Sunrise Surrender--Jarrett Family Sagas--Book Three

by Vivian Vaughan

  Even Brett was surprised at the number of witnesses, some of them strangers. Then Delta tore through the brush and threw herself in his arms. He held her close to his aching heart.

  “Is it over?” she asked.

  “Oui, chère, it’s over.”

  Behind them Cameron Jarrett took charge of the prisoner, aided by Stuart Longstreet, Carson and Kale, and Gabriel and Pierre.

  Lifting her hand Delta traced Brett’s lips with tender fingers. “I was so frightened for you.”

  He winked. “Me, too.” Then he kissed her, deep and passionately, a kiss full of tenderness, replete with promises.

  Finally she drew apart, turning her attention to the tiny grave. “To think how this all began.”

  Brett knelt beside the grave and began filling the hole Trainor had dug. Delta straightened the cross.

  Brett glanced across at the grave of his wife, then back to Olivia’s. “They can rest now.”

  She thought of Calico Jack who had hanged without learning about his babe. Rest easy, she whispered, we have mourned for you, too.

  Beside her Brett crossed himself, then grasped Delta’s hand and pulled her to her feet. Above them the sky began to lighten with the coming dawn. He kissed her tenderly. “I was wrong to say we couldn’t begin again. With this new sunrise we have a second chance.”

  Her heart pumped with love and thanksgiving and hope. She lifted her lips to his, feeling his heady passion ease the tension of the last few days.

  Suddenly two hands grasped her shoulders, pulling her arms from around Brett’s neck.

  She turned startled eyes to the perpetrator. “Kale?” She looked to the man beside him. “Carson?”

  Her brothers swept her with worried looks. She watched their expressions harden; as one they transferred their attention to Brett.

  Delta reacted intuitively. Struggling in Kale’s hold, her only thought was to shield Brett from whatever ominous designs her brothers had in mind.

  But Kale retained his grip on her shoulders. Turning her around, he headed her down the path. “Run on back to the clearing, Delta. We need a word with his feller—alone.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Two days later Delta sat in the courtyard of Cousin Brady’s New Orleans home with her sisters-in-law, Ellie and Aurelia, sipping lemonade and in general being pampered by Cousin Brady’s servants. Brady, accompanied by Cousin Cameron and her brothers, Kale and Carson, had escorted Brett to the New Orleans District Attorney’s office, where Brett’s name was to be finally and forever removed from the state’s Most Wanted list.

  “They’re probably grilling Brett about some part of his past right now,” she fretted. A servant set a silver tray piled high with pastries and fruit in the center of the wrought iron table. Beyond the table a fountain splashed and around them mockingbirds sang from crape myrtle trees. Bougainvillea, camellias and magnolias bloomed in abundance. After days of grueling travel through the bayous of southern Louisiana, this was paradise. And yet without Brett, it seemed barren.

  “They mean well,” Ellie assured her.

  “Sí, they do,” Aurelia added. “But I remember how I felt when my brother interfered between Carson and me.” She laughed. “I reminded Carson of that last night. He knows better than to ruin things for you and Brett.”

  “They both do,” Ellie added.

  Delta studied both her sisters-in-law. Ellie, she had loved immediately upon meeting her in Texas almost a year before. Aurelia, she had just met, but she could see why Carson had fallen in love with her.

  “It isn’t easy being their baby sister,” Ellie consoled. “They want only the best for you.”

  Delta cast her eyes heavenward. “The best.” How well she recalled what these two overprotective brothers wanted from her. That scene in the bayou would remain etched in her brain forever.

  “They hardly greeted me before they lit into Brett.”

  “It’s their way,” Ellie defended. “Business first.”

  Delta inhaled the perfumed scents of Cousin Brady’s garden. Ellie and Aurelia were right, she knew. Her brothers had seen Brett as a threat to her best interests, and they had tried to dispatch that threat the same way they attacked all problems, forthrightly.

  She could still see the pale light of early morning glint from Kale’s implacable blue eyes when he pulled her out of Brett’s embrace. Expecting an adversary, she had been startled to see her brother, and not just one brother, but two of them, glaring at her as though she had taken up with the devil himself.

  Both brothers had swept her with their eyes. Then, obviously deciding she was unharmed, had lit into Brett. Before Delta had had time to intervene, Kale had spoken.

  “Run on back to the clearing, Delta. We need a word with this feller—alone.”

  She recognized Kale’s tone—a curt command—before his words registered. When they did, she struggled back to Brett’s side. He had just fought one major battle; how dare her brothers confront him before he had a chance to draw a peaceful breath.

  Draping his left arm around Delta’s shoulders, Brett had extended his right hand to Kale. “Anatole Dupré.”

  “We know who you are. What we’d like to hear is—”

  Carson interrupted Kale by accepting Brett’s offered hand. “Carson Jarrett, Delta’s brother. This here’s Kale, another brother.”

  Brett shook hands with Carson, then again offered his hand to Kale, who looked at it long and hard.

  “What I want to know,” Kale demanded, “is did you kidnap or in any other way wrong my sister?”

  Delta gasped. She clutched Brett around the waist. She felt his steady grip on her shoulder, heard his voice, gentle but firm.

  “Why don’t you ask her?”

  When Kale transferred his belligerent scowl to Delta, she had straightened her shoulders, somewhat assuaged by the feel of Brett’s chest against her arm. “He most certainly did not kidnap me, nor as you say wrong me in any way. He’s …” Stopping, she looked up at Brett. His serious expression fueled her anger at her brothers. “I left the boat of my own accord. He didn’t even know I’d left. He would have stopped me if he’d known. But I came because I had to be with him.” She tightened her hold on Brett. “I’m here and I will stay here forever. Even if he hadn’t been able to clear his name, I would have never left him. Even if you and every other Jarrett in the entire world try to take me away, I’ll stay—”

  “Delta,” Carson interrupted. “We’re not trying to take you anywhere. I mean, we just want to make sure you’re all right.”

  “I am.”

  “Fine,” Kale told her. “Now, run along and let us talk to Dupré.”

  Carson had placed a restraining hand on Kale’s shoulder. When he spoke, Delta thought she heard a trace of humor in his tone. “Settle down, brother. I’ve seen these tactics used before. They didn’t work then, and from the looks of things they won’t work now.”

  “They certainly won’t,” Delta had retorted.

  When Brett cleared his throat, the sound drew their attention as if it had been a cannon shot.

  “I understand your concern,” he began. Holding Delta’s gaze, he winked. “As you see, your sister hasn’t been harmed. And like she said, we’re together and we intend to stay together.” His expression had turned solemn then, delving into the depths of her blue eyes. “Will you marry me, Delta Jarrett?”

  Like Ginny had often said, Delta possessed a fanciful mind. She’d fantasized about the man of her dreams proposing to her. But she could never have imagined it like this. Never could she have seen herself standing in a swamp in the state of Louisiana with two of her brothers fighting mad at her side and the sky coloring with a new sunrise overhead, while the man of her dreams gazed into her eyes with such love and passion that it shut out every thing else—Voodoos, murdering governors, dastardly nightmares, even truculent brothers.

  She had met Brett’s lips as they descended. Her arms flew around his neck, her lips opened to his. He kissed he
r soundly, firmly, teasing her with a quick thrust of his tongue before he drew back, an amused look on his face.

  Loosening her hold, she traced a finger around his lips, conscious only of the fact that she had performed this gesture innumerable times—to the pirate in her dreams, to Brett Reall, to Anatole Dupré—and they were one and the same man, the man in her dreams, the man she would live with forever.

  “Oui,” she whispered into his lips.

  Carson had cleared his throat at that, and Delta jumped. Brett winked at her mischievously. “I told you why I needed to clear my name, chère. Seems I was right.”

  Noises from the rear of Cousin Brady’s townhouse announced the return of the men. Delta jumped from her chair and rushed to meet Brett.

  “How did it go?”

  In answer he grabbed her by the waist and swung her around the brick courtyard.

  “The Mississippi Princess is docked down at the wharves,” Cousin Brady announced. “I’ll send Maynard to fetch your trunks, Delta.”

  Brett set Delta on her feet. “Why don’t I drive her down to the docks?” Although his question was directed to Brady, his eyes remained fixed on Delta. “She might like to assure Captain Kaney and the crew that she’s well and safe.” He shrugged. “And I should make amends for running out on them like I did.”

  They took Cousin Brady’s carriage, with her cousin offering to send a dray to fetch her trunks if she wanted him to.

  The early afternoon air was softly humid and redolent with the perfume of numerous flowering plants. Brett took the reins and Delta sat beside him, idly smoothing Aurelia’s dress over her knees.

  “Fortunately Aurelia and I are near the same size,” she mused beside Brett. “Otherwise I’d have been forced to remain at the house until we got my trunks.”

  He transferred the reins to one hand and drew her toward him with his other. When he was satisfied she was as close as she could reasonably get and still allow him to drive the carriage, he lifted his arm and draped a wrist over her shoulder. “Oui,” he answered her observation. “Your trousseau awaits you.”

  She giggled, suddenly feeling giddy and free for the first time since they had met. The street they traveled gave way to a double-rutted road that traveled beneath a canopy of oak trees. She looked around.

  “The docks should be behind us.”

  Brett flicked the reins, encouraging Brady’s fine team. “Oui.”

  Curiosity bubbled inside her. An image of the picnic they shared in Memphis came to mind. “Where are we going?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Resting her cheek against his shoulder, she shook her head, letting the texture of his broadcloth jacket rub against her face. “Not as long as we’re together. And alone.”

  “That’s what I thought, too. It’s been a while.”

  “Too long.”

  They traveled in silence, letting the feel of each other simmer inside them, the anticipation build.

  “There won’t be much time,” he allowed at last, slowing the team before steering the carriage off the road. She inhaled the heavy scent of magnolias when they started down an unkempt one-lane road, finally emerging in front of a magnificent old Greek revival home.

  She sat up and looked at it. Dilapidated as it was, its former grandeur shone through. Brett set the brake and jumped down, threading the reins through the iron ring on an ancient hitching post. When he came to her side of the carriage and held his hands up she slipped eagerly into his arms.

  He kissed her once then turned her to face the house. “What do you think about it?”

  She studied the structure before replying. From the overgrown shrubbery to the sagging shutters it looked hopelessly in need of repair. But an elegance was there, hidden by neglect, beckoning some enterprising soul to come to the rescue.

  “It needs a little work,” she responded.

  “Oui.”

  The practicality of Ginny’s and Hollis’s upbringing pierced through her romantic nature. “It would cost a lot of money to do the job properly.”

  “Oui.”

  “And a fortune to furnish it and run it as a home.”

  He nudged her toward the door. The sound of rusty hinges echoed through the three-story foyer. Delta surveyed the once-elegant entrance, turning a full circle to take in the sweep of the grand circular staircase.

  “I bought it,” Brett announced.

  Abruptly she turned her attention to him. “You what?”

  “I signed the papers this morning.” He held up his hands to ward off her objections. “But with one condition.” His eyes searched hers. “That you like it as much as I do.”

  “You bought—?” She turned another full circle on her heels before meeting his intense gaze. “You bought this?”

  He nodded. “The house, the outbuildings, the cane fields and sugar mill, and several hundred additional arpents. The property fronts the Mississippi and backs up to the bayou.”

  “But we agreed,” she objected. She watched the familiar crease form between his eyes.

  “What did we agree?” he asked.

  “That it would cost a lot of money.”

  He grinned. “Oui.”

  She stared beyond him to the dark, empty rooms. “And that it would take a fortune to repair it and furnish it and—”

  “Oui.”

  “And to run it.”

  He nodded.

  “But where—?”

  His frown stopped her. “Do you like it?” he demanded.

  She held his gaze, watched him beg her to like this house. “Of course I like it, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “You do like it?”

  “Oui,” she whispered.

  Without warning he scooped her in his arms and danced around the dusty, marble-floored rotunda. “Then it’s yours.”

  “Brett,” she demanded. “Where did you get the money? How will we ever pay for such a … a palace?”

  He laughed. “The fur trade has been lucrative, chère. I have enough funds to pay for the house and anything you want to do to it or put in it, and to run the plantation for a couple of years. After that we should have the hang of things and be able to support ourselves on sugar.”

  She buried her face in his shoulder and tried to still her racing heart. What he said made sense, yet everything had happened so quickly her head swam and she could force no coherent thoughts. For once in her life facts seemed more important than fantasy.

  “It will take an awful long time to repair things.”

  Brett set her on her feet, took up her hand and led her through the mansion, all twenty-nine rooms of it. Every room had a marble fireplace and elegant chandeliers and hand-carved moldings. Upstairs the rooms across the front of the house had enormous windows that looked out upon once-lovely gardens, and beyond to the mighty Mississippi River. Their river.

  “Brady said there’s a townhouse down the street from him that’s available,” Brett told her. “We can lease it until things are ready here, if you agree.”

  Suddenly she began to laugh and once started she couldn’t stop. Brett stood back, folded his arms across his chest and watched her, an anxious look on his face.

  Finally he said, “If you don’t like this place, there are other plantations for sale up and down the river. This one seemed to offer the most in terms of making a living—”

  Her laughter stilled. “I love this place. It’s wonderful.” Stepping closer she rested her hands at his waist and looked pensively into his eyes. “Your plans are perfect. But you’ve forgotten something.”

  She watched the truth dawn in his eyes. Slowly he lowered his lips and kissed her. “Non, ma chère, I have forgotten nothing.” Taking her hand, he led her down the stairs and to the carriage. “I’ll explain on the way to the showboat. Tomorrow is the opening of the jetties. You can’t miss getting your byline on one of the biggest stories of the decade.”

  Not until they returned to Cousin Brady’s several hours later did Delta realize wh
at she had forgotten.

  “Captain Kaney invited all of us to ride through the jetties on board the Mississippi Princess tomorrow,” she told her family.

  Ellie and Aurelia were excited. Even Kale and Carson agreed readily, although Kale expressed reservations.

  “The only time I’m comfortable around that much water is when it’s to water cattle. Guess I’ve taken one trail herd too many across a swollen river.”

  Cousin Brady asked about her trunks. When Delta confessed that she had forgotten, he inquired, “Shall I send Maynard to fetch them?”

  “No.” She cast a wistful glance to Aurelia. “If you have something I can borrow to wear tomorrow.”

  “Sí.”

  The gown Aurelia offered Delta the following morning was one of the loveliest dresses Delta had ever seen—yellow tissue taffeta with bouffant sleeves and a skirt so wide she knew it would cause a stir.

  “It’s magnificent,” she sighed. “But I don’t need anything so grand.”

  “This is a big day for you,” Aurelia objected. “You are the only female journalist to report on the opening of the river. You must wear a significant gown.”

  Delta began to suspect just how significant the gown was, when she entered the courtyard an hour later and instead of a compliment, Carson favored her with a puzzled expression.

  “How significant is this gown?” she whispered to Aurelia.

  Aurelia smiled grandly.

  “Carson doesn’t like me wearing it. Why?”

  Aurelia shrugged. “He won’t mind, not really. It’s just a dress. I mean, it was the gown I wore when we got married, but—”

  Delta’s eyes flew to her new sister-in-law. “Your wedding dress?”

  Aurelia shrugged. “Sí, but I brought it to wear to important functions.” She hugged Delta. “You look beautiful in it. After all you’ve been through, you deserve something special today.”

  Tears filled Delta’s eyes. She hugged Aurelia. “Oh, Relie,” she said, using the nickname Aurelia insisted everyone except Carson call her, “I’m so lucky to have you and Ellie for sisters.”

  “We’re lucky to have you, too.” Aurelia looked across the courtyard to where Carson and Kale talked with Brett. “Those men are going to get on well. It’s sad we’ll live so far apart.”