by Zoe Dawson
We were going to New Orleans today. It would be good to get out of the house and interact with my brothers, their wives, and Boone’s children. I couldn’t get enough of Duel and Henry, and watching them while they explored the aquarium would be priceless. It would also give me an opportunity to finally show them what I had created there. The Huckleberry Café was completely finished. River had worked so hard, helping me make it and the one in Lafayette a reality, as well as the two planned for San Francisco and New York.
I’d even found a very talented chef to run the one in New Orleans, and I planned to produce some of the TV shows there.
Mostly, I was going to do them out of Outlaws’ kitchen, because that was where I began this kick-ass culinary journey. Not surprisingly I was self-taught, since I’d always done what I wanted and everyone else be damned. I built a following with my sauces, was marketing them separately now with the help of River’s family, and from there it was an easy transition right into a local TV show, and then to the franchise idea.
My cell rang on my bedside table, and I picked it up to see it was Boone. I was disappointed. River and I had talked once since yesterday, but it was clear she was leaving me alone to find the answers.
“Hey, rise and shine. We’re going to be there in fifteen minutes, just as soon as we get this brood going. Are you ready for this?”
“Yes, I’m ready,” I said, chuckling.
“Duel can’t stop asking where you are.”
“Uncle Brax,” I heard Duel say in the background.
“Yes, it’s Uncle Brax.”
“Is he going with us to the uh-kware-mum-mum?”
He mangled the last word, but my heart turned over. I loved the little guy.
“Yes, he’s going. See you in a bit,” Boone said and hung up.
I pushed out of bed and the urge to call River just to hear her voice hammered on me while I turned on the shower. I set my cell down on the back of the toilet and it rang.
“Brax. It’s me.”
“Sugar,” I sighed into the phone.
“I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Me, too.”
“How pathetic are we?” She laughed, and my heart turned over for the second time that day.
“I’d show you how pathetic I am if you were here.”
“I bet you would.”
“I’ve got to go. Boone and the gang are going to be here in like fifteen. We’re going to the aquarium today. I’m going to show them the café.”
“That sounds exciting. I wish I was there.”
“You are. Your hand is in every part of the place. We built it together. You trusted me with your family’s business, and now were reaping the benefits.”
“Has Jake agreed to manage the one in Lafayette yet?”
“Not yet, but I’ll wear him down. I’m going to get him to manage the whole thing, which will leave me free for the show and Outlaws.”
“That sounds like a grand plan. I’d better let you go. I love you.”
I got in the shower, thinking my life was pretty darned perfect…except for this dilemma about the proposal. Hopefully, I could get this out of my system and just get on with my life with River. The alternative was just too cataclysmic to even consider.
We piled into Verity’s van, and she dropped us off at the aquarium on Canal Street. Verity and Aubree were doing some baby shopping. After a wave and baby kisses, they drove off.
“Henry, stay close,” Boone said as he took Duel’s hand and we went through the doors. Each of us had some form of contusion from yesterday. Boone had a cut lip, and Booker had a bruised cheekbone. My jaw ached a bit, with a faint bruise. And all three of us had singed ears courtesy of Aubree and Verity once they realized what we’d been up to. I almost looked forward to River’s harangue when she got home.
“I think we’re getting too old for drunk boxing,” Booker said. “As soon as you get over this thing with River, how about we start a new tradition?” He smirked. “How about we discuss things over Brax’s chocolate chip cookies and milk?”
“Just getting drunk?” Boone suggested.
I laughed. “Both of those sound good to me. How about we play it by ear? I’ll use the bag instead of your faces to work through my frustrations.”
We stopped and stared at each other. Okay, this was a major freaking milestone. Booker extended his hand, Boone covered his, and I put mine on top. “Break,” Booker said, and we hooted. People looked our way, but we just grinned at each other.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t kick your asses if I need to,” Booker said.
Boone just grinned and gave him a high five while I shook my head. “So much for maturity.”
“It’s overrated,” Booker said, and we laughed like fools.
We went to the second floor first, because they were feeding the sea otters. Duel squealed with delight when he saw them, and Henry’s eyes lit up. They were as intrigued with the frog exhibit, Living in Water, and the seahorses, Henry looking skeptical that the males were the ones to give birth. We had to hold tight to them when we went through the Amazon Rain Forest. They had piranhas and startling-colored dart frogs. Duel was fascinated with the snakes, but Henry wasn’t a big fan.
We were able to get back to the penguins so the boys could meet one and pet it. Henry was thrilled, and Duel was both interested and curious. The bird squawked a lot, but that only made them laugh.
We went downstairs for the Caribbean Reef and the last exhibit, the four hundred-thousand-gallon saltwater tank packed with sharks, schools of fish, sting rays, and sea turtles, including an endangered green one.
“I want to see the turtle close up, Uncle Braxton,” Henry said.
“We can’t. He’s swimming around, and this is where we’re allowed to watch him. It’s not like the penguins.”
“But I want to see him,” his tone was mutinous.
“I get it, but it’s not possible.” We were getting close to the end of the day, so we walked into the gift shop to get them something. I picked up a stuffed sea turtle for Henry, then pulled my phone out, but there was no call from River. I looked up and realized Henry was gone. Booker was talking to a saleslady, and Boone was dealing with Duel, who was getting fussy.
I raced out of the gift shop and looked up and down the hall, my gut clenching. Where the hell did Henry go? If anything happened to that kid…
Then I remembered how he wanted to get closer to the sea turtle and the fear in me grew to panic proportions, shredding my gut.
I took off at a run for the Gulf exhibit and frantically searched the crowd around the glass. No Henry. Then I saw the door that led to the back was ajar. My heart climbed up into my throat, and I pushed open the door and went inside.
“Hey, you can’t be back here,” a guy carrying buckets said.
“I’m looking for my nephew. About this tall. Blond hair, blue eyes. He wanted to see the sea turtle.”
“Oh, damn. You can access the back of the exhibit through that door. We better go check.”
“Thanks.”
We went through the door and down a hall and came to the back of the exhibit. There was a metal footbridge the keepers must use to feed the sharks. I searched and then saw him at the far end. He was on his stomach, hanging off the edge of the platform.
“Henry!”
His head jerked up, and he lost his balance and fell off the ledge with a cry. I hit the footbridge at a run and, ignoring the shouted warning of the guy behind me, dove off into the water.
It was warm, the salt water stinging my eyes while I searched for Henry’s small body. Finally, I spotted him far below me, struggling to swim to the top. A shadow moved above me and I looked up to see a shark bigger than me swim past.
The guy was still on the footbridge, peering into the water, but I ignored him and looked back down. Pushing myself with all my might against buoyancy, I kicked my feet and went after Henry’s tiny body.
I reached Henry in seconds and grabbed him around the waist
. His eyes were wide with panic, and he wrapped his arms around me so tight he hurt my throat. Kicking hard, I raced for the surface.
In the distance a huge sand shark swam lazily toward us, and I tried to outdistance him, but he was faster. Losing air, still too far from the surface, I turned to protect Henry from any kind of attack. I was ready for the bastard. Growing up in the bayou, I’d had to fend off more than one gator. A hard knock against the snout should do the trick.
But before I could react to the shark attack, the five-foot, majestic, great sea turtle, its flippers pumping through the water, swam between us and the shark, distracting the beast, so it swam off in a different direction.
It was as if time stopped while we hung suspended in the water. The turtle’s ancient gaze turned toward us, and I felt a jolt. As if the animal had deliberately come between us. I don’t know if it was my lack of air or if it was real, but it seemed as if he was saying. “You’re safe now. Get the boy out.”
Then he swam away and I powered to the surface. The guy was ready for us, lying prone across the footbridge, and I handed Henry up to him. He was choking and coughing, but that meant he was getting air and he was alive. I went limp with relief. As soon as Henry was secured on the platform, the guy reached down and hauled me out of the water, grabbing the back of my jeans when my torso hit the ledge to pull me the rest of the way.
We lay there for a minute, coughing and sputtering. Then, I came to my knees and grabbed Henry and hugged him hard. “Dammit, huckleberry. You scared the crap out of me!”
“I’m sorry,” Henry said in a small voice. “I just wanted to see the sea turtle.”
I pulled back to look in his eyes. “Something bad could have happened to you.”
He started crying, and I just hugged him harder. He’d seen that goddamned sea turtle, all right. It saved us.
“He’s a kid,” the guy said, “and no harm done.” He helped me up and led me and Henry off the footbridge and back out to the exhibit.
Everyone turned to look at us and then started clapping. Boone and Booker were also standing there. I met Boone’s gaze, and he didn’t have to say a word. We had the whole conversation in that one look.
I nodded, still clutching Henry.
When we left the aquarium, Verity took one look at us and said, “Oh, my God. What happened! Why are Brax and Henry wet?”
Boone started to move toward her with soothing tones. “Verity, Henry sort of fell in the tank.”
“What?”
Aubree shook her head. “I swear. The three of you cannot do anything without causing a ruckus.”
Verity calmed down after she pulled Henry into her arms, scolded him, hugged him, and then scolded him some more.
He would probably tell that story his whole life, and from what he was saying, I decided that boy would end up being the next Jacques Cousteau.
As we piled into the van. Verity, stopped me with a hand to my shoulder, turning me. She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight. Then she kissed me softly on the cheek. “Thank you.” She took a breath. “What Aubree said is so true. The three of you are so amazing that wherever you go there’s chaos. I am so in love with the three of you. The best day of my life was becoming a member of this family. I love you, Braxton.” She turned to look at Aubree, so round with the new additions to her family, then Booker. “You, too, Booker. Aubree, you know how I feel about you.”
“Group hug,” Boone shouted, and all of us just latched on and held tight.
Later, after the oohs and ahhs over The Huckleberry Café were out of the way, as well as the laughter over the name, I bought myself some dry clothes and proceeded to cook the best meal they ever had, the maiden voyage for the kitchen, since the grand opening would be next week.
We drove home in silence. And I couldn’t help thinking about when my daddy saved me from a gator and drowning one summer when I ventured too close to the edge. I was fuzzy on the details, so my memory was mostly about strong arms and an angry voice filled with the same kind of terror I experienced today.
Something shifted inside me. Something to do with my daddy and the crap we’d had to endure our whole life lay heavy on me. That was until River Pearl had taken a dark secret and broken it wide open.
She’d freed us two years ago, but…my heart twisted…I hadn’t really embraced it. In spite of my success and the acceptance of the townspeople, that feeling of not being good enough had stuck with me.
It wasn’t the ring that hadn’t been right. I couldn’t find the right one, because I was still mired in the past.
Let it go, Braxton. It was as if a male voice spoke to me, the experience as eerie as the sea turtle rescue had been today. I like to think it was my daddy talking to me from the grave, the man who would be here today if Earl hadn’t murdered him. My daddy had been as tried and true, and as steadfast, as I wanted to be for River Pearl. She might be the princess of Suttontowne, but I was her knight, and I’d rescued her from the freaking dragon.
And, damn, if that sweet little angel hadn’t turned around and rescued us, too.
There was nothing I wanted more than to marry her. I wanted that tie like I’d never wanted anything ever before.
She was my anchor. She grounded me, believed in me, and let me soar. Together we would be unstoppable.
When they dropped me off, I headed into the garage. It was late, but now I had the notion in my head, I wouldn’t be able to rest till I made it happen. I mounted the chocolate and cream Harley, grabbed the helmet on the seat, and settled it on my head. I hit the ignition while I rocked the machine off the kickstand, a wild feeling ready to burst free.
With the Harley rumbling between my legs, I used my feet to push the bike out of the garage, closed the door behind me, and roared off into a night full of stars.
It was just after ten when I roared through Petite Libellule, my ma’s hometown, also where my cousin Creed lived.
I navigated out of town and turned off on a well-maintained dirt road, leaning into the curves and taking it slow, since my headlight was the only illumination.
I came to a small house next to a workshop, scraps of metal everywhere, and amazing metal pieces nestled in the trees. As I pulled up to the front door, it opened and a dark-haired man silhouetted in the doorway.
“Brax?” he said, his voice tinged with a spicy Cajun accent. “Is that you?”
“It’s me,” I said.
“Thought I recognized that hog. Well, hell. C’mon in.”
I set the kickstand with my heel, took off the helmet, and clipped it to the back of the seat. Stuffing the keys in my jeans pocket, I went up the porch steps and inside.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is fine.”
“What brings you way out here tonight? Not that I mind the visit. It’s always good to see you.” My cousin Creed was a metal worker, and he had the imagination and skill to create just about anything out of metal. He was the youngest of my Cajun cousins, as wild and unpredictable as the bayou. I admired how he did his own thing and made it work. He was taller than me, had the same crystal blue eyes and shaggy black hair, but he wore it longer, shoulder-length. He had it tied back into a lose ponytail at the back of his neck. That’s about where the resemblance ended. I took heavily after my dad, the Outlaw side, but Creed’s features took after his French pirate ancestors, with an exotic cast to his eyes and high cheekbones. He looked like he was ready to hoist the Jolley Roger and go pillaging.
“I need you to do something for me, fast.”
“Sure,” he said closing the door behind him.
We went into his neat and cozy house. A nice living room with an overstuffed couch, a TV, and impressive electronics filled one wall. The old brick fireplace sported a screen that depicted an oak tree in the center, with two oak trees on either side, with branches arching over it. There were horse heads made out of scrap copper on the wall, a cool spider out of jointed metal, a silver frog with ceramic eyes. I knew my cousin could
create what was in my head.
He sat at the handcrafted table he had built and settled back in his seat. “What do you have on your mind?”
“Do you have a piece of paper?” I asked.
He leaned back and snagged a pad off the cabinet behind him, along with a pencil.
I sketched. I wasn’t that good with pictures, but I thought my crude drawing would give him an idea of what I wanted.
I handed it to him and he studied it for a moment. “You want me to make a ring?” Then he blinked and looked at me. “An engagement ring. Coo, you’re finally going to propose to the lovely Miss Sutton. My heart is broken.”
“Yeah, something else will be broken if you even think of trying anything.”
“No, cuz, she’s only got the eyes for you, ai-je raison?”
“You’re right. Can you do it?”
“Does a bullfrog sing for his lady love, cuz?”
“How about in four days?”
Creed flashed me a grin. “You don’t ask for much. For you and River, this is as good as done, and on time, too. It’s an inspired design, and I see the meaning in it. I’ll call tomorrow probably with the measurements for the diamonds. You can get them to me after I finish the setting, then I’ll fix them in, and we’ll be good to go. What size are you thinking for the main diamond?”
“I’m not going with a diamond,” I said, and he grinned.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, can you do this for me?” I took the paper back and drew.
He looked at my crude sketch and smiled. “Sure can. Wall hanging?”
“Yeah. It’s for a special kid who almost gave me a heart attack today, but saved my relationship with River.”
He put me up in his guest room, and I slept soundly that night. I had figured out what was holding me back, and I had conquered it.
I deserved her. Completely. There would be no more doubts about the Outlaw curse or whether I was good enough for her.
I was. She was mine, and that was the end…and the beginning…of the story.
In the morning I said goodbye to Creed and rode home. I decided to clean up, get to Outlaws, and find out what had been going on in my absence.
