Sandra Hill - [Creole] (23 page)

She let out a keen, drawn-out wail of pleasure. The kind
that could make a man’s ego bloom to outlandish proportions. “What are you doing to me?” she cried. “This isn’t supposed to happen, you wretch. You weren’t supposed to touch me.”

“Did I touch you first?” he asked, his voice almost unrecognizable in its raspiness. “I don’t remember.”

He began to bunch her gown in his fists, gathering it higher and higher, exposing long legs and finally that little wispy undergarment Harriet called
panties
.

“You have been taking those birth-control pills, haven’t you, Harriet?” he said against her neck as he undid the waistband of his trousers and let them drop to his ankles.

She nodded, as speechless with excitement as he was.

“This will be so good, darlin’,” he promised as he began to slip the sides of her panties down her hips. “No worry. No babies. Just us, sweetheart. That’s all.”

Harriet went still and put halting hands on his. “No,” she said on a whimper, then more loudly. “
No!
”

Etienne couldn’t believe she was going to stop now, Just like before, But he couldn’t be angry with the woman who crumpled to the floor and sobbed loudly into her widespread fingers. What was wrong with her?

Tucking his painfully hard erection back into his pants, he sank down beside her, taking her into his arms. She laid her face against his chest and sobbed even louder.

“What is it,
chérie?” Is that me, talking so calmly? When her bare breasts are moving against me with every sob? When her lips are swollen from my kisses, and begging for more? When I am so hard and hot for her I just might burst?

I must be a saint
.

“Babies,” she blubbered.

“Babies?”

“You said, ‘No babies.’”

Suddenly, Etienne didn’t feel quite so aroused. “That’s right. You know I don’t want children. I’ve mentioned my
mother’s madness. Dammit, why do you bring this up now? Why?”

“Because you already have a baby…a child.” She sniffled, wiping a hand across her nose. “That’s why I’ve been looking for you all day. To talk to you about Saralee.”

Etienne stiffened and then stood abruptly. Harriet scrambled to regain her balance.

“I have no children.”

“Yes, you do,” Harriet stormed. She stood, too, then belatedly remembered to pull up the bodice of her gown.

Etienne stifled a moan at the sight.

“Saralee is not my child. I will explain this to you one time, and one time only, Harriet. Then I never want to discuss it again. I have always been concerned about the possibility of passing on my mother’s madness. I have always used precautions, even with prostitutes. Do I make myself clear?”

Walking over to the window, he stared blindly out at the fields. He inhaled and exhaled deeply to regain his composure.

“Now, let me make myself clear, Mr. Know-It-All Baptiste. You’re always accusing me of giving lectures. Well, I’m giving you a lecture now. In my time we have the most advanced forms of birth control imaginable. When you refer to taking precautions, I’m assuming you mean those French Letter things. Well, listen up, babe…condoms aren’t infallible in the twentieth century, and they sure as hell aren’t infallible in the nineteenth century.” She took a deep breath and continued, “Furthermore, Cain says your mother wasn’t insane, just addicted to laudanum. So forget that bad blood business.”

He turned slowly and gazed at her. She stood, hands on hips, glaring at him. Her hair spilled out over her shoulders, having lost its fastenings. Her face and shoulders were flushed from his caresses. Her green cat eyes flashed fire at him.

“Saralee is not my child,” he repeated, more softly this
time. And his headache returned with a vengeance, exploding behind his eyeballs.

Tears welled in her eyes. She lifted one hand beseechingly, then dropped it. “You’re not a cruel man. I know you’re not. How can you hurt your own daughter so? She needs you.”

He tightened his jaw and lifted his chin.

“You stubborn fool. Take that blasted picture you carry around…the one of you as a boy with your brothers and sisters…take that damn picture and hold it up next to Saralee. She looks just like you.” Her voice broke. “She really does.”

Etienne’s shoulders slumped. Could Harriet be right? No, no, it was impossible. But what if she was right?

“Will you at least consider the possibility?”

He hesitated for several long moments, then nodded.

She nodded back and in a swirl of skirts headed for the doorway, then froze. “Oh, no! It can’t be.” She slapped a hand over her chest in alarm, then scowled at him accusingly over her shoulder. “How could you do this to me?

“Do what?” Etienne snapped. His body and soul had been battered by this infuriating woman.
What next?

“This is the worst thing that could happen to me.” She shivered with distaste.

“Well, don’t be afraid to speak up, darlin’.”
Why stop now?

“I love you, stupid.”

Harriet didn’t see Etienne again for another hour. She was sitting on a bench at the kitchen table waiting for dinner when he slipped in beside her.

By then her temper had settled down. But not her emotions. She abhorred Etienne’s effect on her. All he had to do was flash her one of his roguish once-overs, and her passions were inflamed.

“I love you, stupid.” Did I really say that?

She stole a glance at Etienne.

He winked.

Aaarrgh! I did
.

The feminist and the rogue. A match made in hell.

God, I’m turning into my mother. I can’t love him. I can’t love any man. No, no, no. I will not stand for this
.

Red faced, she scooted over, making room, but couldn’t look at him directly. When she finally sneaked a sidelong glance, she noticed a flush underlying the dark skin of his cheeks. The fingertips of one hand tapped nervously on the table.

Okay, so he wasn’t so calm either.
Good
.

No, that was bad. He should do something jerky so that I can say, “Blech! Sorry, Charlie, I don’t love you after all
.”

His clean-shaven face smelled of soap lather.
Why couldn’t he have a beard and b.o.?
He’d put on dark trousers and a faded blue cotton shirt, with several buttons open at the neck.
A few gold chains would help
. His black hair was combed wetly off his face, the bump on his forehead barely noticeable now.

Across from her sat Saralee, flanked by Cain and Abel, who were trying their best to get the little girl to loosen up.

“Will you play princess with me tomorrow, Sarie?” Abel implored. “I’ll even be the frog this time. Ribet, ribet!”

Saralee was a shy thing who had burst out with an occasional giggle or given reluctant monosyllabic answers to their questions…before Etienne’s arrival. At first sight of her father, she went rigid with fright and her skin paled to a ghostly white. If she hadn’t been trapped on the bench, she would have fled like a scared bird.

“No, Sarie is going to be my nurse tomorrow,” Cain insisted.

The adorable girl had a miniature cap perched on her head similar to those worn by women nurses during the Civil War. Cain had brought it for her as a coming-home gift. In the pocket of her long apron was the mouth organ Abel had presented to her moments ago, promising to give her lessons before his departure.

Saralee beamed at the two brothers who vied for her favors, but she remained silent, casting wary peeks at Etienne. Did she fear he would chastise her for speaking, or smiling?

Of course
.

And where was Etienne’s gift for his daughter? Harriet scowled at the louse.
Good idea…think about all his bad qualities
.

The louse squeezed her thigh under the table.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” she hissed. Luckily, Cain and Abel were playing a guessing game with Saralee that distracted them momentarily.

He squeezed tighter and moved his fingers higher. “You don’t tell a man that you…what you said…then turn cold again. Uh-uh. Those words give a man rights.”

He didn’t have to say the words for her to know what he meant. Her face blazed even hotter.

“And what do you mean by ‘I love you,
stupid
’? What kind of declaration is that?”

“It’s the truth. You are stupid,
stupid
. And I lied about the other part.” Then she gasped, “Ooooh!” His clever fingers had entered new territory. She tried discreetly to shove them away but he leaned close to whisper in her ear, thus dividing her attention between two equally sensitive zones.

“I want you,” he breathed into her ear. “Desperately.”

Oh, he is good
. She closed her eyes and prayed for strength. An image of her mother crying flitted through her mind.
Thank you, God!
When she opened her eyes, three sets of eyes stared at her; actually, it was probably four sets, but she wasn’t about to look at the rogue with the magic fingers.

“Wh-what?” she stammered, realizing that someone must have asked a question and was waiting for an answer.

“I asked you what’s wrong?” Cain said, a grin twitching at his lips. “You look like you’re in pain.”

“What I want to know is, where is Etienne’s hand?” Abel asked.

Etienne’s hand whisked upward, holding a linen cloth. “Just retrieving my napkin,” he said, smiling broadly.

Yep, the man did have clever hands, and a clever tongue. In fact, he had lots of clever body parts. Too bad he’d never get to use them on her now.

Everyone laughed, except Saralee, who didn’t understand.

Verbena, a middle-aged black woman, was helping Blossom in the kitchen tonight. She waddled over now to hand Blossom the platter of ham and red-eye gravy, made from pan drippings and leftover coffee. Harriet had watched Saralee prepare much of the meal earlier, under Blossom’s direction. They’d worked over a potager, a tile counter with built in “stew holes” heated by charcoal burners—a forerunner of stove-top ranges. On the sideboard had already been placed small Irish potatoes and fresh vegetables, not to mention warm bread and sweet butter. A glass of lemonade or coffee was at each setting.

Each person passed an empty plate to Blossom, who stood serving at the end of the table. When it came Etienne’s turn, she gave him a pitifully small slice of meat, even smaller than Saralee’s portion. He just raised an amused brow.

When it was Harriet’s turn, Blossom pierced her with a withering appraisal. “I thought you was gonna help me turn this scamp around? He’s still actin’ scampy, far as I kin see.”

“Huh?” Etienne glowered alternately at Blossom and her.

Scampy? Yep, that about says it
. But did Blossom have to announce their stupid plans to everyone?

Saralee continued to blink with confusion.

Cain and Abel slapped their knees and went into hysterics.

“What you two cacklin’ about?” Blossom said as she poured out more beverages. “I declare, you two was born tired and raised lazy. When you boys gonna give me some babies to play with? Ain’t it time you stopped plowin’ every field in the parish and married up with a nice, decent wife?” Her eyes shifted craftily. “Did I tell you ’bout the new schoolmistress, Miz Ellen?”

Cain and Abel rolled their eyes at each other.

“She come from California to visit her auntie Verbena. She be book-smart, too. Thass why she set up the school.”

Etienne smiled, relieved that he was no longer the object of Blossom’s attention. Then his brow creased with a frown. He was probably remembering his earlier question about who’d given permission to start up a school on his lands.

“Doan you be givin’ me that ‘I-am-the-master’ eye, Mistuh Baptiste. Iffen you neglect yo’ duties, others got to take up the slack. By the by, Ellen be needin’ money for the school. Ain’t nearly enough books and papers fer thirty young’uns.”

“Thirty?” he choked out.

“She couldn’t hardly turn away those other chilluns from down the bayou what needs book-learnin’, too. Now could she?”

Cain and Abel gave each other congratulatory grins now that the ball of Blossom’s sharp tongue had bounced to another court.

And Saralee’s puzzled frown deepened.

“Yessirree, Miz Ellen be in Houma today…”

And the ball was back in the black men’s laps. Abel’s eyes crossed and Cain looked as if he’d swallowed a whole lemon, not a sip of lemonade.

“…but she be back tomorrow. You boys stay put and ol’ Blossom gonna find you a lady for a wife, not one of them fanfoots with big bosoms and city ways.”

“What’s wrong with big bosoms?” Cain asked innocently as he wiped his plate clean with a second slice of bread.

“I like the city,” Abel added. “So don’t be pushin’ any country maid in my face. Besides, I got my standards.”

Blossom harrumphed and focused her attention on Cain. “And what you mean by neglectin’ all these sick people hereabouts? Lordy, we gots ailin’ black folks comin’ here from every plantation in the lowlands lookin’ for the swamp doctor. You gots responsibilities, boy.”

Abel put his face in his hands, sensing he was next.

“And Abel…Lord-a-mercy!…you still playin’ that
low-down devil music? I never did hear of a grown man what wanted to devote his life to such lust-provokin’ trash.”

“Can I have another helping, Blossom?” Etienne held out his empty plate, batting his puppy dog eyes at the old cook. Cain and Abel exhaled thankfully at his interruption.

Blossom couldn’t resist Etienne, and this time the plate was piled high, with a slice of tipsy cake added for good measure.

He winked at Blossom, and she harrumphed again, walking away pleased.

When the meal was finally over, with intermittent casual conversation about the plantation and work to be done during the few days they’d be here, Saralee squirmed. “Can…can I…be…be ex-ex-excused?” she stuttered in a shaky voice.

“No,” Etienne said firmly.

Saralee’s blue eyes shot wide and a visible shiver passed over her thin body.

“Etienne!” Harriet and Cain and Abel turned on the brute with indignation.

He ignored their scorn. Pulling a worn photograph out of his pocket, Etienne laid it on the table.

Harriet’s heart started beating so fast she could barely breathe. Cain and Abel tensed.

Etienne studied the photograph, then glanced over at Saralee, then back to the sepia-toned picture. Gulping, he fought for words. “Saralee, someone gave me hell…I mean, a lecture today. She said I was blind. That I couldn’t see what stared me in the face.”

The little girl made a squeaking sound and put the fingertips of one hand to her quivering mouth. Abel patted her on the shoulder, murmuring, “It’s gonna be all right, baby.”

“Well, Saralee, I’m stubborn, but I’m not stupid.” He gave Harriet a look at that last word, then went on, addressing Saralee. “I’m your father. You’re my daughter.”

“Hallelujah!” Blossom exclaimed in the background. Cain and Abel glowed with happiness. Saralee looked as if Etienne had just handed her the moon. Harriet was weeping.

I’m a goner
, Harriet thought as
I love you, stupid
echoed through her mind.

“I don’t know that it makes any difference,” he went on, “but…that’s all I wanted to say.” Etienne shocked everyone by standing abruptly then and walking stiffly toward the back door.

Wasn’t he going to hug his daughter? Or talk to her? Make up for lost years? Plan their future? The jerk! Where was her tape recorder? She saw a new chapter brewing: “Dumb Things Men Do to Their Children.”

Boy, oh boy, did Etienne need one of her therapy sessions.

Boy, oh boy, did she need one of her therapy sessions.

At the last minute, Etienne turned and sent Harriet a smoldering “man-look.”

Uh-oh!

He pointed a finger at her and smiled grimly. “You and I have unfinished business, darlin’.”

They probably heard the thumping of her heart all the way to New Orleans.

And Harriet decided on the title for the last chapter of her book: “I Love You, Stupid.”

Harriet caught up with Etienne a short time later as he stomped down a narrow path to the bayou stream. More than once, a branch or prickly bush hit her in the face. She didn’t know if it was an accident, or if Etienne had heard her coming and was deliberately impeding her progress.

Talk about going back to nature. This whole area could use a good industrial-size weed-zapper, or a bulldozer. “Where’s a machete when a girl needs one?” Harriet mumbled.

Etienne halted and she almost ran into his back. “A ma
chete?” He propped his hands on his hips. “I’ve tolerated way too much abuse from you, sweetheart. Whacks over the head with a satchel and an oar. Dunking in a stream. But I draw the line at being a chopping block for your machete.”

“Don’t be silly—”

“I warned you about calling me silly.”

“Don’t be irrational then. I merely wanted a machete to cut down some of this jungle.”

“Lady, I do not need you to raze my jungle. And I most definitely do not want to see a sharp weapon in your hands. When, or if, this land gets cleared, it will be by me and no one else.” He jabbed a forefinger at her. “Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“And stop following me.” He walked away.

“Then stand still.”

“No. If I stand still, I’ll remember that I’m harder than a poker,” he said over his shoulder. “And it’s not my own fire I’ve a mind to stoke.”

She gasped. Damn, but this guy had a knack for making her feel like a quivering virgin, over and over.
Hey, that might make a good title for a book
. Rediscovering Your Virginity.

“Why do dumb men think sex is like air?” she twittered nervously, trying for a counterdefensive.

A small twitch near his right eye was his only reaction.

“It’s no big thing till they aren’t getting any.”

“
Merde!
” he muttered under his breath.

Harriet couldn’t see Etienne’s face as she stumbled to keep up with his wide strides, but she was pretty sure he was angry. And he had a right to be. He’d been through a lot today. And most of his pain and confusion had been brought on by her. He had to be confused by his relationship with Saralee. “Seriously, I need to talk to you,” she tried again.

“Seriously, you’ve talked enough.”

“Etienne, it’s about Saralee. You can’t just—”

“Aaarrgh!” He stopped and pressed his forehead against a tree, breathing deeply. When he finally looked at her again, his eyes were dark and stormy. “Are you still here?
Sacrebleu!
Don’t push me any further, Harriet. I acknowledged my daughter. Isn’t that sufficient for you?”

“No,” she said weakly. Her first inclination was to back down. Accepting paternity for Saralee
was
a major breakthrough for Etienne, especially after all these years. She would like to leave him alone to digest all the new feelings that must be assailing him. But she had Saralee to consider, as well. And the little girl needed her father now. “You can’t just tell a child that you’re her father. You need to
be
a father, as well.”