The Lure of White Oak Lake (3 page)

~~~

In less than an hour, Morgan’s yard was abuzz with activity. Harlan was cutting, Clarke was bush hogging with his tractor, and his two grandsons Wade and Scott along with Austin were stacking the wood that was being cut into a pile in the vacant lot next to the cabin. Every time Morgan tried to do something, someone would run her off and say, “Relax, we have this.”

“Welcome, neighbor,” a woman said as she approached Morgan while she stood in the driveway, not sure what to do with herself. “I’m Betsy Schaffer, you just call me Betsy.” She pressed a dish into Morgan’s hand. “That’s fresh chicken salad. I figured you’d need it for the troops. I’m so glad you’ve moved in. Tell me, will you be staying here or is this just a vacation spot for you? Where’re you from? Are you alone?”

Morgan blinked at the barrage of questions. “This is home for me right now.” She held up the dish. “Thank you for this.”

“Think nothing of it,” Betsy said with a wave. “You said, ‘for right now.’ Does that mean you have plans to leave?”

“I’m kind of in transition.”

Betsy smiled kindly. “Well, darling, you’ve come to the right place. Harlan and I moved here when we were barely out of our teens. We started out in a little camper trailer and eventually built the house. The first time we came to this town, we fell in love with it and the people, and we’ve never wanted to leave. Maybe in time you won’t, either.”

Morgan smiled and nodded. If she were frugal, she had enough to live on for three years, thanks to her savings and the money her father left for her and Brad. But the second she found a job, White Oak Lake would be history, and the cabin she would give to Brad.

“We’re directly across the street. Ida and Clarke Pochet are over there. They just finished building this spring.” Betsy pointed to the house beside hers. Then to the mobile home on the other side with a driveway lined in hot pink milk jugs and an overgrown flower bed edged in multicolored painted cans. “That’s Clarice Minden’s place. She’s a little…eccentric…but very nice. We’re the best of friends. The house right next to yours is vacant most of the time. Kyle and Linda Landry use it for a camp, but they just had a new grandbaby and haven’t been around for a while. And then there’s Chet Aucoin’s place a little bit down the way from Clarice’s. The house across the street from The Lure belongs to Skip and Rene Crawford. All good people. We tend to stick close together here, but the folks on the other side of the lake are just as nice.”

Betsy seemed to have not taken a breath the entire time she was speaking, and Morgan wondered if she planned to point to every house on the lake and give a brief history of each one. “I’m Morgan Chassion, by the way.”

“Oh, I know, Austin told us. So nice to meet you.” Betsy smiled brightly. “So it’s just you then, right?”

Morgan nodded as Betsy’s gaze flickered over her.

“You’ll have to meet Jaclyn, she’s Austin’s mother, and I suspect y’all are about the same age. She runs The Lure and lives in the house on the other side of the store. Nice woman, very nice.” Betsy patted Morgan’s arm. “I’ve got a couple of pies in the oven. When they’re done, I’ll bring them over. Keep these men fed, and they’ll renovate the entire house,” she said, then headed toward the road. She turned on one heel and with a big smile asked, “Honey, are you married?”

“Um, no,” Morgan said.

“Divorced then?”

“No, I’ve never been married,” Morgan said politely, though she resented the invasive questioning. But her answer seemed to please Betsy, and her grin grew wider as she turned and walked away with almost a spring in her step.

Morgan looked down at the dish in her hand. She had a few canned goods, tomatoes, and some bottled water in the fridge. Aside from the chicken salad, that was it. “Hey, Austin?”

“Ma’am,” he said as he glanced her way.

“I’m going to run down to the store and pick up drinks and ice. Would you let the others know?”

He nodded. “Say hi to my mom if you see her.”

Morgan put the chicken salad in the refrigerator, jotted down a quick list of the things she felt she needed, then headed for The Lure.

“Well, hello again,” the man behind the counter said with a wave as Morgan walked in. “I see you found us.”

“Thanks to your directions, Chet,” Morgan said gratefully.

“Everybody, this is Morgan Chassion.”

“Aaaaaeeeee,” one of three men sitting at a small group of tables sang out. “Chassion, dat’s coon ass, yeah. Where ya people from,
cher
?”

Morgan grinned at the term she hadn’t heard in a long time. When she was young and jotted a note to her father, she’d spelled it shaa, the way it was pronounced. The first time her father corrected her and showed her the actual spelling
cher
, she was blown away. “Baton Rouge.”

“But she’s been living in Atlanta.” Chet’s comment brought on grunts and groans of disapproval.

“Glad you came back to your senses. Georgia ain’t got the crawfish like we do, no.” The guy who was doing all the talking for the group patted his chest. His tanned skin was almost the color of his dark hair, and he had a pair of bright blue eyes that stood out in contrast. “I’m Skip Crawford,” he pointed to his right, “dat’s RJ, his real name is Rufus Jewel, so you know now why he goes by RJ.” Skip laughed when RJ took off his hat and hit him upside the head with it. “Dis here’s Todd Melancon, he lives nearby in Jeanerette.”

“Nice to meet you all.”

Skip pushed out a chair. “You wanna sit down?” he asked in his strong Cajun accent. “We don’t bite, but we all married, so don’t be makin’ no love eyes.”

Morgan smiled. “That’s good to know. I’ll try to behave myself.” She held up her list. “I’d better get started on this. I have a lot of people working in my yard right now.” Morgan’s boots thudded on the wooden floors as she moved down the aisles. There were no shopping carts, so she filled her arms with as many bottles of sports drinks as she could carry and took them to the front. “Can I leave these on the counter while I get the rest of the stuff?”

“Well, sure.” Chet stepped from behind the register. “Let me help you. What ya got next?”

“Paper plates and towels, plastic cups.”

“Over here.” Chet led the way. By the time Morgan had checked off everything on her list, the front counter was piled high with bread, chips, drinks, and paper goods.

“I’ll need a bag of ice, too,” Morgan said. “Is it inside or outside?”

“Outside, next to the dock.”

Morgan turned toward the female voice with a slight Cajun accent expecting to see someone like her with olive skin and dark hair. There was no sign of Cajun French heritage in the blonde who stared back at her with blue eyes that were almost gray. Morgan recognized the thin nose and mouth. “You’re Austin’s mother, aren’t you?”

“Jaclyn Wyatt,” she said as she put out her hand.

“Morgan Chassion from Atlanta, raised in Baton Rouge,” Chet answered in Morgan’s place as he pointed at all the bottles of sports drinks. “She got folks workin’ in her yard, and she don’t know nothin’ about sweet tea.”

Morgan raised a brow as she regarded him.

“Sweet tea is very important around here.” Jaclyn looked over Morgan’s shoulder to the orange Jeep parked outside. “Is that yours?”

Morgan followed her gaze and nodded.

“Skip, do me a favor and put five or six jugs of tea in that Jeep.” Jaclyn returned her attention to Morgan. “Sweet tea is the language of love in White Oak, especially during the summer and most of the winter. Give them the sports drinks and water while they work and the tea later when they’re done or when they eat. Never beer, unless the work is done.” Jaclyn smiled and looked at RJ and Todd. “They’ll get drunk, cook up whatever they kill in your yard, and worse, they’ll never leave.”

“Oh, bull, Jaclyn,” RJ said, “you make us sound like dogs. You know we share da squirrel and rabbit.”

“See what I mean,” Jaclyn said under her breath. “I assume my son is down there in the middle of things.”

Morgan nodded. “He is. Actually, he’s the one that invited everyone over. They all came and just started working. I feel like a mooch.”

“Accept the help, Morgan, it’s what we do,” Chet said as he rang up the items she placed on the counter.

“Don’t charge her for the tea,” Jaclyn said, “that’s my housewarming gift.” She raised a finger when Morgan opened her mouth. “Don’t argue, just accept, like Chet said. You won’t fit in unless you let people be nice to you. That’s how things work around here.”

“Well, thank you,” Morgan said, feeling a little embarrassed. “How do I show my appreciation?”

“The tea. That and conversation go a long way. I’ll come down in a little while and make sure Austin’s behaving. One thing you should know about him is that he’ll say just about anything that crosses his mind. Don’t be afraid to call him on it if he gets out of hand.”

“He’s been very polite,” Morgan said as she put her money on the counter.

Skip rounded the corner with three jugs of tea in his hands. “RJ, get off your ass, boy, and go get more tea, and, Todd, carry the lady’s bags.” Skip looked at Morgan and rolled his eyes. “I got to tell ’em everything.”

Jaclyn smiled when Morgan turned back to her. “Welcome to White Oak.”

“Thanks,” Morgan said gratefully.

Skip and RJ were admiring Morgan’s Jeep when she stepped outside. Todd dug the ice out of the freezer and dropped it on the floor of the backseat. “This is a nice ride, Morgan. You off-road?”

“I’ve never put it in four-wheel drive. I love it because it sits high, and I can take the top off.”

“You ever want to take it to da mud, you let me know.” He pointed at the house across the street. “I live right there. We’d all be down there helping in your yard, but we’re about to go check on my boat. I got a little shrimpin’ business. If you ever wanna go out on the water, let me know. Maybe if you go, Jaclyn will, too. I been tryin’ to get her out there for years.”

Todd and RJ exchanged glances and grinned. Morgan wondered if maybe Skip, the married man, had a thing for Jaclyn.

“I’ll think about that, thanks for the offer.”

“See ya later,” Skip said as he and the boys went back inside.

Morgan hopped into the driver’s seat and waved at Jaclyn as she stood in the window watching her. Austin’s mother was a cutie, and Morgan had always had a thing for blondes. Jaclyn’s hair was all one length and lay just at her shoulders. Morgan wondered how it would feel to sift her fingers through it before she caught herself. She didn’t intend to be here long, so there was no sense in starting something new, even though she’d gotten the vibe that she and Jaclyn had their sexuality in common.

F
ine woman,” Chet said as the others walked back into the store.

Jaclyn watched the Jeep leave the lot. “Yeah, she seems nice.” She turned around and noticed the smile on Chet’s face and steeled herself for what she knew was coming next.

“Didn’t see a ring on her finger,” Chet said. “Not too feminine. I wonder—”

“Don’t start.” But Jaclyn’s warning was ignored by the others.

Todd jumped in. “You look good standing side by side. Y’all are almost the same size. You ain’t gonna have to bend down to kiss that one good night.”

“She got a nice smile. I saw it a lot when she was talkin’ to you, Jac.” Skip put a hand to his ear. “Oh, what’s dat? Weddin’ bells, do I hear?”

Jaclyn took the ribbing good-naturedly and gave Skip a playful shove. “Why are you in such a hurry to pair me up with every woman that passes through town?”

“Because my Rene say I spend too much time here in dis store. She know it ain’t the coffee, it’s no good. She know it ain’t the boudin, hers is better. So it must be the company I keep. Dat little woman’s gonna come in here with a pitchfork one day and put it to both of our asses.”

“Just yours, Skip. She knows I’m not after her man.”

“Jaclyn don’t want no man,” Skip said, looking at the others. “She shoot, she fish, she crab, and do it all with a pretty face. A face dat had o’ Morgan smiling, yeah. We gonna sit back and watch the love happen.
Laissez les bon temps rouler
, let dem good times roll, yeah.”

“I’m leaving before Skip picks out my wedding dress. I’m sure it would be adorned with crawfish, shotgun shells, and empty beer cans.” Jaclyn stopped at the door. “Thanks, Chet, I needed the break.”

“You got it, baby.”

Jaclyn could hear Skip and the others laughing as she made a retreat. She was thankful that everyone took her sexuality in stride, but it had not always been that way. She’d caused quite a stir in town when she’d been caught in the act with a woman she’d met in a neighboring town. She learned a lot that night, like Carolyn Dunn had insomnia, and liked to take walks when she couldn’t sleep. She also learned it wasn’t wise to get caught up in the heat of the moment because good sense tends to lapse. It’d been her idea to park behind the power company office. Carolyn Dunn, being nosy, peeked into the car she didn’t recognize and got an eyeful.

That was bad enough because Carolyn told everyone in town, and the news spread to neighboring towns. A jealous husband heard the story, recognized the description of the car, and unfortunately, his wife. Jaclyn was unaware that Gwyneth was married, but when her angry spouse showed up at The Lure looking for the woman who had “forced herself” on his wife, it was revelation time for Jaclyn and her grandmother, who had not heard Carolyn’s tale.

The confrontation brought in the police and just about everyone in town. In an effort to protect Jaclyn, Carolyn told Gwyneth’s husband in startling detail what she’d witnessed, and the encounter was obviously mutual. Two things stopped Jaclyn from being throttled that day—Skip, who happened to be at the right place at the right time, and Carolyn’s embarrassing testimony.

That was the problem with White Oak—nothing ever happened there. No one was ever robbed at gunpoint, no houses ever broken into. There was an occasional rumor that Clarice Minden was growing marijuana amongst the other herbs behind her house, but that was all the excitement there was in the sleepy little town. So when Jaclyn was literally caught with her pants down, the gossip mill churned at a frantic pace.