Southern Secrets (The Southern Series Book 2)

by Shelley Stringer

  “Everett, these are magical! All right, you have me in the mood, now. It’s time to pick some other nursery stuff. This is a wonderful start, now we have a whole color scheme.” I hugged him as he beamed with the knowledge he’d pleased me with his purchases.

  We walked back through his shop arm-in-arm, and as I stopped to check out some of his new arrivals, my cell buzzed in my purse. Spilling the contents, I dug around and then dropped the purse on the floor as I found the phone and flipped it open. One message…I hit enter to retrieve it.

  Sweetheart, just had my first chance

  to send you a message. Should be able

  to Skype tonight,

  see you at nine…I love you, Banton.

  “Was that him?” Everett asked. I nodded, smiling.

  “Well, what did he say?” he asked impatiently.

  “He said he’d call me tonight.” I looked back up at him with tears in my eyes.

  “Bebe, you’re going to have to get used to this, you know.” He patted me on the shoulder.

  “I know I’m being childish. He’s a SEAL, and I knew that when I married him. It’s just so soon. I thought we’d have more time,” I sighed and flipped my cell shut, gazing at it as if he would appear out of it.

  “Well, maybe you’ll sleep better tonight after you talk with him.” He gave me a sideways glance as he rearranged some pillows on one of the overstuffed sofas near the front window.

  “What do you mean? I haven’t had one bad dream since he left!” I exclaimed.

  “No, you haven’t. But I can see how much you toss and turn. That’s not good for you, either. I don’t think you’re getting into a deep enough sleep to do any dreaming, good or bad.”

  “Okay, I concede. Maybe I’ll sleep better tonight if we get a little exercise before bedtime. Take a walk with me down to the old cemetery. I want to look at some headstones I found a while back, so I can do a little research.”

  “Ooo, Sounds fun. Lets!” Everett’s eyes sparkled. He was so much fun to spend time with. I leaned in to kiss his cheek.

  “Well, I’m off. I’m cooking dinner tonight, and Constance is supposed to come back this afternoon. Brie is at her parents, so it will just be the three of us.”

  “I’ll see you tonight, Bebe.” He kissed me on the other cheek and then I left the shop.

  My mood lifted even higher as I drove home. Banton would call tonight at nine, and I’d get to see his face. I couldn’t help myself. I began to smile and sing with the radio. As I turned the corner on Rue Dauphine, I spotted Claudia’s car in front of the house. I pulled in the drive as Claudia and Ava Grace hurried out the front door to meet me.

  “Claudia, how are you! I didn’t know you were coming!” I hugged her warmly as Ava danced around us.

  “Oh, Chandler, I just had to come to see you. I can’t imagine how you must feel, with Banton leaving so soon after your wedding. I just wanted to spend some time with you.” She pulled me back to look at me, smiling warmly.

  “How did you get into the house?” I asked.

  “Someone named Grant was here with Mr. Philippe, they let me in. Mr. Philippe left to go back to the shop, but Grant is still here. He’s working on a laptop in the dining room. Who is he, Chandler?”

  “That’s a conversation we’ll have in a little while, but to make a long story short, he’s sort of a body guard for us till Banton and the others get back. He, or Mr. Philippe, or Everett is always here,” I answered. She gave me a sideways glance.

  “An Andler, An Andler, pick me up!” Ava begged.

  “No, Sweetie, Aunt Chandler can’t pick you up, remember? She’s going to have a baby and we have to be careful.”

  “Oh, it’s all right now, Claudia. The doctor gave me a clean bill of health this morning. Come here, doodle-bug! I’ve missed you!” I exclaimed, swinging her around.

  “Have you heard from Banton yet?” Claudia inquired as we climbed the stairs to the house.

  “He just texted and said he would call tonight on the webcam. We have a date for nine o’clock.”

  “Good. I was beginning to worry,” she answered with a sigh as we shut the front door.

  “Look at you! You’ve already got a baby-bump! It must be because you’re so slender,” she commented, taking in my profile.

  “Well, that, and…” I was wondering if I should tell her. Banton and I might never get the chance to make our big announcement with everyone together.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Have a seat for this one, Claudia,” I directed. She sat down on the sofa, waiting until I sat across from her. Ava Grace crawled up into my lap.

  “Not just one baby…twins. We’re having twins!” I exclaimed as I kissed Ava’s cheek.

  “What? Oh, Chandler…that’s marvelous! Have you told Mama and Daddy yet?”

  “No, we’ve been waiting until Banton was here with me, to tell your family and mine together,” I sighed. “But I don’t know when that will happen.”

  “Who else knows you’re having twins?” Her eyes sparkled.

  “Everett, Constance, Laurilee, and now you. I haven’t even had the chance to tell Aunt Sue and Uncle Lon I’m pregnant. Banton wanted to before he left, but there just wasn’t time. So I’m going to tell them next weekend, Constance and I are going to Denham Springs for her birthday.”

  “And how long have you known you’re having twins?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Remember the day I went to the doctor, and then met you and Brie at Mr. Philippe’s for the dress fittings? I’d just been to the doctor and they told me then, after they ran the sonogram. I had to wait until just the right moment to tell Banton, so I told him Christmas Day at the engagement party. He was so blown away and was precious about it.”

  “I can just imagine. I cannot believe both of you have known all this time, and didn’t tell me! I could just pinch you!” She glared at me, and then laughed.

  “What’s tvvwinns?” Ava Grace asked innocently as Claudia continued to laugh.

  I smiled lovingly at her as I looked down into her inquisitive face. “It means two babies, Ava. Aunt Chandler has two babies in her tummy.”

  She bent to kiss my tummy, and then laid her head in my lap. “My babies. Aba’s babies. I pway wif my babies!” she sang out as she rolled around in my lap.

  “She is obsessed with babies. We have no less than twenty dolls, and she insisted we bring them all with us. They have their own suitcase!” she explained as we laughed. Ava rolled off the couch, and then tripped up the staircase.

  “There she goes. She’ll have them all down here before dinner.”

  “Speaking of, I guess I’d better go start cooking. Constance is coming back this afternoon and Everett will be here in a little bit.”

  “Let me help you,” Claudia offered as we got up and walked arm-in-arm down the hallway.

  We spent the afternoon talking and cooking, watching Ava play with her dolls and toy dishes she’d brought with her. We fixed her a little spot in the corner of the kitchen and as always, she played quietly beside us.

  “So, why do we need a bodyguard at the house?” Claudia asked as I grated cheese for the top of the casserole I’d just finished. I popped it into the oven, and shut the door as I turned to her.

  “All of the SEALs were targeted simultaneously. We were attacked on the ski slopes, then again at the cabin. That’s why we came home early.”

  “And that’s why they were called back to base and sent on this sudden mission,” she finished for me

  “Yes. And Banton’s afraid they might come after me or Brie, or Constance…”

  “Why? Who’s they?” Claudia asked, visibly shaken.

  “An underground of terrorists. Tied in with the Somali pirates. The same ones who took me hostage,” I replied slowly.

  “And they have Orcos helping them,” she added.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, now I’ll ask a stupid question. How is Everett or Mr. Philippe going to protect all of us
from that?”

  “Claudia, you don’t want to know. Just trust me, and trust them, all right?” I pleaded.

  “It doesn’t make sense. There is no way…”

  “Please, Claudia. We are safer with one of them. I promise.”

  She looked at me, exasperated, but said nothing more on the subject. Ava Grace had fallen asleep with her little head on the table, and Claudia picked her up to carry her upstairs for a nap.

  “Mmm, Darlin’, what’s for supper? It smells delish.” Everett waltzed down the hallway, and tossed his jacket on a chair in the corner.

  “Crawfish and shrimp fettuccini casserole…Mrs. Elaine’s recipe. I’m craving anything and everything.”

  “Good. I’ve been worrying about your little appetite. Are you eating enough protein, though?”

  “Yes, Mother. I ate a leftover steak this afternoon. I have steak, or liver, or something high in protein, at least once a day.”

  “Good. Now, let’s take our little walk,” he urged as he kissed my cheek. I washed my hands in the sink and then dried them on my apron.

  “That looks ancient,” he commented, regarding the starched flour-sack hand-me-down I wore around my waist.

  “It was Maw Maw Irene’s. It was my mother’s favorite, and she used it often. I feel closest to them both when I’m cooking. They used to pull a little step-stool up to the cabinet to let me stir everything.” I smiled fondly at the memory.

  “You have some precious memories of your childhood, Chandler. You’re a lucky young lady.”

  I removed the garment and gently folded it and placed it on the cabinet.

  “I’m beginning to realize that.” I gazed at him through misty eyes. “All right, let’s go get some fresh air and exercise. Just let me grab a jacket and my camera.”

  We walked down the sidewalk, pausing at Mr. Jackson’s driveway. He was sitting on his little balcony as usual, enjoying what was left of the afternoon sun. It was a little chilly here in January, but nothing resembling the cold winters in North Texas. Mr. Jackson sat with his chair tipped back against the wall of his apartment with his eyes shut, enjoying the warmth on his face.

  “Mr. Jackson, how are you today?” I called up to him.

  “Oh, Mrs. Chandler. I didn’t hear you a-commin’ up. I’s right good fo an ol’ man, I guess.”

  “We haven’t seen you out for your walks in a couple of days,” I commented as I shielded my eyes from the setting sun.

  “I’s been a little under de weather, dat’s all. I’s a sight better, now.”

  “Do you feel well enough to come down to eat with us? Claudia and Ava Grace arrived this afternoon, and I know Ava would love to see you. I want to visit with you some more on the other things, too.”

  “Dat sounds fine. What time would you likes me to come?” he asked, placing the chair down on all four legs.

  “In about an hour. I should have everything ready by then.”

  “Okay, I’ll see y’all den. Oh, and you be careful a-going dat away,” he cautioned, pointing to the old cemetery.

  “We will, Mr. Jackson. I’ll watch out for her,” Everett assured him, guiding me down the sidewalk.

  As we walked on past, Mr. Jackson tipped his chair and leaned his head back, closing his eyes and tipping his hat downward on his face. I paused and raised my camera to zoom in on him, discretely snapping his picture.

  “You have an eye, Bebe. That photo will be so full of character and will tell a good story,” Everett noted as I closed the lens back on the camera.

  Nearing the entrance to the cemetery, I sensed we weren’t alone. We pushed back through the undergrowth to the gates. Appearing to have been closed for some time, they made a loud rusty squeak and clanking sound as Everett opened them. A hazy form appeared in front of us, a sort of transparent reflection. As we walked closer, it began to take shape, and then form colors, just as the apparition I’d seen in my living room a few days before.

  “Everett, do you see it?” I whispered.

  “Yes, Bebe, I do.” He glanced at me, and then back at the apparition. In front of us stood the same young man, dressed in a Confederate gray uniform. He gazed at us for several seconds, looking straight through us. I raised my camera methodically, removed the lens cap, and then slowly snapped several pictures. As I continued to click the camera he turned, and drifted the same direction we’d been going. As we approached the large statue of the angel, he hovered there, and then disappeared.

  “He’s here. The soldier,” Everett whispered as I glanced sideways at him.

  “Who?” I asked, puzzled.

  “He’s a local legend. This is the first time I’ve seen him. Residents have been spotting him for years on this road, and on the one behind the cemetery with the covered bridge on it. They see him walking along, sometimes appearing to be wounded, and other times beckoning folks to follow him. One night a couple of years ago, he was so vivid several residents reported to the police they’d seen a wounded, bleeding man wandering about. The police investigated but they found nothing. It made the papers.

  “Oh.” Chills ran up my arms.

  “Have you ever seen him before?” Everett asked as we stopped in front of the marble angel.

  “Yes, actually. In my living room, the day before Banton left,” I whispered.

  “Oh, gracious. That’s…” he paused, and shivered. I found it a bit ironic a ghost story would upset an Aldon.

  “Well, he seems to be gone now,” I commented, and then knelt to examine the three graves in front of us. They had been covered with large stone covers to keep the coffins from rising. The first headstone was sort of hard to make out, the inscription Our Beloved, Marie Claire Johnson DeLee 1842 – 1863. I snapped several pictures of the entire plot, and of just her headstone. Then I moved to the smaller two, each engraved with a simple “Baby Girl DeLee, 1863.”

  I gazed at the headstones for several moments, feeling sad and dark. I turned to find Everett standing several feet behind me, with the strangest far-away expression on his face. He looked almost sickly.

  “Ev, are you okay? What’s wrong?” I asked as I approached him.

  He began to back away, and then turned, answering. “I’m fine, it’s getting late. Let’s get you home, Bebe.”

  I hurried to catch up with him, just as the sun set behind us. It was getting chilly as we returned to the house. I was just about to question him again about his strange behavior when I spotted Constance in the yard.

  “Hey, you’re back. I’m so glad.” I rushed to embrace her.

  “Any news about the boys?” she asked anxiously.

  “Banton texted today. He’s going to call tonight at nine. I can’t wait.”

  “Ty finally texted me. He said he’s fine and he misses me. That’s all it said,” she said wistfully as she hugged me again.

  “That’s great news. It’s a start.” I encouraged her.

  Everett put his arm around her waist.

  “Everything is going to be fine, Sugar. I just know it. Besides, you’re too scary a woman to upset, so he’s just bound to come around for his own safety!” He teased her as we entered the house.

  Chapter Twelve

  “An Stance, wook! I hab new babies!” Ava Grace exclaimed, dancing into the front hallway with two dolls under her arms. Constance knelt down to sweep her up into her arms.

  “I’ve missed you, Doodle-bug! How are you?” She hugged Ava to her and carried her into the living room where Claudia was seated. They visited while Everett followed me down the hallway to the kitchen.

  “Bebe, have you ever done that research on your house to find the original owners who built it?” Everett asked in a nonchalant manner.

  I paused as I pulled a salad from the fridge. “No, I’ve never seemed to find the time to get around to it. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, just our little outing, and your little research project with the headstones. It just got me to thinking about your curiosity, and you’d mentioned wanting to research the
house a while back…” His voice trailed off as he shrugged. Retrieving two potholders from the cabinet, he then bent to pull the casserole from the oven just as the buzzer began to sound.

  “It would probably be a great idea to take my mind off my troubles, help pass the time,” I replied, studying him. There was something off about his mood, his mannerisms, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. We busied ourselves with setting the table and carrying the food to the dining room. Mr. Jackson arrived right on time.

  “Miser Jackson, wook! I hab new babies!” Ava Grace exclaimed upon noticing Mr. Jackson seated at the table. She ran to greet him, placing the dolls in his lap.

  “Well, now, Miss Ava, what is you a’callin des here youngins? Do dey have names?” Mr. Jackson played along with her, engaging her in a conversation on her level.

  “Yes, Aba and Andler.” She grinned up at him and then retrieved the dolls, and bounded back out of the room.

  Claudia commented as she entered the room, “All the dolls have family names, and it is quite confusing. We also have three Princess Jasmines, so be sure and get those straight.”

  “She sho has an imagination, dat chile does. My momma used to say dat a chile wid an imagination was a smart chile, indeed.” As Ava ran back into the room, he gathered her up in his arms and sat her down on his lap.

  I slipped out into the living room, and grabbed my camera. Standing in the fading light of the entry hall, I began to snap pictures of the little girl and the wise old man. He held his fingers up for her to study as he helped her count to ten. She methodically placed her hand against the back of his hand, and turned to look up into his eyes.

  “Wook at your hand, Miser Jackson. Wook.” She held both their hands up in comparison. I assumed she was asking him about the difference in skin color. To my amazement, she chirped, “You hand is big wike my daddy’s. Aba’s hand is wittle.” She grinned up at him. I took the camera away from my face to gaze at them, and Claudia’s teary gaze caught mine from across the room.