Charles laughed. “Well, she's been a little upset with me. Your mother told me to leave town for a while and not return. I know she would have come with Paul, but when she received your letter she agreed to wait. I give her about a month and then she'll be beating down your door, insisting that you take her in.”

  “That doesn't give me much time. But I'm sure you're right, she's wanted this house back for many years,” he said with a sigh, knowing he couldn't waste any time in convincing Nicole to make their marriage real.

  “So why did she tell you to leave, Papa? What did you do that sent her into a snit this time?” Max asked, not sure he really wanted to know, but thinking that maybe it might be better to be forewarned.

  “Nothing more than the usual, except this time I came home drunk after being out all night, and she smelled another woman's perfume on me. It was nothing. I've been staying in touch with Blanche's lady servant, Colette, and she gave me a hug goodbye. Your mother didn't believe me,” he said, dejected. “She's pretty mad at me, especially since I stayed out all night and came home drunk.”

  Max shook his head and stood up. Since the death of his father's sister, his drinking had grown progressively worse until now seldom a day went by that he wasn't drunk.

  “Your drinking is getting out of hand, Papa. I know you miss Blanche, but she wouldn't like what you're doing to yourself.”

  “My drinking is my business,” Charles said, and glanced away from his son.

  “That may be, but I don't want to watch you slowly kill yourself,” Max said into the darkness.

  Charles shrugged and Max knew from previous experience with his father that the subject was closed. For a few moments they sat in the darkness and listened to the night sounds. A mosquito buzzed Max, and he reached up to slap the pesky creature.

  “When do you have to go back, Papa?” Max asked.

  “Tomorrow morning, but I'm going to go by the cemetery first and check on Blanche's grave. Make sure it's being kept up and bring some fresh flowers.”

  Max nodded, seeing the sadness still in his father's eyes, not knowing how he could help with his grief.

  “I need to ask a favor, Papa,” Max said, knowing that soon they would be forced to go inside or be carried away by the nasty bugs.

  “What, Son?”

  “I'm glad you brought Paul to me, but try to keep his location from his mother. Once her new gentleman friend disappears and she no longer has money, she'll come running to get him back.”

  His father nodded. “I feared as much. She doesn't want the boy so much as she does the cash.”

  “True. Otherwise she would have given him to me years ago,” Max said as he thought of the woman he'd been so foolish to become involved with.

  His father nodded. “Paul's a nice kid, he deserves better.”

  “Desiree only looks out for herself, and right now Paul is not useful to her. But once this new man has ditched her, then he will once again be one of the few of her children she receives money for.” Max hated the situation but had felt powerless to change it. Now the boy was in his safekeeping and the time even seemed right to have his lawyers arrange to have Paul placed in his custody. After all, his mother had released Paul to his father. Why shouldn't Max take advantage of the situation?

  “Keep both Desiree and Mother away from Rosewood for as long as possible. I'm hoping to resolve the situation with Nicole soon, but it's not going to happen overnight. Soon, very soon, Mother can come spend as much time as she wants in the house. Tell her I said so,” Max told his father.

  “Does your wife know that your great-great-grandfather is the one who started this plantation?” his father asked, his eyes widening in the darkness. “That you married her to regain Rosewood?”

  A stiff breeze blew off the river, sending the spirit bottles to rattling in the night air. They clanged together, their sound tinkling with the breeze.

  Max cleared his throat. “Not so loud. The night has ears, and I don't want that information making its way back to her just yet”

  “So when do you intend to let her know that you want the land back?”

  A cricket chirped close by as Max sighed, the sound heavy in the night air. “I don't know. We're married and I keep hoping that with time she'll agree to make this marriage work. I just need some time to help her adjust.”

  “You know your mother. All I can say is you better hurry because she'll be knocking on your doorstep before the weather cools.”

  “Well, you could help me by keeping her at home. Court her like she was a young girl again. Just do something to keep her from coming to Rosewood,” Max pleaded, knowing his mother could ruin everything.

  Charles snorted. “Courting is for fools. She hasn't been interested in me for the last twenty years. What makes you think she would be now?”

  “With that kind of an attitude, she probably gave up on you. Just once, if you treated her like the woman you loved instead of tolerated, maybe she would look twice at you. Frankly, I don't know how she's put up with you all these years.”

  Silence filled the air. “Since the day she learned I couldn't save Rosewood for her, she's hated me. I've never done anything right for that woman, so what makes you think that's changed?”

  Max shook his head, knowing he fought a useless battle that he could never win. “You're both in the wrong most of the time, but you'd think that with almost thirty years of marriage you'd care enough about each other to be concerned. Sometimes I wish you'd both agree to live separate lives, just so I wouldn't have to listen to the two of you argue.” Max paused, anger filling him at the way his parents acted.

  “I think I've said more than enough for one night. I'm going to bed and will see you in the morning.” He walked away from his father, leaving the barn behind, and strolled toward the big house. The years had taken a toll on his parents' marriage, leaving them miserable, disillusioned, and downright hateful at times.

  Knowing the way his mother felt about Rosewood, he was almost certain his father was right. Soon, very soon, she'd be here, and if Nicole hadn't agreed to make their marriage permanent, he'd be revealed prematurely.

  ***

  The next afternoon Nicole sat reading the diary on the reclining couch in her bedroom, when a knock sounded on her bedroom door.

  “Come in,” she said, glancing out the front window where she could look out and see the river flowing by in the distance. The sun had driven her indoors and she'd spent the rest of the afternoon resting, reading the diary she'd found.

  Consuelo came into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. “I picked up the new deed at the lawyer's office, like you requested. Everything's been taken care of.”

  “Good.”

  Consuelo frowned at her. “The lawyer and I, we also drew up a new will just in case anything should happen to me, so the land would revert back to you and the child.”

  “You didn't have to do that,” Nicole said. “You'll probably outlive me.”

  “Well, I wanted to do it...just in case.”

  “What about the material I asked you to pick up? Did you find any baby cloth that we could make blankets from?” Nicole asked, wanting to start on a coverlet for the nursery.

  “Yes, I bought you several yards of a soft cotton and even some yarn in case you wanted to crochet a blanket,” Consuelo said, handing her the brown paper-wrapped package.

  Eager to see the cloth, she tore into the package and admired the material. “Thanks, Consuelo, I can't wait to get started sewing.”

  “You're welcome.” Consuelo frowned. “I asked about the bill, but Mr. Johnson said not to worry, that it had been taken care of. Did you pay it?”

  Nicole stopped fingering the soft cotton material and glanced up. “What are you talking about? I didn't pay Mr. Johnson. In fact, I feared he wouldn't let you purchase the things we needed.”

  “No. He said your bill had been paid.”

  Nicole frowned. “That doesn't make sense. Who would have given him money?”

  Consuelo raised her brows. “Then I went down the street to the lumber mill because Leon needed some nails. I checked first to see if they would let me buy them and they told me I could put as much as I wanted on the account. It seems that bill has also been paid.”

  “What?” Nicole said. “Did you find out who is paying my bills? Please tell me you asked?”

  “Yes, I asked, and was told that your new husband, Mr. Viel, paid your bill. It appears that he took care of your bills at the mercantile, the plantation store, and the lumber mill. You owe no one in town anything,” Consuelo said as Nicole peered up at her in total shock.

  A trickle of uneasiness went through Nicole. How could Max pay her bills? The total was not an enormous sum, but still, almost fifty dollars for all three places. How could a drifter come up with that kind of cash?

  And why hadn't Max said anything to her about paying her creditors? He'd kept quiet about what he'd done, and that concerned her. Where did he get the kind of money needed to pay her debts?

  She would insist on repaying him as soon as possible. But how could she afford to let go of that kind of cash? Especially now, when her bank account balance looked more like egg money.

  “What are you going to do?” Consuelo asked.

  “I don't know. I just don't understand why he did this. And how could he afford to pay those bills?” Nicole asked her trusted friend.

  Now she was indebted to Max and she didn't like that one bit

  “I don't know. If your marriage was going to be lasting, then I think he's doing his husbandly duty by taking care of you. But he knows yours is only a temporary arrangement, doesn't he?” Consuelo said.

  Nicole nodded, contemplating her trusty servant's words. “So if he knows our marriage is not going to last forever after, then why is he doing this?”

  She sighed, suddenly feeling fearful of the reasons for Max's actions. Why had she thought an arrangement like theirs could ever work? How could she have trusted Max to keep his word?

  “I think I need to speak with Mr. Viel,” Nicole said, suddenly rising from her resting place. “He owes me some answers.”

  Chapter Seven

  Even though Max could hire any number of carpenters, he enjoyed the sense of accomplishment that working with wood gave him as he pounded a nail into the cradle he was building. The aboveground basement of the house provided him a cool, shady place to work out of the late afternoon sun. A refreshing breeze blew through the open doors and he felt a sense of peace working with his hands. In this place, he could ruminate about the situation with Nicole and plan how to help his wife realize he wanted their marriage to become a lasting union of two people who worked toward a common goal. Not a love match, but they both wanted Rosewood and this was a good compromise.

  Max picked up the cabinet scraper and began to smooth the edges of the wood. He'd decided to build a cradle as a gift for the baby. Not to impress Nicole, but rather because he wanted the child to have something from him. Given the chance, he would raise this child as his own and never tell his family any different. Now instead of having one child, he'd have two, and hopefully more.

  “Moses,” he heard Nicole call. “Where is Mr. Viel?”

  Before he could hide the crib she walked into the storage area, her face flushed, and her eyes wide. The smell of lilacs permeated the small room like a breath of fresh air from the garden. Until Nicole, he'd never noticed the way a woman smelled, and the scents she wore were light and delicate, reminding him of springtime.

  “We need to talk,” she said, her voice strident as she hurried into the room, her skirts swooshing as she moved into the semi-dark, damp room. Her gaze dropped to his hands as he sanded the bare wood with the scraper.

  “Oh,” she said, gasping at the sight of the crib. Slowly she walked over to inspect the wooden cradle, her face holding a look of amazement. She glanced up at Max, her indigo eyes large and luminous, searching his. “Are you making this for the baby?”

  He smiled, pleased at her response. “Yes. I thought you might like to use this while the baby is tiny.”

  “You built this for the baby,” she said in amazement. She ran her hand over the oak, gave it a little push, and watched the cradle sway. “It even rocks.”

  “I still need to finish sanding it and then I thought I would put a light stain on the wood.”

  Max watched tears fill her eyes, surprised at the emotion he saw there.

  “No one has ever made me anything like this,” she said, looking at him in wonder. “Why are you doing this?”

  He shrugged. “I wanted to do something special for the baby and I thought you could place it by your bed at night.”

  She sniffed back her tears. “Consuelo and I can make a small mattress and coverlet for it.” She gazed up at him, her blue eyes warming him clear to his toes and making his breathing more rapid. “Thank you, Max. I don't know what to say. You continually amaze me.”

  He smiled, pleased at her response. “I enjoy surprising you. Sometimes I think you've never had a man who spoiled you before.”

  Nicole blushed and he could tell he'd taken her completely off guard. “I guess I never have.”

  “Didn't your father ever indulge you when you were a little girl?” he asked in a teasing manner.

  She tensed, and he knew he'd said the wrong thing and he was sorry he'd somehow ruined the mood.

  “No, my father never spoiled me.” She seemed to gather and separate herself from the cradle. She walked away, her back to him, and when she whirled around, the emotional wall that divided them was firmly back in place.

  There's something I need to discuss with you. Consuelo went to town this morning and came back with some interesting information.”

  “Like what?” he asked, frowning, afraid of just what Consuelo knew.

  “Someone has paid all my outstanding balances in town,” she stated, her expression serious. “Did you pay my debts?”

  He paused, wondering how he should answer her question. He'd hoped that she wouldn't find out until their life together was more settled. But he couldn't hold off settling the bills because he'd needed some lumber, and when he'd tried to purchase the material on the plantation account, he'd discovered Nicole owed money.

  “I had some extra cash, so I went ahead and paid the bills,” he said, not really being deceitful, but not being honest, either. He hated lying to her, yet he couldn't tell her the truth just yet. He couldn't tell her that her debts were minimal and he could pay them easily.

  She frowned at him, her hands going to her hips. “How do you have extra cash? I'm sure you must have needed it”

  “I told you that I did some work for that hotel,” he said.

  “But you also told me that they gave you free room and board in exchange.” She watched him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “Yes, they did. But the owners were so pleased, they paid me extra.” He picked up the cradle and reminded her, “I do excellent carpentry work.”

  Silently he regarded her as she stared at him, distrust darkening her eyes. “Before you decide to do something that involves me or the plantation again, I wish you would consult me, since you're not going to be here that long.”

  He tilted his head to the side and gazed at her. “You seem upset about this. I'm only trying to help you.”

  “I don't want to owe you any more than I already do,” she said with determination. “I'm sure you need the money just as badly as I do.”

  Something in her response caused Max to bristle. She assumed the worst about him and he couldn't help but wonder why. Or had Jean scarred her so badly she assumed the worst about all men?

  “Do you think that I'm not worthy as a man? Did you just assume that I have no money?”

  She stared at him, a frown between her brows. “I know very little about you as a man, except that you seem gentle and nice.” She took a deep breath as he watched her contemplate her words carefully. “But most drifters never settle down in one place for long. They never put down roots and they never acquire much money. So yes, I thought you were the same way.”

  He stared at her, wanting so much to tell her the truth, but knowing that he'd be foolish to dispute her claim before he'd convinced her to let their marriage be everlasting.

  Yet his pride was taking a beating. She thought him a bum siphoning off of her, taking advantage of her hospitality. He turned his back on her and went back to sanding the cradle in an attempt to control his response.

  “I'll consult you before I pay off any more of your bills. You can pay me back when we settle up after the baby is born,” he said, not looking at her, afraid to say much more.

  A successful person all his life, no one had ever called him a vagrant or a drifter before and he didn't like it now. In fact, it took all of his self-control to keep from yelling out the truth to her. But he couldn't. There was so much at stake here besides his pride, yet he didn't know how long he could let her think of him as a loafer.

  ***

  Three mornings later, Nicole sat across from Max at the breakfast table, sipping tea.

  “How do you feel this morning?” he asked her.

  The morning sickness seemed to have disappeared and as long as she had food in her stomach, she actually felt good. The baby moved now on a regular basis and her expanding waistline actually looked like she might be expecting.

  “I've felt really pleasant these last few days,” she said cheerfully, hoping the worst of her pregnancy was behind her.

  “I'm glad to hear that,” he said. “Then I think we should go into town today and attend the crawfish festival.”

  Nicole felt a moment of fear seize her as she remembered the day she met Max and how the ladies had snubbed and ridiculed her because of her marriage to Jean.

  “I don't think I want to go,” she said, rubbing her teacup nervously. “I don't particularly like crawfish and I have no need to travel into town.”

 

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