by June Faver
“Good doggy.” She delivered brisk swats on Smokey’s head, but he seemed to like it and jumped up to put his paws on Derrick’s thigh.
“What’s all this?” Angelique came into the room and stopped, taking in the scene with raised brows.
“Um, well, your daughter is making friends with Smokey. I’m dog-sitting him for an elderly couple who had to go to the hospital in Amarillo.”
Angelique smiled. “That’s good. We never had a pet, so I’m glad she’s learning about animals.”
Derrick chuckled. “Just wait until tomorrow. I’ll introduce her to Freddie, my longhorn bull.”
“A longhorn bull? Is that different from any other bull?”
“A whole different breed. I have a small herd of longhorns that are really pets.”
Angelique shook her head. “Pet bulls? Texas sure is a different place than I’m used to.”
“Well, I only have a small herd. Your dad has huge herds of several different breeds. He couldn’t possibly get to know his cattle the way I know mine.” He shrugged. “My longhorns are not for sale.”
“I think that’s the way Big Jim feels about his horses.” She sat on the sofa next to the recliner and reached to pet Smokey. “Nice doggy.”
Gabrielle slipped off Derrick’s lap to squat down by Smokey. She put her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead against the dog’s head, crooning a little song to her new furry friend.
Derrick took a moment to soak up the scene. He was still irked at Tyler for questioning his feelings for Angelique, and even more so for his inferences that he might not be seriously interested in her because of Gabrielle. Spending the afternoon and evening with Angelique and her daughter was turning out to be most enjoyable.
Angelique had prepared their evening meal, and when he offered to help, she had shooed him away, but allowed him to entertain her daughter. It was as though they were auditioning each other. How would he feel if things heated up between them? Would they be able to form a viable unit…a family?
He took a deep breath and stood up, bringing Gabrielle with him to take a seat beside Angelique on the sofa. Gabrielle immediately got down and returned to give Smokey her full attention.
He put an arm around Angelique’s shoulders. Brushing the hair away from the side of her face, he pressed a kiss against the side of her neck. He noticed her earrings. They probably weren’t real, but they looked like a faceted oval diamond surrounded by a circle of smaller diamonds.
Derrick touched an earring. “Pretty.”
She smiled. “They were my mother’s. She passed away not too long ago.” Angelique swallowed hard, signaling that the emotion was still raw. “She gave me her jewelry and some other things just before she—she died. And she told me who my father was and how I could find him.”
He pulled her closer. “I’m sure glad you found him.” He kissed her temple. “I’m sure glad I found you.”
Angelique heaved a sigh and snuggled against his shoulder.
Man with his arm around his woman and dog lolling against his leg receiving attention from small child. Yeah, this was feeling good.
* * *
Fern Davis was up early. She had mixed up a batch of her oatmeal pecan cookies while the coffee was brewing, and now two sheet pans of cookies were in Big Jim’s refrigerator to chill. Fern took off her apron and hung it over a ladder-back chair. She poured herself a cup of coffee and took it to gaze out the back door that led to the covered porch. There were glass panes inset, but she could see very little. It was still dark, but she had not been able to stay in bed any longer. She planned to have plenty of cookies and sweet treats for everyone in the Garrett family, which she considered to be her family now. Fortunately, her only granddaughter, Leah, had married Tyler, the one she considered to be the pick of the Garrett litter.
Fern would always adore the man. Tyler could do no wrong in her book.
Somehow, making cookies didn’t seem nearly enough.
“That coffee sure does smell good.” Big Jim reached for a cup and helped himself.
“Hope I didn’t wake you,” Fern said, turning from her reverie. “I was tryin’ to be real quiet.”
“Oh, no, Miz Fern. This is my usual get-up time.” Big Jim took a sip of the hot liquid. “I got horses expecting me to feed ’em and scoop up their poop.”
Fern laughed. “Sounds like chilrens.”
“Might as well be.” He saluted her with his cup. “Good coffee.”
“I seen some bananas on the counter. You got plans for ’em?”
Big Jim shook his head. “They’re all yours.”
“Great. I’m a-gonna make us some banana bread that’ll make yore toes turn up.”
“Anything you want to use, just go on ahead, Miz Fern. If you need anything else, I’ll be happy to take you into Langston for shopping.”
Fern’s face crinkled up in a grin. “Aww, thanks, Big Jim. I’m purty shore I got all the makin’s I need. But if I think o’ anythin’ I’ll letcha know.”
Big Jim drained his cup and set it in the sink. “I’ll be back in a while. The kitchen is all yours.”
Fern was still grinning long after he had gone. She took a few of the bananas and put them in the middle of the counter. Sure enough, Big Jim had brown sugar and regular sugar and flour. She had brought her own special concoction of spices, just in case, but Big Jim’s kitchen seemed to be pretty well stocked.
She glanced out the back again, and the sky seemed to be lightening up a bit. Humming a few bars of one of her favorite hymns, she tied her apron back around her waist and removed a glass loaf pan from under the counter.
In no time at all, she had mashed up some bananas and had a loaf of her spicy banana bread in the oven. By the time Big Jim returned from his adventures in the stable, the aroma of freshly baked banana bread greeted him.
“Hot damn! I’m gonna take me a quick shower and come back for a slice of that delicious-smelling stuff.”
“Take yore time, big fella. It cuts better when it cools off a little.” She had already cleaned up after herself and was checking out another recipe.
* * *
Alphonse Benoit lay awake in his king-size bed. The sky was just beginning to lighten in the east. His bed coverings were heavy but warm.
For days, the sky had been gray and leaden, like a bulging underbelly ready to burst open, but the rain wouldn’t come. Even the air felt heavy. Cold blasts of air coming off the water caused the windows to rattle.
His household was still abed. Only the live-in couple who worked for him were allowed to stay in his realm. The man cooked and shopped for the master and his guests, while the woman kept the place clean. Both were full-time jobs, considering the size of the estate. There were assorted groundskeepers who mowed and trimmed the lush yard, but they came and went on schedule.
Alphonse finally threw back his covers and searched for his house shoes with his bare feet. When he stood, he scratched himself and ambled to the bathroom where he relieved himself. The noise was amplified by all the hard surfaces in his bathroom. Highly polished marble walls, floors, and fixtures rebounded sounds and bounced them around. He sighed, shook it off, and lumbered over to the vanity to wash his hands in one of the sinks. No, he didn’t flush. The maid would do that. He glanced at his face, dark with stubble. He would have to shave, but maybe not today. He didn’t want to see anyone.
He wanted Remy back. He missed his rebellious only son who had refused to be involved in any of his father’s businesses.
He wanted Sofie back. He ached for his beautiful lover. The woman who dared to boss him around…to refuse him…to amuse him.
And he wanted his only granddaughter back. No matter how much he wanted the other two, Gabrielle was alive and had been stolen from him. He would have her back.
He threw the hand towel on the floor and stomped back to the
bedroom.
How could it be that Angelique Guillory had so completely disappeared? She was certainly not all that smart. Beautiful, yes. She looked so much like his beloved Sofie, except for those strange, almost turquoise-blue eyes, a trait shared by his Gabrielle.
Now, Alphonse was depressed and frustrated. His men, who were usually quite competent to carry out his wishes, had utterly failed.
For some reason, they couldn’t get a handle on where Angelique might have gone. It was as though she had evaporated.
New Orleans had many ways to escape. There were highways and byways. There was an airport. There was the Gulf of Mexico leading out to the open Atlantic Ocean. There were many ports to the south. Could his son’s slut have taken Gabrielle to live in Mexico or South America or on any of the islands in between?
No! She didn’t have the wherewithal to travel extensively or to live elsewhere. She had to have holed up somewhere nearby. Perhaps with a friend.
Alphonse heaved a deep sigh. Idiots! He would have to come up with a new strategy of his own. He had wanted to have Gabrielle in his home by Christmastime. He wanted to spoil her like any grandfather. He wanted to shower her with presents and love.
* * *
Angelique awoke to the sound of her heart thudding in her ears. Her eyes opened, and she realized she was naked and held snugly against the warm sleeping body of the man she loved.
Derrick was breathing rhythmically, his well-muscled chest rising and falling as it should. He was slumbering while she was wrenched from the comfort of sleep by something that terrified her. But what? She swallowed, listening to the silence that pressed in on her from all directions.
Was it a dream?
Suddenly the image of Alphonse Benoit’s face, almost purple with anger, reappeared in her brain. She trembled and must have made a sound, because Derrick stirred and gathered her closer. The warmth of his flesh stilled her trembling, and yet she could still hear the threat in Alphonse’s voice. “If you take my Gabrielle, you will die. She will be an orphan with only her generous grandfather to care for her.” He had made a clucking sound. “Such a sad story…but Gabrielle is a very lucky girl.” And then he’d laughed.
Angelique had no idea of the time, but it was still dark outside. Try as she might, she was unable to return to sleep, mostly because she was on edge, but also because she was afraid she might again find Alphonse Benoit in her dreams.
She had to remember the reason she was here. She had to protect her daughter. That Gabrielle was now nestled in the bosom of the Garrett family was the most important issue. She figured that Big Jim would protect his granddaughter with all his considerable resources—but would that be enough to protect her from a New Orleans mob boss?
Angelique shivered again, her cheek against Derrick’s shoulder. Was it fair to expose the Garretts to the dangerous Alphonse Benoit’s heinous power?
Derrick kissed her hair. “Are you okay, baby?”
She nodded, her hair making a scrunching sound against his chest. “Just going to go to the bathroom.” She slipped out from under the covers and tiptoed from the room. She lingered in the bathroom because she had told Derrick that was where she was going, and she didn’t want to lie to him. Sins of omission were a different matter. She gazed at her face in the mirror, noting her even-paler-than-usual pallor. Her eyes looked haunted. “No! Get out of my head, you evil bastard,” she whispered.
Angelique splashed cold water on her face and mopped it off with one of Derrick’s big bath towels. She slipped into Derrick’s bathrobe and turned off the light before she crept to the other bedroom, where her daughter was bedded down. Gabrielle lay on her back, spread eagle, breathing in and out. Her dark lashes fanned out against her cheeks. Beautiful child. My child. Angelique sucked in a deep breath and blew it out forcefully. “And you can’t touch her, Alphonse.”
* * *
The temperature was dropping, and the sky was the color of gunmetal. Big Jim had saddled one of his favorite horses, Onyx, a black stallion that had sired several very handsome foals. Onyx had been obviously stir-crazy, stamping his hooves and tossing his magnificent head.
Big Jim felt a rush of pride knowing his horses were not only beautiful to look at but bred to perform. The blanket of snow covering the ground wasn’t melting, but the threat of new snow hung heavy in the air. Big Jim felt certain that this was a brief window for Onyx to have a chance to run off his pent-up energy.
Big Jim kept to a path he knew, since the snow could hide a hazard that might cause his beautiful horse to injure himself. Yes, he took care of everything that belonged to him. His land. His cattle. His horses. His family…
And that included Angelique and Gabrielle. He felt a muscle in his jaw twitch.
He realized that when his sons had stayed out all night, he had merely chuckled, but that his daughter was partaking of sins of the flesh irked the hell out of him.
And that attitude also irked the hell out of him. Talk about your double standard!
Big Jim exhaled, his breath making a stream of white mist around his face.
Angelique was a grown woman with needs of her own. She’d had a young daughter without benefit of marriage, so she wasn’t exactly a blushing virgin. But why couldn’t Big Jim give her the courtesy of the same treatment he had given his sons…all three of them?
“Okay, Onyx. Let’s shake it up, boy. I feel like a little run.” He slapped his boots against the horse’s sleek sides and enjoyed a brisk ride that let him release his concerns about his daughter.
When they arrived back at the ranch house, he saw Derrick Shelton’s truck pulled up close to the house. Big Jim stifled the irritation gathering in his chest. Derrick was a good man. He was the sheriff now, a tried and true friend. He had grown up with Big Jim’s own sons.
Onyx knew the way to the stable, so it would be fair to say the horse took his rider home. Big Jim removed the saddle and rubbed Onyx down before tossing a wool blanket over his back and offering him water and the special high-quality grain he bought for his equine children.
When he trudged toward the house, Derrick and Angelique were emerging from inside. They kissed. A nice, light kiss. Not bespeaking passion; it looked like real caring between two people.
“Oh, hey, Big Jim.” Derrick raised a hand as he stepped off the porch.
“Hey, yourself. You kids doin’ okay?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve gotta get to work, or I would hang around and chat.” He opened the door to his truck. “Miz Fern’s cooking up a storm in your kitchen. Smells awesome.” He shut the door and revved the motor before driving off.
Big Jim raised a hand in farewell and headed for the house. When he had stepped onto the porch, Angelique was still there, waiting for him.
“Hi, Dad. I hope you weren’t worried about us.”
Big Jim pulled off his leather gloves and reached for the door handle. He held it open for her to precede him. “Worried? Me? Of course not. You’ve got yourself a really good man there.”
Angelique dimpled. “You’re right about that. He’s the best.”
They went back to the kitchen, which did smell like a bake shop. “Mmmm… What smells so good, Miz Fern?”
“Must be these brownies I jus’ whupped up.”
“Yum,” Angelique said. “Can’t wait to try one.”
Fern grinned at both of them. “Well, why don’t both o’ yew set yerselves right down an’ I’ll bring ya some.”
“I can’t pass that up,” Big Jim said. What he really couldn’t pass up was the chance to have a casual chat with Angelique without playing the dad card. “Where’s Gabrielle? I haven’t gotten my hug yet today.”
“She’s right there, Dad.” Angelique pointed to where Fern Davis was carefully removing freshly cut brownies from the pan with a spatula. Holding onto the leg of Fern’s sweatpants, Gabrielle grinned at him.
“Gran make me some cookies.” She waved the evidence at him.
“Well, looky at that, big girl!” Big Jim’s face split into a wide smile. “Come on over here, Gabi.” He held out his arms to her.
Gabrielle let out a squeal and raced across the room to be caught up in Big Jim’s arms.
He felt a surge of joy as he lifted her high overhead and then snuggled her close for a hug. “Hello, darlin’. You’re my girl, y’know that?”
“Hi, Gwampa!” She gazed at him, her blue eyes shining.
“You know what Grampa needs? He needs a big kiss right here.” He pointed to a spot on his cheek, and the little girl obliged him with a loud and very wet smack.
As he tousled Gabrielle’s softly curling hair, he glanced at Angelique. She was looking on with great amusement. “You got a great little girl here.”
“Yes, we do.”
Fern brought the plate with brownies and a couple of oatmeal cookies for Gabrielle. “Yew folks wan’ some milk?”
“Oh, that would be great. I can get it.” Angelique started to jump up, but Fern waved her back to her seat.
“Yew jus’ stay a-sittin’ right there. I got this.” Fern winked as she turned to the refrigerator.
“This is real tasty, Miz Fern.” Big Jim munched his way through the first warm brownie.
Fern returned to the table with two glasses and a sippy cup for Gabrielle, while Big Jim lifted her into her high chair and scooted it up to the table. “Cookies and milk. Just what this big girl needed,” he said.
“An’ how ’bout yerself? How do yew like my brownies?”
“This is fabulous, Miz Fern,” Angelique offered. “I love chocolate.”
“I agree,” Big Jim said. “Tasty as tasty can be. Maybe you ought to open a bakery, Miz Fern. We don’t got one anything like that around here. I can be your silent partner and set you up with a nice place in town.”
Fern waved him off. “Not me. I jus’ wanna bake good stuff for tha people I care about. That’s what makes me happy.”
* * *
Angelique stared at Big Jim, her mouth open. She couldn’t believe he was suggesting that this elderly woman open a bake shop. She wanted to scream at him that she and her lover had run a restaurant down in the French Quarter. But then again, she felt tongue-tied.
