “Roo! Where are you? It’s us! Gage! Come on, y’all— answer!”
The four trudged on. As Ashley slipped and jerked Miranda down with her into the water, Parker immediately hauled them both up again.
“They’re not here!” Ashley wept. “I know something terrible’s happened. I know it!”
“No, Ashley, they’re okay,” Miranda insisted. “I’m sure they’ve taken shelter somewhere—they just can’t hear us, that’s all.”
But Miranda was just as terrified—totally panicked and trying not to show it. It was like being forced back into the hurricane— the awful tragedy happening all over again—howling wind . . . drowning rain . . . the house falling in . . . the world falling apart and nobody to help . . .
Once more she stumbled, then realized that Parker still had a firm grip on her, that he was tucking her inside his jacket, the same way he was tucking Ashley against his other side, shielding them both, steering them both to safety.
“Roo!” Parker was hoarse from yelling. “Dammit, are you out here? Gage!”
And then . . . miraculously . . . came the faint sound of a voice—thin and weak and frightened, and not so far away . . .
“Here!” it called back. “We’re over here!”
"Roo!” Ashley screamed. “Oh God, that’s Roo!”
New strength surged through them as they tried to run, sloshing through mud and muck and water and debris, flashlights slicing the dark.
“I see her!” Etienne called. “Roo! You okay?”
“Yes! But Gage—”
“Gage!”
It was the fear in Etienne’s voice that pierced Miranda’s heart. The stark, raw fear as Etienne shouted his cousin’s name and struggled on ahead of them, then suddenly dropped to his knees.
At first Miranda didn’t notice anything but the tree. The gigantic tree uprooted and split open on the ground, its massive branches splayed in all directions. But as she got closer, there was movement among the layers and layers of drenched leaves—just a slight movement—and the small, huddled figure of a girl, and the sobs of her desperate pleading.
“Help him! You’ve got to help him! Hurry ! ”
Scrambling easily over the twisted limbs and foliage, Parker was the next to r
each Roo, with Ashley and Miranda right behind him. In shocked silence, the three of them stared at the cuts and bruises on Roo’s face and arms, the blood on Roo’s clothes . . . but nothing could have prepared them for what they saw next.
“Gage,” Roo choked. “He pushed me out of the way. I think... I think he’s . . .”
Miranda’s heart stopped. Gage was sprawled on his back, pinned under one section of the tree. A huge, gnarled branch sloped down across his chest, another had caught his left leg, twisting it behind him at a grotesque angle. Blood had pooled in the wet grass around his head and beneath his shoulders. His eyes were closed. His face was white and still. He looked like some macabre rag doll, tossed carelessly out in the rain.
But almost as wrenching was the sight of Etienne. Etienne kneeling there beside Gage, feeling for a pulse, listening for a heartbeat, his features cold, hard stone.
Miranda didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath. Not till Etienne finally glanced up at them, his voice thick with emotion.
“He’s breathing. Let’s get him outta here.”
31
EVEN THEN, it took a moment for the terrible reality to sink in. While Roo and Ashley clutched each other, crying. While Parker, grave and stunned, slid his hand along Roo’s shoulder, then squatted down on his heels beside Etienne. And while Miranda bent low over Gage, to smooth the hair back from his forehead.
The storm was growing worse. As the five of them struggled frantically to free Gage, the wind blew wilder, the rain fell harder, and the limbs became heavier to move. Several times Gage roused and cried out, temporarily halting the rescue. Miranda doubted he really comprehended much, but she also knew that if his pain had managed to cross the boundaries of unconsciousness, even for a second, then it had to be excruciating.
“Shit!” Parker exploded. “This is taking too damn long!”
Roo glanced at Gage, then at Miranda. Her dark makeup was runny and smeared, her expression shocked and bewildered. “I just wanted to get away, that’s all. But he said he was coming with me, that I always think better with him around. I never thought the rain would get this bad. And he’s lost so much blood . . . and I couldn’t call 911 . . .”
Walk of the Spirits Page 22
