Chapter 7
LAWSON
“Boone is completely different from Braxton. He’s hilarious,” I said as we drove through more lush greenery, the homey gathering and laughter still resonating in me.
I’d never experienced anything like that.
My life had been so…controlled. Water guns?
Not likely. Swimming in a creek instead of a perfectly crystal clear swimming pool?
Never. I chaffed at my cloistered and sheltered life.
“He’s something else. All of them have a great sense of humor, but Booker is more cerebral, and Brax is more sarcastic.”
“He’s been very good to me,” I murmured. “You’ve been very good to me.” I turned to look out the window, the thought brought a sheen of tears to my eyes. I was so tired—physically tired, emotionally exhausted, weary of feeling lost and alone.
“It’s our downhome Southern hospitality, darlin’.
” I squeezed my eyes closed at the soft way he said, “darlin’” and held back the tears, blinking rapidly to clear them.
I came from a world of privilege and opulence filled with so much emptiness.
I never wanted to go back. I might have been the sweetheart of Atlantean society, but it had been nothing but a hollow, abusive prison with me on puppet strings.
I was heartily sick of it and the last year I’d spent on the run felt more free than all my years combined.
“And, it was easy to be good to you,” he said, his voice husky.
I turned to look at him in the cab, the light from the warm sun illuminating his handsome features.
But the physical part of Ethan Fairchild was only window dressing to the heart of the beauty that was within.
The guilt washed over me as I continued to keep my life, who I was, hidden.
My past wasn’t something I could talk about and my future was uncertain.
Ethan belonged in this wonderful little town with these wonderful people around him.
I didn’t have the decency to explain anything or why I needed to go.
But, the men who were after me were single-minded in what they wanted, and I had no intention of ever staying in one place long enough for them to find me.
It didn’t matter how often I had to run.
But there was something so peaceful, so beckoning about Suttontowne, the bayou so lush and exotic.
Then there was Ethan. As I looked at him, I wanted…
oh God, I wanted. But toying with his emotions was way down on my list of things I would ever want to do to him.
Besides, getting tangled up with him would set him squarely in my narrative.
Involve him in my problems, and he didn’t deserve that.
Resigned to keeping my past secret, I saw we were on a smooth paved road, the afternoon alive just beyond the air-conditioned truck.
Sultry and silky green as velvet. It felt…
wild out here, untamed after moving from city to city, getting lost in the anonymous humanity. But here, life was unfettered.
We passed an open clearing and the bright light lit rotting skeletons of houses that looked like a giant foot had come down and smashed them into broken and splintered ghosts of a once thriving community, covered in moss and tangled creepers.
“Ethan was that a village?”
“Yes, it once was. There’s a story behind it.”
“Ooh, a ghost story?”
“Not exactly. A voodoo priestess.”
I turned to look at him, but he kept a straight face. A shiver traveled through me. I looked around and realized that there were unexplained occurrences in the world. “Tell me.”
“It’s rumored that Imogene—she once owned Samantha’s restaurant—brought down a curse on the head of the fishermen who raped her daughter AnnClaire.
Destroyed them with a hurricane so devastating, nothing in the village was intact.
Everyone perished. She was hanged for it. They say that Imogene’s is haunted.”
“No kidding? By Imogene?”
“Yeah. Spooky, huh?”
“Very. Voodoo, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s very powerful. Most folks avoid talking about it, but do enjoy Samantha’s cooking. We should go there some time.” He said it casually like it was no big deal, but there was just a hint of strain in his voice that told me it was a big deal to him.
I smiled and nodded, but didn’t say that I probably wouldn’t be here long enough for another date.
I shouldn’t have indulged in this one. But, Ethan had been so persuasive, and he had done all that work for me to have such a comfortable place to live while I was here.
I didn’t realize how uncomfortable my car was until I got a chance to sink into that wonderful bed.
I felt I owed him, even though I knew he was teasing me and cajoling me into going with him.
We passed a carved sign that said Sutton and Fairchild Bait and Tackle .
He turned down a dirt and gravel road and drove until we entered a crushed shell parking lot.
There were a lot of cars and the shop was charming with its log cabin look, its wide inviting stairs and rustic appeal.
A dock sat to the side of the shop with a seaplane, empty mooring ropes that meant many of the canoes and kayaks were out on the water.
A boat which looked like a small screened porch on pontoons was most likely our destination sat next to the plane.
Just beyond the white exterior of the plane, a dead cypress, overgrown and shadowed in the water, I saw two herons, both motionless, standing on one leg, the slight breeze ruffling their feathers.
There were also dark log-like structures in the water, and I wondered if they were alligators. I’d never seen one before in the wild, wondered how close I could get to one before it was dangerous.
He parked the truck and removed the keys, opening his door.
“This is nice.”
“I live here, too. In the back of the shop, a small apartment.”
“Like mine.”
He smiled when he exited the truck. “Yeah, just like yours.”
I’d replaced my dress with a pair of khaki shorts and a black tank top with a pink button shirt open, the tails tied at my waist. I’d changed into slip-on sneakers to keep from skidding on the deck.
When the door opened, Ethan waited until I swung my legs around.
He reached for me, clasping me around the waist and lifting me out of the truck.
My gaze suddenly catching on his, my heart beat a little harder, something warm, seductive and invisible pulled at me, like the primal pull of the moon on the tides.
“You ready to see my world? Have a little fun?”
“Fun…the word is familiar but I’m not sure I can grasp the meaning.
” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had any fun before today.
I’d been trapped before I’d run, then the sheer exhaustion of surviving on scraps of jobs, some barely paying, some humiliating, and some downright degrading, like taking my clothes off.
That was the night I knew I’d hit rock bottom, falling into a million tiny broken bits along the way.
How could I be honest like he’d mentioned when we were going to his parents?
Such lovely people, a reverend and his wife—Ethan, a preacher’s son for God’s sake.
How could I tell him I had recently been a stripper?
That I had to run without getting paid because some guy wanted to have sex with me against my will.
But I was more afraid of getting arrested and being found.
It was as close to a prostitute as I could get, and I was heartily ashamed that my desperation had driven me to take that job, that I had sacrificed my pride and respect to do something so abhorrent.
“Aw, don’t look so sad, darlin’.” He set me on my feet.
“I’ll show you what it’s like to have a little fun.
” Ethan Fairchild looked more like a devilish temptation than he did a preacher’s son…
canting his head and giving me a boyish grin, he slipped his arm around me, clasping my shoulders and steering me down toward the dock.
“Okay, I’m in your hands,” I said, and then everything froze in me when his hands tightened reflexively on my shoulders.
I wanted to be in his hold, but I’d already given myself a lecture on the matter.
But I seemed to have a very hard time keeping my reasons for not getting involved to slip from my mind.
“Let the bayou seduce you, Lawson. It’s got a power all its own. Like magic.”
I smiled, liking that as I’d thought whimsically of myself as a beleaguered princess and Ethan as a knight.
But I was sure that rescue wouldn’t be possible for me.
Just as I thought that, Ethan came around me and stepped onto the boat.
We’d be out of the reach of insects because of the screen and the cute gator print canvas roof would protect us from any kind of weather.
He reached out his hand, and I slipped mine into his, the warmth of his skin jolting through me. Boxes of begonias, their tiny pink flowers matching my shirt, shivered as I stepped aboard. The boat dipped a bit and I wobbled, but Ethan steadied me.
“I’ve got you, sugar,” he whispered as he directed me toward one of the two cushioned bench seats across from each other.
He started up the motor, the cacophony of the insect and animal sounds getting drowned out initially, then coming back full force as the motor settled into a purr.
The bow cut through the dark, still water, the herons raising their heads to follow our progress as we headed for the deeper water in the center of the channel.
At first there were plenty of buildings: businesses, houses, and docks.
I could see people going about their everyday lives, some rocking on a back porch soaking up the lazy Sunday heat, kids in the water by the creek beds, some crawfishing and others catching frogs.
The peace of the area settled over me, and I felt a pang that I couldn’t stay here in what had to be the most beautiful spot on earth.