"What about your dinner?" she asked, realizing it wasn't only a silly question, because eating was the last thing on Joe's mind, but because she'd just given him her answer.
"The fricassee'll be waitin' after we make love." Joe took her hand, but when he turned for the hallway, the brightness of a white vehicle flashed through the window and came to a halt out front. He drew in a ragged breath, and said, "I hope whoever this is doesn't take more than a couple minutes because, darlin', I'm about to bust wide open with need for you."
He dropped her hand, and when he opened the door, they were startled to find a police car parked out front and two officers walking toward the house.
"I know one of them," Joe said. "Bubba Moreau. He was even at Joey's christening." Addressing the officer, he said, "What's up, Bubba?"
"Nothing good, I'm afraid," Bubba replied. "I have papers for both you and Anne. We have to take the baby."
"What!" Joe tore open the envelope Bubba handed to him and silently read the words written in capital letters, TEMPORARY LETTERS OF CO-GUARDIANSHIP, followed by the words, State of Louisiana, Parish of Vermillion…
Then he read aloud in a voice tempered by pure, unadulterated rage, "By these letters of co-guardianship be informed that the Circuit Court, Vermillion Parish, State of Louisiana, appointed Charles B. Harrison and Helen M. Harrison as Temporary Co-guardians for Joseph Beausoleil Broussard, and that the named co-guardians have qualified and have the authority and duties of co-guardians for the named protected person as provided in the order appointing the co-guardians, a copy of which is attached…"
Joe flipped the page of the document and scanned the rest, singling out the words, The Respondent is a minor in need of a Guardian… And skipped down to, There is an immediate and serious danger to the Respondent's life or health and the Respondent's welfare requires immediate action… And further down, The mother suffers from dissociative fugue amnesia disorder which could occur and further endanger the Respondent…"
"I'm really sorry about this," Bubba said, "but I have no choice but to serve the papers and take the baby and turn him over to the Harrison's. Anne should come too. The Harrisons are expecting her."
Anne quickly perused her document, which was identical to Joe's except for names. Her document listed her as Anne Elizabeth Harrison, a.k.a. Julia Hanks. "They can't keep me there," she said. "I'll take Joey and leave."
"Be careful what you say in my presence," Bubba warned. "It could be held against you."
"Is that a threat?" Joe asked.
"No. It's a suggestion, but if either of you take Joey you'll be kidnapping."
"He's my son! They have no right to do this!" Anne cried in a frantic voice.
"Maybe not," Bubba said, "but that document gives them the legal right temporarily, and neither of you can go against them without going against the law. You and Joe need to see an attorney, but for now, I have to take the baby. I assume you'll be coming too," he said to Anne.
"It seems I have no choice." Anne felt incensed that the strangers she knew to be her parents would do this to her and Joe. To Joe, she realized. This was aimed at him with the intention of taking her and Joey away from him and keeping him out of their lives.
"You need to get the baby's things together and come with us now," Bubba reminded her, when she stood staring at nothing, lips pressed in anger and disbelief.
Too furious to speak, she turned and headed down the hallway, with Joe following. Once behind closed doors, tears of anger filled her eyes, and she said in a wavering voice, "I hate those people for what they're doing. I want my past with you back. If it wasn't for them I'd have gotten some memories by now, at least those of how it was with us in bed. I need those memories too. I feel like they're the key to everything with us, being with you like that."
Joe took her in his arms and buried his face in her hair, and as he held her, Anne felt loved and protected in a way she couldn't have imagined during those long dreary months in New Orleans. After she'd gained some control over the anger roiling inside, she looked at Joe, and said, "While I get Joey's things together you need to hold him and talk to him so he'll remember you the next time he sees you."
The muscles in Joe's jaws bunched and his mouth compressed, but he didn't say the words Anne knew were primed to come out, which told her a lot about him. A lesser man would have let loose with a string of cuss words and maybe slammed a fist into the door, or stormed out of the house and headed over to confront the people who'd wronged him, but Joe dealt with things in a different way. She had no idea what that way would be, and although it worried her, she had enough trust and faith in him now to ride out the storm ahead.
While she packed Joey's things, along with just enough clothes for herself for a few days, having decided she wanted reasons to return to this house often, Joe cradled Joey in his arms so he could look down at him, and what he said to his infant son curled around Anne's heart.
"Tee Joe, sometimes life deals us low blows and we're taken away from the ones we love, but you never give up hope, and you never stop fighting for what's yours and for what's right. I'm your daddy and I'll be here for you and your momma till the day I die." Then he lifted Joey in his arms and held him against his chest, cupping his head in the palm of his big bear paw, and tears filled his eyes.
Anne placed her hand on Joe's arm. "If Joey grows up to be half the man you are, he'll be a lucky man. And I'm a lucky woman to have the two of you, and that won't change." She kissed him and turned to continue getting their things together.
Standing on the porch a few minutes later, Anne took Joey from Joe's arms, kissed Joe and said, "I'll come back when I can, maybe cut across the cane field after Joey's asleep."
"I don't want you cuttin' across the cane field because you don't know who might be out there, but I'll tell you this much, darlin'. I love you and no one's goin' to take you and Joey from me."
Anne wondered how much more hell he'd have to go through because of her. An hour ago he walked into the house, with a big grin on his face, because he was happy to see her, and he sang in the shower because his life was good again, and she called him honey because that's what he was to her now, and he joked and said he'd go to the ends of the earth for her.
You're the only woman I'll ever love, and I'll take those words to my grave.
She truly believed him, and now she was being torn from him, from what was about to happen just before the police arrived. She wanted to be one with Joe again. She might not remember their past together, but it was buried deep inside her, and she knew exactly what they both needed now but wouldn't have because of two people she was coming to despise, people who, until now, had simply been a man and a woman who lived in a big antebellum plantation home on the other side of the cane field, who happened to be her parents.
After she fastened Joey in his car seat, Joe pulled her around to face him, and said to her, "Don't let them turn you against me, sugah. They'll try. But while you're gone, maybe you'll start to love me some too. I know it's inside you to love me again. You did once."
Anne sandwiched Joe's face between her palms, looked at him steadily, and said, "I still do love you, even though I don't remember all the reasons why."
The last image she had before the police car pulled away to take her to a place she dreaded, was of Joe standing on the porch, looking completely downcast, and all she wanted was to crawl into bed with him and into his arms, and make things right for him again.
CHAPTER 9
While standing on the porch and watching the tail lights of the police car disappearing into the night, Joe saw half his family funneling out of the big house and heading toward him. He was glad Momma and Mamere weren't among them because they'd taken the first-born child of the next generation into their hearts and this would be upsetting to them. But seeing Pépère coming was especially troubling because the patriarch of the family had a way of spouting off exactly what he thought, which wouldn't help resolve the situation.
When the
pack of Broussards arrived at the foot of the steps leading to his front porch, Joe's father was first to speak. "That was the police. What's the problem?"
Joe eyed the fading tail lights of the police car. "Anne and I were served papers. Y'all come on inside and I'll explain."
He hated to go into a lengthy explanation about something that would prove his family right about his involvement with a Harrison, any Harrison. The angst between the families went back so far most no longer considered the basis for it, only what was happening in the present: bush track races, fais do-dos and Cajun music on one side of the cane field; showy plantation home, highbrow teas, and bluebloods looking down their aristocratic noses at the coonasses next door on the other.
Once inside his house, Joe paced the floor while explaining the kind of situation he should have expected from the Harrisons, but didn't think they'd stoop so low to pull off. When he finished his spiel, Pépère, who'd been listening intently, thumped Joe on the side of the head with a stiff finger, and said, "C'est sa couillion. You shoulda thought of this before gettin' involved. Those Harrisons'll be runnin' your life."
Joe couldn't argue the part about the Harrisons running his life, or about being a couillion, a fool. He'd been a fool for Anne from the moment she came into his life, but he'd never regretted it. "Maybe the Harrisons will try to run our lives, but gettin' involved got me the only woman I want, and she gave me a son."
His father let out a grunt of exasperation. "The Harrisons are runnin' your life alright, and this is just the beginnin'. What are you gonna do about it?"
Joe picked up the petition. "Fight them to the bitter end for Anne and me to have our son, but I about exhausted my savings to buy this house, and what's left is slotted for fixin' up the place for Anne and Joey and buyin' furniture, but no one's goin' to take my son from me."
Ace took the petition from Joe, and scanning it, said in a morose voice, "You didn't just walk into a snake pit. You're in a pit of vipers. You'll lose Joey if they win this."
Joe eyed the papers in Ace's hands. "They won't win because they don't have a ground to stand on, but I need money to fight them so I'm backin' out of the deal with the filly."
"They may be standin' on shaky ground," his father said, "but they know people high up. Judges. Attorneys. They could cut a deal with any of them."
"What about Nonc Pierre?" Joe asked, referring to his uncle. "He's an attorney and he knows a couple of Cajun judges. That oughta help."
"Talk to him if you want but don't go countin' your chickens before they hatch," his father said. "Those Harrisons have the money to keep goin' until you run out."
Joe took the petition from Ace, feeling a twist in his gut as he looked at it again. Ace was right though. He had walked into a pit of vipers, and it would take all his money to fight them in order to hold onto his son.
***
At her parent's house, Anne found them waiting in the entry, where the sheriff physically turned the baby over to her mother, had her parents sign some papers, set their bags inside the doorway, and left. Anne scanned the faces of her parents, who were still like strangers, then said to her father, "You have no right taking Joey away from me."
Her mother, who was holding Joey, said in a conciliatory voice, "Honey, we're not taking him from you, it's only until you get your memory back. We're afraid you could go into another fugue and wander off with the baby. And you need ongoing medical care until your condition's resolved. We know you're not getting it."
"I just went to the doctor last week!" Anne cried. "And I don't want to be with anyone here, I want to be with Joe and his family. Things were going well there."
"You're not thinking straight right now," her father said. "You'll view things differently when everything's back to normal."
"Oh, I'm thinking straight all right," Anne fired back. "What I understand is you want to break up my relationship with Joe, and I don't care what you do, I'll go back to him because I love him and he's the man I plan to marry. You can't stop me from doing that, even though you've tried over the years."
Her mother placed her hand on her father's arm, as if to have her say before he could expand on Anne's comment. "We're not trying to stop you from anything, honey. Stay with us here for a while, get the medical care you need, and you'll be back with Joe before you know it."
"I want to be with him right now," Anne spat, "not here with any of you."
"Settle down," her father said. "What we're doing is looking after your best interest during a time when you're operating on emotions. We've set up an appointment with a doctor who's familiar with dissociative fugue and he'll be working with you to help restore your memory."
"You're not looking after my best interest. You're looking after the interest of a family that doesn't want a Cajun among them. And Joey and I don't need to live in this house for me to see a doctor. Joe can take me to appointments. If I had a car I could drive myself!" Her tone escalated with her fury and frustration.
"Take it easy," her father said. "You're angry now but you'll thank us for this later, and you'll only be with us a month or two."
"A month or two! I want to be with Joe now!" Anne was so outraged that these people would go to this length to take her away from Joe she could barely find the words to speak her mind, but when she did, she said in a voice filled with venom, "I don't believe for a moment that when my memory returns you'll willingly send me back to live with the coonasses next door!" She planted her mouth in an angry slash.
Her father drew in a long breath, and said in a contrite voice, "That's just an expression even Cajuns use when referring to themselves."
"Except you're not a Cajun and that wasn't the way you used it. Joe told me what you said about him when we were in the feed store back when I was in high school, when you referred to him not just as a coonass, but as a no-count coonass."
Her father seemed momentarily thrown by her comment, but after a few moments, he said, "As your parents we want what's best for you, and at the time we felt it was best for you to go to college, get a good education, and meet someone able to provide for a family."
"Joe's already providing for his family and he didn't need a college degree to do it!" Anne fired back. "He has land. He bought me a house, and he's fixing it up, and that's all I need to be happy, and if my choice of a husband is an embarrassment to you then that's your problem."
"Honey, you're not thinking long term," her mother said. "A small house is fine for a starter, but eventually you'll want more for your children. You'll understand better when the baby is older and you'll want what's best for him."
"His name is not the baby. It's Joseph Beausoleil Broussard," Anne said, shifting her gaze to her father, feeling a sense of sweet revenge that she'd stuck to naming Joey after a man Cajuns revered and her father disdained. "Joey's also a Catholic, baptized in the Catholic Church last Sunday."
She heard her father's sharp intake of breath followed by a long exhale, yet he said nothing. But she saw his fists curled at his sides.
After a stretch of strained silence, her mother said, "We have a crib set up in the spare bedroom for… Joey, and you'll be staying in your old room surrounded by all your things, and Jolie's in the stable, so you can ride her on the track tomorrow. Piper's been riding her some, but you're the one who can really make her go."
Anne's brows gathered as a memory surfaced. A black horse with white stockings, one back stocking higher than the others, a gait, smooth and rocking, and an image of moving at a fast clip around the cane field and seeing Joe standing in the distance. Then the image faded, leaving her with a tiny window into the past, a good memory, and the one word on her lips, "Jolie."
"Yes, honey. Jolie Go Girl, your Tennessee Walking Horse mare. You used to show her and you have a lot of ribbons and trophies. You and Daddy were very involved in showing her."
The word, Daddy, still didn't compute. Not wanting to get off on a tangent about Tennessee Walking Horses and lose track of what was really important
, she said, "Are you going to keep Joey from Joe?"
"Of course not," her mother replied. "He's welcome to visit with him here."
Anne glared at her mother. "Why here? Joe doesn't have a memory problem, and Joey's his son. He's already missed the first two months of Joey's life for no fault of his, and you're making him miss the next however many months you intend to keep me imprisoned here."
"You're not imprisoned," her father said. "You can leave any time you want, but until the doctor determines you're not in danger of going into a fugue state and wandering off, you're only allowed to take the baby if one of us is with you. We're doing what we must to protect the baby."
"Joey, his name is Joey," Anne reminded him again, "and Joe and his family are capable of taking care of him. They're Catholic. Born to breed. They know more about taking care of babies than either of you." Too angry to remain in the same room with these people who claimed to be acting in her best interest, she said, "I want to go to my room, and I want my son."
As her mother started up the stairs, Anne scanned a wide entry hall with a crystal chandelier hanging high above, and she glanced around, taking in a large living room furnished like something out of Southern Living Magazine, the kind of house her parents expected her to have someday when married to a man who could provide it, when all she wanted was her mud-splattered cowboy with his wide white grin, alligator jerky kisses, and sweet endearments. And she didn't want to live in a big, ostentatious house. She wanted to live in the unpretentious house Joe bought for her, and raise their kids in a family that laughed, and danced, and played music that had people hopping and skipping, people who welcomed her into their family.
With Joey in her arms, her mother carrying the bag Anne packed for herself and one for Joey, and her father carrying the infant bed in one hand and a bag with Joey's things in the other, the three of them trudged up a long, curved bank of stairs to an area that overlooked the huge entrance hall below. Anne followed her mother down a wide hallway and into a bedroom about the size of the living room in the house Joe bought for her. The bedroom was furnished with an antique bed with a high headboard and carved bed posts, a matching dresser with a marble top, an antique desk with a desk chair, a chaise lounge, and a side chair covered in similar white silk.
Tall Dark Stranger (Cajun Cowboys Book 1) Page 11
