by Lexi Blake
The worry had never gone away, even after he’d been cancer-free for years.
And he’d still ended up here.
“You managed to talk to Seraphina Guidry and the church didn’t explode.” Calvin looked perfectly respectable in his thousand-dollar tailored suit. He knew how to dress his best. Her older child was heartbreakingly handsome, but there was a devil-may-care glint to his eyes that always worried her.
She stared forward. She could see the back of Seraphina Guidry’s light blond hair. She truly did have the look of an angel, but she had been poorly named. An angel wouldn’t have led her baby boy into hell.
“I wasn’t talking to her,” she replied quietly. “I was giving my condolences to Delphine.”
“I thought you hated Delphine, too.”
“I don’t hate anyone.” Hate wasn’t ladylike. Disdain was acceptable as long as it was for moral or societal reasons and not based on emotion. It was a lesson she’d learned well from her husband and mother-in-law. “Delphine and I don’t run in the same circles or see eye to eye on many important things. That’s all. You know I never approved of the way her daughter kept trying to force her way into our family. She took advantage of your brother.”
“She didn’t take advantage of my brother, and that was the problem,” Cal said under his breath.
She turned and gave her son a look she’d perfected over her thirty years as a Beaumont.
It was enough to make Cal sit back. “Sorry, Momma. Hey, is there a reason I’m the only one forced to come to this thing today? And honestly, why are we here? You might not hate the Guidrys but you sure don’t like them.”
Her son needed to understand that they had a duty to the community around them. She’d been lax in the last decade. Since her mother-in-law had gone on to her reward— the fiery depths of hell if there was any justice in the universe—she’d relaxed many of the normal rules and the motherly lectures. And then Wes had died three years ago and she hadn’t found the will to do anything but go through the motions. “It’s our duty to be here, to be seen. You’re a Beaumont. We’re one of the most important families in Papillon. Beaumont Oil employs much of this town, and being good stewards means showing our faces at events like this. We give comfort to the families.”
At least that was how she saw it. Her husband had put it differently. He’d believed they had to show their faces so no one forgot how important they were. In Ralph Beaumont’s mind, they had always been the royal family and no one should question their place.
“I don’t know that Sera gets a whole lot of comfort from you,” Cal said wryly. “Do they need comfort? It wasn’t like Irene was all soft and cuddly. That woman was mean.”
“She was family so I assure you they feel the loss.”
Cal’s hand came out and covered hers. “You’re right. You always miss family.”
He was such an irritating boy, and then he would be sweet as pie and prove that he understood her. She squeezed his hand. “And Angie has an appointment. Weddings trump funerals. Everything has to be perfect for your sister’s big day.”
The wedding of her daughter to a lovely man who would make her the best husband was the first thing to brighten her life in what felt like the longest time. She was turning a corner. Her daughter was getting married, Cal was settling into his place at the head of Beaumont Oil, and she was making a connection with her nephew. It had only taken her years, but she might be able to find some small piece of herself again.
Being around Harry had proven that girl she’d been was still there deep down. Her sister was stamped all over that beautiful young man’s face. And her sister’s kindness was there, too. So many years had been wasted and now Janelle was gone. So much of her family gone. So much time lost.
She felt old and she wanted very badly to find one thing that could make her feel young again.
“Who do you think will inherit Guidry Place?” she heard herself asking. She kept her voice low because the last thing she needed was someone to overhear. It wasn’t proper to talk about inheritance at a funeral, though often it was the only thought that went through people’s heads. She was cynical enough to know that. “Didn’t I hear something about Irene leaving it to the cats? Can you leave property to felines?”
Cal snorted, an inelegant sound she should correct, but she let it pass. “I believe the rumor is she’s leaving the whole place to a cat shelter.”
The idea made her shudder. Guidry Place was half a mile from her own house and had some of the most spectacular views of what the locals called Butterfly Bayou.
Wouldn’t it make a beautiful wedding present to Angela? She didn’t like the thought of her baby girl being so far away. One day Beaumont House would be Cal’s. Shouldn’t Angie’s family have something, too?
Her husband will take care of her. All she has to do is take care of her family, and her husband will provide. Ralph’s words came back to her. It was what he’d said the first time she’d mentioned setting up a trust for Angela. He’d been willing to do it for Wesley but only because Wes had agreed to go to business school and set himself up to become CEO for the company Ralph’s grandfather had built.
Beaumont women were to be pretty, obedient, and well trained. A bit like a show dog.
The only reason Celeste herself had been provided for at all had been her husband’s laziness when it came to rewriting his will. He’d intended to leave everything to Calvin. He’d told her it was family tradition, and it would be up to Cal to take care of her and his siblings the way he saw fit.
And she’d accepted it. She hadn’t even argued with him. Being the “queen” hadn’t turned out to be so great in the end. Not in a world where only kings were acknowledged.
She wasn’t going to leave her daughter dependent.
“We should find that shelter,” she said.
Cal leaned in. “You want to buy it? Why? We don’t need any extra space, Momma. Hell, we have ten bedrooms as it is.”
“I have my reasons.” She settled back, satisfied for the moment. “Just find out that information for me. And look for your cousin after the ceremony. Helena called him out here earlier on some kind of lighting emergency. I don’t like the fact that the townspeople are already taking advantage of Harry.”
She had to watch out for her nephew. The women here tended to pounce on new men in town like tigers looking for prey. Every woman with an unattached daughter, granddaughter, or niece would lick their chops the minute they saw her sweet, kindhearted nephew.
He reminded her so much of her Wesley.
“I’ll look into who owns Guidry Place now,” Cal promised. “And I’ll look after Harry. Hell, I would do that anyway. You know how many women are going to be after him? I’ll be drowning in the women he doesn’t choose.”
Again, she sent him that withering look.
He straightened. “I mean perhaps I can help him make good decisions.”
She shook her head as the choir started up. He was such a scamp. “I think that will be the other way around. Remember we have to go to work on Monday, and don’t spend the whole weekend trying to prove what a bad boy you are.”
Cal breathed deep, a sure sign he was holding back on her. “Of course.”
He hated work but someone had to take over Beaumont Oil and it wouldn’t be Wes, couldn’t ever be Wes.
She focused on the service in front of her. Duty. She understood that. She’d been doing her duty for thirty years and only once had she really failed.
She would not fail again.
* * *
***
Harrison Jefferys screwed the wall plate in and flicked on the now functioning light. The priest’s office was illuminated once more. “Let there be light.”
Helena Antoine clapped her hands together. “And you’re funny, too. I would not have suspected anyone from Celeste Beaumont’s family to be so warm and fun
ny.” The woman stopped and grimaced. “Sorry. That wasn’t very charitable of me.”
No, but it was a pretty accurate assessment of his aunt. He slipped the flathead screwdriver back into his toolbox. He hadn’t needed to carry the whole thing in. It turned out to be frayed wiring that had done the deed. The mystery of the flickering lights was solved by handiwork once again. That was him. Harrison of House Jefferys, first of his name, single of leg, and the king of all things handy. “It’s all right. I’m pretty sure my aunt Celeste lives to be feared.”
Unlike his sweet mother. His mother had known how to love in a way he wasn’t sure his aunt had figured out. His mother had loved his father despite poverty, despite illness, despite bad luck. They’d been the unluckiest family in the world, and god how he missed them now.
“Well, we were all surprised to hear you were coming for a visit,” Helena said, straightening the papers on her boss’s desk. She was the church secretary, and she’d been nearly hysterical on the phone. Apparently the good father wasn’t used to working in the dark. Harry rather thought she’d believed there were supernatural forces at work.
“That’s because it’s not so much a visit as a command performance. I’m here to work. I think Aunt Celeste likes the idea of having family on this particular project.” Or all the other contractors knew how picky his aunt could be and managed to find themselves too busy to do the job. His cousin Angela was turning into a bit of a bridezilla, too.
“Celeste never talks about the family she came from.”
That’s because Aunt Celeste was the grand dame of Papillon and she liked to forget that she came from a working-class community outside Dallas. She liked to pretend her mother hadn’t cleaned houses and her father hadn’t worked on cars for a living. “Well, you know how it goes. She moved away and started a family here.”
It was only because Celeste hadn’t abandoned her younger sister in her time of need that Harry had come when she’d called. Celeste had visited occasionally, always staying at some ritzy hotel in Dallas and inviting them out for lunch. She’d never come to the home he’d grown up in, the tiny two-bedroom apartment in a lower-class neighborhood. But when his father had passed, Celeste had been the one to sit beside his mom and promise her everything would be all right. Celeste had covered the funeral expenses and made sure they had food on the table.
His aunt had a heart, though sometimes it was hard to see through all the designer wear.
“Well, I knew Ralph’s mother, and anyone who could survive living with that mean old lady would have to develop some thick skin,” Helena said.
He was rapidly coming to realize that everyone knew everyone else here in Papillon and they liked to talk. It was interesting to try to figure out this family of his. “I never met my aunt’s husband. He was obviously a successful man.”
“His family was successful,” Helena corrected. “Ralph’s father was an oilman back in the day. His family once owned a big ranch in Texas, but back in the thirties they found oil underground, and that’s where the wealth came from. He married a woman from New Orleans and settled here. I think they liked it here because they could rule the town. Still do. Not a lot gets done here without either Celeste Beaumont or Rene Darois having a say. The Beaumont and Darois families have run this town for a long time. The rich always seem to get their way.”
“I don’t think having her son die was my aunt’s way. Or Uncle Ralph having a heart attack a year later.” His aunt wasn’t the warmest person in the world, but she’d been through a lot.
“Of course.” Helena had gone a nice shade of red. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”
“Takes a lot to offend me, but it’s good to remember we all have pain. Money can’t fix everything.” It was one of the lessons he’d learned. His cousin Wes had everything going for him. He’d had money and connections and a bright future he’d traded for a deadly accident in the desert half a world away from home. Harry hadn’t had anything material growing up but he’d managed to survive. Death, he’d learned, was the great equalizer.
“Yes, it is good to remember,” Helena agreed. “How long are you going to be in town? I heard you’re working on that beautiful old gazebo.”
It would be beautiful once he’d torn most of it down and replaced it with not-rotting wood. His cousin Angela wanted the gazebo as the focal point of what she called her “rustic elegance” theme for the reception. It was a rich people problem, but then he was good at solving those. “I’ll be here for about six weeks. I’ll stay for the wedding.”
And then he would roam for a while. It was what he’d done since he’d gotten out of the Army. His mother had passed and he’d found himself without a home to return to. He couldn’t seem to stay in one place for long, so he moved around, doing odd jobs, visiting with old friends. At first he’d told himself it was only until he’d gotten his head straight, but he was going on two years now and it was beginning to be normal to sleep on a friend’s sofa, and he knew every cheap motel in the Western United States.
Lately he’d started to think it might be nice to settle down somewhere, to find a job, to start his life. He just wasn’t sure how.
Helena started to lead him down the hallway. A heavenly smell hit his nose and his stomach growled, reminding him that he’d skipped lunch to work on this project at the church. His aunt kept strict mealtimes. He would need to hit a restaurant if he wanted to eat before the six p.m. supper.
“Well, if you need anything at all, you call me. If you need someone to show you around, I’ve got a granddaughter who knows the town very well. She would be thrilled to familiarize you with our Papillon. She works at the courthouse, knows all the best places to eat.” Helena had her keys in hand, but it looked like someone had left the door to the parking lot open. “I guess the reception’s started. We had a service for poor Irene Guidry today.”
His aunt had mentioned she was going to a funeral.
The door opened and a familiar face walked through. His cousin Calvin strode his way, adjusting his tie. “Hey, Harry, the funeral’s over and the drinking can start . . . I mean eating. Cajuns know how to throw a reception. There’s gumbo. If there’s one thing Guidrys do right, it’s gumbo. Mom left, but I get to stay and represent the family, if you know what I mean.”
“Don’t you dare spike the punch, Calvin Beaumont.” Helena pointed a finger his cousin’s way.
Calvin shrugged. “I don’t have to. Zep brought it. It’s probably eighty percent hooch. Don’t worry. Lisa made sure he didn’t get close to the lemonade. Besides, Harry can give me a ride home, so I don’t have to bum one off someone here. Naturally my mother took the Benz.”
“You behave,” Helena said with a wave of her hand. “Don’t listen to your cousin, Harry. He’s a rascal of the highest order. Now you let me know when you want to go out with . . . when Debra can show you around.”
“He will,” Cal said with a smirk. “I’ll make sure of it.” He put a hand on Harry’s arm to lead him toward the reception hall. “This is going to be fun. They’ll stop bugging me about getting married and start in on the new guy. Ever since Angie got engaged, my mother has been asking me when I’m going to settle down and give her grandkids. Every momma in town with a single daughter parades her past me like I’m some kind of prize to catch. Now that part is true. I’m very much marriage material. The trouble is I don’t want to get married. I want to have some fun. I would watch out for Debbie. Her grandma thinks she’s an angel, but she’s got about forty hands after a couple of drinks. And the woman talks. A lot. If you don’t want to have every second of your performance harshly graded, you’ll stay away from that one.”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to go to a funeral reception. He was in jeans and a T-shirt. He still had his beat-up old toolbox in his hand. “I didn’t know the deceased. Maybe I should go back to the house.”
Shep would be waiting on him. Shep was a big Germa
n shepherd he’d brought home with him from Afghanistan after they’d both been discharged from duty. The dog had sat near his truck and looked at him with sad eyes when he realized he was being left behind. Shep wasn’t used to being left behind. He was pretty much used to spending every minute of the day with Harry.
“Come on.” Cal put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got to meet the fine folks of this town at some point. And no one’s real upset about Irene Guidry. That was the single craziest old lady I ever met, and I’ve met most of Momma’s Rotary Club, so that’s saying something.”
He found himself standing in the doorway of the church reception hall. There were a bunch of people milling about, most with red cups in their hands. “For a crazy old lady, she drew quite a crowd.”
“Oh, everyone comes out for funerals in these parts,” Cal admitted as he made his way to the big crystal punch bowl and got himself a cup. “There’s not a lot else to do so weddings and funerals are big social events.” He took a long drink. “And damn, but Zep’s got a heavy hand with the rum. There’s way more rum than punch. The Guidrys might be trash, but trash around here usually knows how to party.”
He wasn’t sure he liked his cousin referring to anyone as trash, but he didn’t know the family well. He did know he’d heard the name Guidry from his aunt’s mouth and it was obvious she didn’t think much of them. “I think I’ll try the lemonade.”
“Suit yourself.” Cal refilled and looked around the crowd. “I’m going to see what Josette has going on. Now, there’s a woman I could spend some time with. Some fun time.”
His cousin winked and walked off toward a slender blonde.
He was rapidly discovering his cousin was a bit of a douchebag.
“You’re the new guy.”
He turned to find his own pretty blonde staring up at him. She was petite, barely coming up to his shoulders, and he would bet half her weight was in that hair. It flowed past her shoulders almost to her waist, and there was so much of it. Thick, honey-colored silk. Sky blue eyes found his own and held him there. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and he noted that she was drinking the lemonade.
