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He’d excused himself from Willa and Lorna so he could follow Lacey inside. He wanted to see for himself that Willa O’Connor was truly a fashion model. Not that he doubted it. She was the perfect example of high fashion. He wanted to be able to stare at her without anyone noticing, and he figured finding a glossy picture of her in a magazine would do the trick until he could figure out how to be around her twenty-four hours a day and still get his work done.
Lacey shot her brother a quizzical look, then grinned. “I see you’ve met Willa.”
Lucas nodded, grabbed a fresh sweet-potato roll, then chewed thoughtfully before answering. “I didn’t just meet her. I saw her standing in the morning mist on the banks of the bayou and lost my heart to her forever.”
Lacey nodded, then went right on placing fresh fruit on a tray for the breakfast guests gathered on the back gallery. “Uh-huh. How many times have I heard you say something such as that, only to find some poor brokenhearted woman at church the next Sunday, glaring at you across the pew because you suddenly found you wanted to keep your fickle heart intact, after all?”
“Ouch, that hurts. You’re cruel, Lacey, love. Very cruel.”
“And you wouldn’t know real love if it bit you on your adorable nose,” his older sister countered as she headed out the open French doors. Then she turned to face him, all seriousness and as prim and proper as ever in her pearls and lace. “Lucas, be careful with this one, will you please? From what Lorna’s told me, Willa O’Connor is dealing with some major issues right now. She doesn’t need you pestering her with one of your obsessive but rather short-lived infatuations.”
Lucas didn’t answer her. He stood, leaning against the counter, his eyes scanning the small crowd to make sure the object of this discussion was still chatting with Lorna and Mick. And wondered what issues lay behind Willa’s incredible blue-eyed million-dollar smile.
But Lacey wasn’t finished. “Besides, I don’t think Willa is the type to fall for your irresistible charms. She’s way too smart for the likes of you. She went to school at some fancy college up north, graduated with honors.”
Leave it to Lacey to drop a zinger like that with a sweet, serene smile plastered across her classic face. Lucas let out an aggravated sigh as he watched his sister play hostess with all the ingrained manners of a true Southern lady. And wished he could do something really childish like put a lizard down her starched collar.
“Do you have a magazine?” he asked Rosie Lee Babineaux, their longtime housekeeper and cook, as she passed him on her way to the industrial-size refrigerator.
“Lucas, Lucas,” Rosie Lee replied, laughing so hard her shoulders shook. “You need to put your eyeballs back in your head, hein?”
“Am I that obvious?”
“You got the look,” Rosie Lee told him, wagging a finger at him, her Cajun accent twice as distinctive as his.
“And what look would that be, chère?”
“That Lucas look,” Rosie Lee explained, rolling her eyes. “The one you get whenever a pretty woman is anywhere within five miles of you.”
Lucas knew she was right. But, hey, he was having fun with it, so why couldn’t everyone lay off? “I just want to investigate things a bit further,” he explained. “Maybe hang a picture of her near my pillow, so I can gaze at her with adoration….”
Rosie Lee’s burst of laughter stopped him. She had to wipe her eyes, but she lifted a hand toward a set of swinging doors. “I think Em left a few fancy magazines in our sitting room. Go see.”
Lucas took off like a rocket, heading into the small family room tucked off the kitchen, a place where he’d spent many happy hours with the Babineaux clan since he’d arrived, nine years old and scared to death, at Bayou le Jardin. Falling across a worn plaid couch that had been salvaged and cleaned since the spring floods, he remembered feeling safe here in this little room that had at one time been servants’ quarters. He’d naturally blended right in with the six Babineaux children. To the point that they’d included him as one of their own—just like another son, even though he was a few years older than their four boys and two girls.
Glancing around, Lucas remembered Tobias Babineaux, or Big Tobbie, as everyone called him, teaching him all about the dark, mysterious swamp waters that ran behind the grounds of Bayou le Jardin. Tobbie had taken Lucas under his wing, teaching him how to hunt and fish and track, teaching him how to show respect to Mother Nature and how to stand up for what he believed in, teaching him how to survive.
And Lucas had drunk it all in, wanting very much to survive, but always, always challenging life in the midst of learning his lessons well.
A daredevil. That’s what they’d called him.
Reckless. Juvenile. Too full of life for his own good. That’s what he’d always heard about himself.
Too full of life. So full of life that he dared anyone or anything to change that fact.
Even God.
And because of that reckless, careless streak, Lucas had come close, so close to getting into serious trouble over the years, that he’d reached the point where everyone just left him to it—as if they’d all given up on changing him.
But that didn’t stop his loving sisters from reminding him on a daily basis of his shortcomings.
“Why start worrying about that now?” he said with a shrug as he looked around for the much-coveted magazine. Right now, he wouldn’t dwell on how lousy he’d felt since the spring night all those months ago when he’d left Lorna alone in the mansion, in the dark.
He wouldn’t stop to think about what she must have suffered before Mick had found her there. And saved her from herself.
“It should have been me,” Lucas said as he reached into a cabinet and grabbed a handful of tattered fashion magazines.
But then again, Lucas knew in his heart it had to be Mick. Mick Love had fallen in love with his sister in spite of her fears and her self-doubts. And Lucas had accepted that, welcomed it. It was only fitting that Mick be the one to come to Lorna’s aid, to bring her such strength in her faith and herself again. But still…Lucas couldn’t get past that night.
And the promise he had made to his sisters so long ago, on another dark, storm-tossed night.
“Did you find it?”
Lucas looked up to see Rosie Lee’s round, olive-skinned face smiling at him, her long black, silver-streaked braid swinging over one shoulder. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked, a teasing light in her dark eyes.
“I hope so,” Lucas said, winking at her as he made a point of lazily flipping through the pages of a thick magazine. Then more to himself than her, he repeated his wish. “I certainly hope so.”
“So, now you’ve heard all the news about us,” Lorna said to Willa. “It’s your turn.”
Willa sank back against the soft floral cushions of her chair, a fork in one hand while she pretended to eat more breakfast. True, she had managed to down some fresh strawberries and cantaloupe and a freshly baked, grain-rich roll. But she couldn’t force herself to eat anything more, in spite of her friend’s best efforts.
Hoping to keep the focus of the conversation off herself, Willa glanced across the table at Lorna and Mick. “Even though I missed your wedding because of that shoot in Spain, I’m so happy for both of you. Surviving a tornado and then a flood, only to find each other…that’s a remarkable story.”
Lorna looked at her husband. “Yes, very remarkable, considering how I resisted Mick from the first day.”
“But it was love at first sight for me, I think,” Mick replied, his hand reaching for his wife. “We’ve been through a lot together, that’s for sure. My whole life changed once I set foot on this old plantation.”
Willa was amazed that Mick Love had been willing to pick up and move to be with the woman he loved. She’d never known a man with that type of commitment, a man willing to give up everything, change his whole lifestyle because of being in love. Her mother had done that all these years, followed the man she loved, but Willa had to wonder, if it were the other way around, would her father have done the same? She doubted it, so she had to question Mick further. “And you didn’t mind—moving here, relocating your business?”
“Why should I?” Mick said, his hand trailing through Lorna’s hair. “I didn’t really have anything to lose. Business is better than ever, I’ve got a wonderful wife to come home to each night, and hey, my best friend even relocated here with me and married the woman of his dreams, too. He’s training to be a fireman.”
“It must be the coffee,” Willa said, laughing. Maybe that would explain why she kept looking for Lucas to come to the table. He’d hopped up a few minutes ago, excused himself with a flourish, then disappeared inside the kitchen. And why did she care?
“There is something about Bayou le Jardin,” Mick agreed, finishing his brew. “It…can heal all wounds.”
Lorna nodded. “Aunt Hilda—you met her earlier, before she headed off to work—firmly believes that we are all closer to Christ here in this garden. She takes her troubles to Him and she’s taught us to do the same.”
Mick shrugged. “But it took a tornado and a flood for me to understand that concept.”
“You really believe that?” Willa asked, wishing with all her heart that Mick was right. She needed to be healed, both physically and spiritually. “That God somehow had a hand in bringing you here?”
Mick got up, looked at Lorna, then nodded. “Oh, yeah. I’m a believer now.” With that, he kissed his wife. “And…I’ve gotta get to work. Justin needs some help with a little pruning, then I have to ride into Kenner to do an estimate on that remodeling work we’ve been discussing.” He lifted a hand. “We’re still trying to get this place back the way it was before the storms. And that is going to take some doing, considering we still have some water damage.” He touched Lorna’s hair again. “I probably won’t be back in my office in town for a few hours, so I’ll see you later this afternoon, okay?”
“Okay,” Lorna replied, her gaze filled with love as she kissed her husband. “Don’t work too hard.”
Mick grinned, then waved to Willa. “Hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you,” Willa told him. After he left, she sighed long and hard. “Lorna, he’s…”
“Perfect?” Lorna asked, her expression dreamy and serene. “Mick has helped me in more ways than I ever dreamed possible. He’s brought me peace, made me feel secure, helped me get over my fear of the dark. He still has to travel a good bit, but I’m okay with that—it’s part of his job. And sometimes I take off and head out with him.”
“I’m so glad,” Willa told her, meaning it. “I envy you.”
“Don’t,” Lorna replied, concern bringing a frown to her face. “You can find happiness, too, Willa. I know it. I believe that now—I didn’t believe in happily ever after before.”
“But you’re in love, married to the perfect man. That tends to change one’s perspective on these things.”
“Actually, Mick is far from perfect, but he’s a good, decent man and…just like Mick, I truly believe God brought us together here in this old garden.”
Willa was much too cynical and jaded to believe that. She’d seen too many broken relationships, been a part of too many herself, to ever believe there was such a thing as a lifetime love between two destined people. Fate was way too fickle for that to happen.
Then she looked up to find Lucas Dorsette leaning against a rounded white column, his eyes centered on her, his expression a mixture of curious charm and conquering hero. He gave her a soul-searing smile, then lowered his head, appearing to be completely engrossed in a magazine.
“What’s the story with your adorable brother?” she asked Lorna. “Does he break hearts by the week, or only on a monthly installment?”
Lorna shot her hovering brother a long look. “Oh, Lucas breaks hearts on a daily basis. I think every single woman at church has tried to win him over to matrimony, but our Lucas is a sly one. He can see them coming a mile away, so he flirts with them, teases them, makes them think they are the only one, and then he moves on. He treats women like flowers, picking them and enjoying them until they wilt away, then he discards them for another fresh bloom.”
Willa studied Lucas, glad she was immune to charming, shallow men, but somehow disappointed to hear that Lucas might be that way. “You certainly don’t paint him in a very pretty light.”
“Just being honest with you,” Lorna replied. “Lucas is a wonderful person, the best brother in the world, and I love him dearly. But…he doesn’t take life very seriously.”
“Maybe we could all learn a lesson from that,” Willa replied, thinking she took everything far too seriously for her own good. Which was why she was in such turmoil right now.
Lorna nodded. “As long as you remember, with Lucas, it’s all a big game. Enjoy it while you’re here, Willa, but just be forewarned. My brother will never settle down.”
Willa groaned, then shrugged. “I’m not looking to settle down. You of all people should know I’m not here looking for love, and I certainly have no intention of trying to snare your elusive brother.”
Lorna reached out a hand to her. “I know. You need to find some peace and quiet, and you really need to rest…and take care of yourself. We can’t forget your reasons for coming here. I just don’t want my beautiful brother interfering with that process.”
“Why can’t I be part of the process?” Lucas said from behind them, making both of them jump.
Willa sat bolt upright. She’d only looked away for a minute. How had he moved so quickly and so quietly?
Another thing to remember about Lucas Dorsette, she supposed.
Lorna didn’t bat an eye as she got up. “You can be a lot of things while Willa is here,” she told her brother. “A companion, a tour guide, a security guard. But Willa needs to—”
“I know, I know,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “Willa needs her rest. Willa needs to be left alone. Willa needs to know that Lucas is walking trouble and not worth a minute of her time. Did I leave anything out?”
Lorna reached out a hand to touch his face. “That just about covers it.” Then she kissed him on the cheek. “I know I can trust you, so be nice.”
Lucas grabbed his sister’s hand, his gaze changing with mercurial speed from teasing to intense. “Do you know that, really? Can I be trusted?”
Lorna tightened her hand in his. “Yes, you can. I’ve always trusted you, Lucas. And I know what you’re thinking. But…I’m fine. I’m great. Mick is taking good care of me, and we’re very happy. So stop worrying.”
Confused by the exchange, Willa felt uncomfortable. As if she’d stepped into an intimate setting where she didn’t belong. But then, she’d never been so close to another person that she could share a sort of language, the way Lorna and Lucas seemed to talk to each other. Almost in riddles, but they both seemed to understand each other exactly.
She’d noticed that about them, and Lacey, too. She knew they’d survived a terrible horror only to grow up secure in their faith and to become closer as a family. Sharing that kind of bond had held them together, but as Lorna had told her months ago when she’d called Willa to invite her to the wedding, perhaps that bond had also held them captive.
And yet, Willa wished she’d had some sort of bond to make her closer to her parents. They’d never really been a family, the three of them. They’d coexisted in a big, rambling house. That is, whenever they were there together.
Family. The word always made Willa flinch. Oh, she had a family. A mother and father who adored her but who also wanted to control her. But she’d never really felt loved, for some strange reason. Not in the way Lorna seemed loved, at least.
She envied her friend. And longed to get to know the intriguing Lucas Dorsette.
“Me, worry?” Lucas shrugged and lifted his dark brows, bringing Willa’s thoughts to the present. “Never.”
“I have to get to the restaurant and start things for the lunch crowd,” Lorna said to Willa. “Will you be okay?”
“I think I’m going to wander around in the gardens,” Willa told her, intensely aware that Lucas was watching her. “Maybe finally read that thick romance novel I’ve been carting around for months now.”
“We’re still recovering from the flood,” Lucas said, his hand lifting in an arc. “But I’d be happy to show you some of the more beautiful spots.”
“That sounds nice.” She glanced at Lorna, saw no censure in her friend’s eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.
She’d been warned about Lucas Dorsette too many times to care. She didn’t understand why his sisters seemed so concerned that he’d break her heart. She’d turned down suitors from all over the world, after all. Playboys, a prince or two, politicians, they’d all courted her and some had tried to corrupt her. But luckily, the one thing her distant, worldly parents had instilled in her was a sense of caution and integrity—an O’Connor could never bring shame or scandal to the family honor. It simply wasn’t permitted.
And because Ambassador Eugene O’Connor and his lovely wife, Candace, had frowned on their daughter’s choice of careers, Willa had at least tried to stay out of trouble and stay away from the many temptations lurking in the world of high fashion.
Would her parents approve of Lucas Dorsette? Hardly. But she was only going to be here for a short time, and her parents were far away, traveling yet again. Willa was an adult, after all. She could take care of herself; she’d been doing it for most of her life. So she wasn’t afraid of spending a few mindless days with Lucas Dorsette.
He seemed harmless enough.
As long as they both kept their perspective, of course. As long as she remembered Lucas liked to keep things light.
Well, so did she.
She wouldn’t let the legendary gardens of Bayou le Jardin mess with her head.
And she wouldn’t let the legendary Lucas Dorsette mess with her heart.
But when he took her hand and pulled her down a cool, shaded path dripping with ancient hot-pink crape myrtle trees, Willa had a feeling it was already too late to turn back.
Chapter Three
He was taking her off the beaten path.
“Where are we going?” Willa asked Lucas as they moved away from the house and closer to the bayou.
Here the vegetation grew more lush, green and rich, thriving in spite of the summer heat. The smell of wet earth and brackish water mingled with the scent of honeysuckle and wild-blooming jasmine. The mid-morning sun played a game of chance as it tried to pierce the cool shadows cast by the tall, moss-draped cypress trees.
“You’ll see,” he told her, his hand in hers as he pulled her down the winding path.
“At least it’s cooler here.”
“One of the many beautiful things about Bayou le Jardin. There’s plenty of cool spots, even in the middle of summer. And I happen to know where they all are.”
Willa noticed the creepers surrounding the narrowing path—the English ivy that grew wild and free, the ancient camellia bushes and sweet-smelling lilies. She could hear bees buzzing hungrily in the dense garden. She could hear a child’s laughter ringing out from the house. Probably that cute little Tobias—the little boy Lucas had rescued during the flood.
