Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 3

Samuel popped his head up at feeling Maggie’s touch on his shoulder. He spotted the small notebook on the bed, already knowing what it was. He watched as she hurried out the room, their eyes locking just before the room door shut.

He turned to the notebook, a sick dread swimming in his stomach. He glanced at his father and searched for any signs of change in his peaceful face. Finding none, he moved the notebook closer, adjusting his father’s hand in his as he opened the cover.

His breath held at the first picture. A girl. Maybe seven. She seemed familiar. He stared, touching the grooved lines on the paper while waiting for something more to come.

Turning the page, he found what seemed to be the same girl.

He turned the page back, looking for differences. She sat in a ball with both arms covering her head. Not finding any difference, he went on, finding a third drawing of the same girl. Same pose. He flipped and found the same on the next. And the next. He finally stopped when the pictures changed to another girl. Older now. Maybe the same one?

By the time he got to the end of the notebook, he was frustrated with how little he got from any of it. He paused at the last girl, staring at her. He was sure it was Belle Eveque. He stared into the eyes, feeling something. He tilted his head trying to understand what felt obvious. He held up the book now, trying for another angle. Her eyes followed him in each, taunting him with an important secret. Why was she the last picture?

He set the tablet on the bed and laid his head next to it, wrapping his father’s hand in both of his now. The need to hold on to him was strong as ever. Sometimes the urges lessened, and it scared him when that happened. He never stopped except for bathroom breaks. And when he returned, he held him tighter than ever with both hands, stepping up his spiritual warfare.

His phone rang next to him, and he looked. Eveque. He answered with a quiet, “Hey.”

“You want company?”

“Ah. I’m fine.”

“Maybe so, but our Belle Eveque said she wants to come visit.”

Seer straightened a little. “Okay. She said that?”

“Oui,” he said. “Why?”

He shook his head. “Just…I don’t know.”

“How’s your father?”

He glanced at him. “Same.”

“Hope you’re hungry for some of Mah-Mah’s chicken and sausage gumbo she’s loaded us up with food for a week.”

He smiled. Mah-Mah. “I would love some. Although Justine cooks a mean crab-cake.”

“Bon Dieu, I know this. That’s why she works there. Her food is what miracles are made of, oui?”

“Oui,” he muttered, smiling.

“See you in swamp sec.”

****

Patches paused on the listing Medical Cattle Tagswith real time readings. Was a shot in the dark but maybe it would work for what they needed. He paused in astonishment as he read Used only one season for tracking bat infestations on ranch. Can be modified for other uses. “Holy mother of miracles.” They sure didn’t have time to wait for 8-bit to build something that detected markers in blood, but he’d thought surely the medical field had something close they could modify. Something like radio frequency identification tags coupled with a biosensor mechanism where they got real time readings of Nitro’s blood, alerting them when levels got dangerous.

Facebook Marketplace had been his final hail Mary in his search. “Come on Tegan from Texas,” he muttered, hitting the Is this item still available button on the message box. “Give me the goods, bruh.”

He shut the laptop and headed out to make his final rounds before the dinner bell. Ms. Justine had his stomach in a mean growl since three that afternoon with her famous crab cakes. Too bad she wasn’t forty years younger, he’d snatch that up for his wife in a marsh minute.

Patches peeked into Mr. Leblanc’s room, finding him staring longingly out the window from his bed. “Hey Pacey, how you doing?”

The old man’s tired face lit up on him. “Meh good and you-self?”

“I’m hungry like a swamp rat after smelling Ms. Jusitne’s cooking.”

He gave a big toothless laugh. “Meh yeah?”

Patches stopped at his bed, sitting. “Lemme take a peek at that mean bite.” He moved the covers off his feet where the bandages protected the muskrat bite on his shin. “Pain’s all gone?”

“All gone. But meh, it itches yeah?”

He laughed, carefully unwrapping it. “Itching is good. Oh yes, this is good,” he said, inspecting it.

“What you tink?”

“I think you’re all better is what I think. Don’t need these anymore, either.” He gathered the bandages and tossed them in the trash.

“What dat means?” he asked, sounding like he’d come to think he’d never leave.

“It means you won the gohome swamp-lottery.”

His gray bushy brows shot up. “Fo real?”

“For real,” he nodded. “Who you want me to call? Unless you wanna spend the night with me one more night.”

“Shooooo I like you,” he said, his big laugh coming. “But not dat much. Meh call mah sister, she can come get me.”

Patches laughed real good at that. “At least eat supper with me before you go.”

“Meh I’ll say yes if you hep me out this bed.”

“You got it,” Patches said, gently easing him to the edge. “I’ll get your clothes. You want to shower before heading out, you can. You can use some of Mah-Mah’s Miracle Man soap for Mrs. Leblanc.”

Patches laughed at how funny he thought that was. The old man aimed a crooked finger at him, light in his little half-moon eyes. “She might put me back in the hospital if I come home smellin’ too good, yeah?”

Patches died laughing as he shuffled slowly along with him, arm hooked in his in case he decided to fall. Pacey would be hack if he had to spend another day there with him, this he knew.

****

Beth stilled when Sahvrin opened the hospital room door and Samuel’s head resting on the bed came into view. The sight of his dad’s hand firmly grasped between his, stirred the pain in her chest. Sahvrin squeezed her upper arms, his eyes on her. But she couldn’t stop looking at their Seer. Their strong, kind Samuel, so broken and desperate there. The man who always had the answers for others was now bowed over a bed, just a little boy wanting his Mon Pier. When she heard Spook tell Bishop the story, she couldn’t get the vision of him crying frantically for his dad out of her head. God, her heart was broken for him. She wanted him to know he wasn’t alone. Everybody was praying with him.

He suddenly raised his head, aiming weary blue eyes at them, then gave a weak smile that broke her heart more. “Hey,” he called quietly. “Good to see you two.”

Beth hurried over and wrapped her arms around him, holding on to him for many seconds. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” he whispered back, his hand stroking her head. Even while broken, he managed to comfort others. “Thank you for coming, Mah Belle Eveque.”

She straightened and looked at his father. He could’ve been sleeping other than the oxygen tubes connected to him. “He’s okay?”

He nodded and she eyed his hands, grasping his father’s. She moved closer to the bed and covered their joined hands with hers.

Seer suddenly stood and she turned, finding his gaze aimed at her, tears making them glow the brightest blue she’d ever seen.

“Beth,” he whispered, covering her hand with his other one.

She sucked in a breath at the hot vibration passing through her fingers and palm, holding his stare. “Seer?”

His eyes slowly closed and tears slipped down his face. A sudden rush of sorrow brought her gasp. “Please…Belle Eveque. Help me,” he whispered.

He pressed their hands tightly together and another wave of energy zapped through her. Panic brought her other hand on top of his as she stared at him trapped in a current of powers. “I don’t…I don’t know what to do,” she said, breathless.

“Tell him…to come back,” he said, his words shaking. “Tell them…to let him go.”

His mouth trembled as he stared at her, the hot energy spreading through her till she fought for air. “Let him go,” she gasped, closing her eyes. A darkness suddenly circled her, thick and hard, pressing into her body and chest then lungs. Panicked, she sucked in a sharp breath and yelled, “LET HIM GO!”

She stumbled back, hitting somebody, her terrified gaze locked on his father shaking in the bed.

“Beth,” Bishop called at her ear, his arms around her as she covered her mouth, watching in horror as Samuel covered his father”s thrashing body, yelling “Mon Piere! Come back to me! Let him go!”

Patches flew into the room and her breaths came ragged as she dug her nails into Bishops arms. “Come back,” she gasped, blinking tears from her vision as they fought to remove Samuel. “Come back, come back to him,” she wailed, reaching toward him. “COME BACK TO HIM!”

“Oh fuck,” Bishop shot out, jerking her in reverse as Ruckus shot up in the bed with wide eyes and growling breaths bellowing out of him.

****

Patches collapsed onto his little cot, throwing his arm over his face. What. A fucking. Day.

He sat up before he passed out. The night was still young for him with the Hurricane on his ass. So much to do still.

He forced himself off the bed, sitting at the little desk and opening the laptop. He clicked the Facebook tab. “Yes,” he muttered, opening the message box. “Still available, thank you Texas.”

He typed, needing to verify what this thing did. Can you verify this tool can read blood markers? And if it can, how soon can I get this? He considered what else to say. Had a case of bat attacks and need it immediately.

He went to his email to check on his shipment of birthing kit supplies. Please let it get here by tomorrow. He had three pregnant patients nearing delivery and didn’t want to be caught without plenty of everything.

Hearing a ping, he hurried to his Facebook tab. Yes, it can. It’s ready to go and I can deliver. Will even set up and give a demonstration, no extra charge. Where are you located?

“Wow, fucking nice.” He typed, Atchafalaya Basin, Louisiana. Can pay extra for those services.

Not necessary. Call me to set something up. 555-555-2308. Tegan.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, not about to lose that. He made his way to the resident apartment downstairs, ready for a shower.

“Tegan speaking.”

He paused his steps at the female voice. “Yeah, I’m the one from Market Place needing that bat equipment.”

“Mr. Patches,” she said with a ball-busting-at-your service tone. “How soon do you need this and how will you be paying?”

“Needed it yesterday and I’ll be paying cash.”

“Not sure how paying cash will work,” she informed in the same sturdy way.

“I would want to go see the equipment in action first if that’s at all possible. If it’s what I need, I’ll drive it back down myself.”

“If I’m going to help you set it up, I’d take it in my truck.”

“Okay,” he said. “Exactly what all does the equipment do.”

“It feeds your animal’s biometric data to a computer. You set what sort of readouts you want, and it gives it real time, twenty-four seven. We had a bat epidemic about five years back. Flock of rabid ones got a hold of our steers and decided to use them as a feasting ground. We lost fifty head of cattle, and half a million in profit. Lot of good this gear did, couple weeks after tagging our stock, those ugly sonsabitches all left for whatever reason. My father is selling the ranch and I’m blessed with the task of finding a buyer for everything, seeing as I’m not much into that lifestyle anymore. I’m opening a business for a line of cowboy boots and this sale would go to that venture.”

Patches paused, considering all that information. “Well…since you’ll be here, you may as well check out the alligator surplus. I have family here that would likely be happy to make some kind of trade.”

“For alligator skins?”

“For alligator anything,” he assured.

“You with these Bishop people I’m looking at on your page?”

“I am.”

“Are yall like a family business?”

“You could say that, yes.”

“Well, ain’t that somethin,’” she said, like she’d hit the jackpot. They both had so far. “When you comin have a look, then?”

“Tomorrow, if I can.”

“Alright. I can call J-J over to meet with us here. He’s just my daddy’s hired hand. ‘Parently I still need babysittin’ and defending.”

And clearly she disagreed. He imagined a twig of a thing chewing on hay with a huge cowgirl hat on her too tiny head. “Yeah, that works. I’ll be coming alone if that’s okay.”

“Suit yourself. J-J’s plenty capable. What time you thinkin’ of coming?”

“What time’s good for you?”

“Noon.”

He considered that. “Sounds good. Where are you exactly?”

“Thirty miles from Waco. When you’re ready to ride, call and I’ll give you exacts. Work for you?”

“Yes ma’am it does.”

“Alrighty then. Message if you have anymore questions before that. Thank you Mr. Patches.”

“And thank you, Miss Tegan.

Patches pushed off the wall and made his way to the bathroom. Two miracles in one day. First Ruckus, then this. He hoped they continued on through this hurricane coming. He hoped even more that they wouldn’t need any.

****

Ethan let off the gas on the boat at seeing Cat’s name on his phone. He was already headed back. “You fell asleep in the tub or what?”

“No, I fell in the damn bayou is where I fell. I found your fishing poles in that shed and thought I’d like to throw a line in while bathing, maybe have fresh fish for you to cook me. I swear to high heaven I tripped on a blade of air, tried to catch my balance, and took a plunge.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, hitting the gas again.

“I’m fine, other than too gross for a lavender bath. I used your shower, I hope that was okay. Big G helped and it’s a good thing too, there ain’t a single damn handle or anything in that thing,” she cried like it was outrageous.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to see her. “I’m ten minutes away.”

“Well, good, cause I’m all clean and back to bored. I’ll be glad when poor AL can come out and play, I think Big G is already sick of me.”

He chuckled. “I doubt that. And AL doesn’t like to play. You’re not missing anything.”

“Why exactly don’t you want him talking to me? That’s one of my questions by the way.”

“Because he has no filter.”

“Well…what in swamp’s snout does he say like that?”

“Things inappropriate for a woman to hear.”

“You gave him a foul mouth?”

“You can say that.”

“Why?” she cried, sounding like she half smiled.

“Well, I love Big G but after a bit, you want somebody that talks less…”

“Nerdy?”

“Yes. Less formality.”

“Well, he fixed that with me. Now he talks so I don’t need a dictionary. So, what you been up to? Where’d you go, what you see, who’d you talk to and why?”

He laughed at all her questions.

“What?” she laughed back. “I’m a nosy female, you better get used to it.”

He’d better, that’s for sure. “Well, I meant to tell you, we’re required to take classes.”

“What kind? Who requires it?”

“The Belle Eveque. Some kind of marriage classes.”

She sucked in a breath with an “Awww, ain’t that sweet of her. And smart! I need all the help I can get with that as you know.”

“I do.”

“Oh geeze, thanks,” she sputtered, no doubt turning that sexy shade of pink.

“I’m teasing you. I like teasing you.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Do you,” he said. “You should be hearing me soon.

“You on that ear-raper?”

Too funny. “Well, if I was, you wouldn’t need to ask,” he laughed.

“Huh.”

“That reminds me…”

“Yeah? What does it remind you of,” she muttered, words still smiling.

“How do you feel about forced sex?” He laughed at her gasp. “I’m kidding.”

“Are you…” she wondered. “Given that past of yours, I have to wonder.”

“What are you wondering? Three minutes away.”

“What exact kind of things you…prefer. I mean, our arrangement does include that whateveryouwant clause and whatever I want. Must mean you have preferences?”

“I do. I prefer you deciding that.” He smiled at her little growl.

“I prefer to know your preference.”

“I thought I just told you that,” he chuckled.

“Ethan, I’m serious!” The little beg in her voice jerked his cock. “I can handle it.”

“It must be this way, petite menou. You first.”

“Then you?”

“Oui.”

“How long for me?”

“However long I think.”

She gave a long sigh. “Boy, you are really testing me.”

“Boy,” he repeated with a mild shake of his head. “You’re provoking me?”

“Oh…is that a thing with you? You got buttons to press?”

“I sure do,” he said, maybe hinted, maybe begged.

“I’ll ask Big G about them. Or AL.”

“AL won’t tell.”

“Big G will.”

“No,” he laughed. “He won’t. I’m here, petite menou.”

“Oh, he will,” she assured easily. “I figured that one out.”

“Did you,” he mused.

“He’s a lot like my Pah-Pah. You have to learn how to beat around that bush.”

“Do that and you’ll find yourself really bored.”

She sucked in a breath. “You can’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Punish Big G cuz of me!”

“You remember he’s a machine?”

“He’s nice to me! And he helps me. With things. Did you know he can whisper?”

8-Bit laughed. “I did. If you whisper to him, he will whisper back. Why is petite menou whispering to Big G?”

She sputtered a little, making him laugh more. “It was early, and I didn’t want to be loud is all. When will you let me meet AL?”

“Never,” he was pretty sure with that abrupt change of subject.

“Why?” she said, stomping the word as he hopped out the boat and tied it off.

“Because AL would be a bad influence.” And get him into a lot of trouble.

“And whose fault is that?”

He grabbed the day’s haul in one hand and hopped on the pier. “Mine,” he said, heading toward the house while looking around. “Where are you?”

“I’m in heaven on this back porch of course. Where are you?”

“Making my way there. I have things for you.”

“Me?”

He chuckled at the childish repeat. “Yes, you.”

“Like what?”

Her poorly masked excitement said she rarely got gifts. He’d sure be happy to change that. Turned out buying her things came with an eroticism he’d never enjoyed before.

“Better not be something silly like flowers,” she warned.

“Not flowers.” He held the phone with his shoulder and unlatched the side gate, pushing his way through. “You shouldn’t be out at night alone.”

“Why?” she whine/wondered.

He stepped onto the porch and dropped the bags, getting her happy smile when she turned. “You’re back,” she said on the phone still.

He turned off the phone and slid it in his pocket as the need to touch her filled his every cell, followed by celibacy habits locking him down tight.

She set her phone on the table, crossing her arms while eyeing the bags. “My present is in that?”

Her curiosity lit her eyes, making him want to get lost in them. “All of it is yours.”

Those eyes widened with the drop of her jaw. “All?” She eyed him. “Can I look now?”

“Yes,” he grinned. “I’m gonna grab a shower in the guest bathroom while you do.” She wet her lips, oblivious to her arousal dancing before him. He turned when the need to kiss her became life or death. “Wear the red dress tonight,” he said before stopping in the doorway. “Come in so I can lock up.”

She snatched the two bags from the porch and hurried in, flashing him a look that reminded him of that brand new woman he’d wakened with her first orgasm. Begging. It was more than the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. It was the stuff adoration was made of.