Page 24 of Cursed (Decorah Security 2.0, #14)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Morgan went into a martial arts crouch, ready to fight off whoever had grabbed her.

It was Janet, and the woman’s eyes widened as she stared at Morgan’s defensive stance.

“Don’t …hurt me, child,” she quavered. “I didn’t mean anything … bad.”

“Why did you grab me?”

“You were going out. Like that woman wanted you to do.”

“The priestess?”

“Yes.”

“I’m still going out,” Morgan corrected.

“You can’t.”

“Andre’s out there. She may be after him.”

“He can take care of himself,” Janet snapped.

“But …”

“Andre can take care of himself,” Janet repeated. “It’s important for you to stay inside—where you’re safe.”

“Why?”

The housekeeper gave her a long look and answered with what she had said before. “Because he needs you.”

“For what?”

Janet continued to stare at her. “You have to figure that out for yourself.”

The woman’s words were spoken in a low, quiet voice. But they hit Morgan with a staggering force. The chanting from outside wrapped itself around her. “What are you doing to me? All of you?” she gasped.

“You have to be strong,” Janet said softly.

“I thought I was strong. Now …”

“Go back to your room. Get some rest. You have a lot to face in the morning.”

“How do you know?”

Janet hesitated, then said, “I have the sight.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s in my blood. Not like my cousins, but I know things.”

“What things?”

“That you should be in bed now.”

Maybe it was the firm way Janet said it, but Morgan turned around and went back to her room.

With fingers that felt thick and clumsy, she pulled off her shoes and pants. She was feeling strange and muzzy headed as she started for bed. Then a thought crept into her mind and lodged there. The robe was in the closet. She should put on the robe.

The robe? She had told herself she was never going to wear it again.

Now a strange sense of purpose gripped her as she walked to the closet and fumbled through the hangers.

When her fingers closed over the shoulder of the garment, she sighed with relief and pleasure.

Pulling it off the hanger, she shoved her arms through the sleeves, then quickly fastened the buttons.

The robe seemed to hold her in an embrace, heating her skin, soothing her soul in a way that she was at a loss to explain. She felt like she had come home, come back to herself.

Gratefully, she tottered to the bed, crawled in and pulled the covers up to her chin. Within moments, she was sleeping soundly.

The fates let her rest for a while. Then she awoke. Not in the here and now. In another woman’s life—the woman she had visited twice before. She was Linette again, standing in the garden patch outside her cabin, looking toward the bayou, watching the rain fall, waiting for her love.

She knew he had been in New Orleans, making arrangements. He had said he would come back for her. But he had been gone for days, and now she was worried about him.

She had secretly packed some of her belongings. Her fate was out of her hands now. All she could do was wait.

She had a little of the second sight her aunt possessed. And sometimes it told her that it was better if he simply went away and left her here. She kept thinking that something terrible was going to happen if she went away with Andre. To her. To him. In the future.

But if he came, she knew she would be helpless to do anything besides follow her heart. She loved him. She wanted to make a home for him. Do all the things a wife could do for her husband. Have his children. Grow old with him.

She was heading back inside when the sound of horses’ hooves outside made her go rigid.

Looking out the window, she saw a stallion come out of the bayou. She knew the animal, knew the rider. It was Andre on Richelieu.

She flew toward him. By the time she reached him, he had dismounted and tied the reins to the branch of a pine tree. Turning he caught her in his arms. She melted against him as he gathered her close. The rain was falling on them, and he moved her under the shelter of the branches.

“I’m sorry, angel. I’m sorry I took so long. But I wanted to make sure we could leave New Orleans as soon as we arrived in town. There’s a ship down at the docks waiting for us. We’re going to San Francisco. We can live there.”

“San Francisco. That’s so far away. Are you sure?” she whispered.

He tightened his hold on her, then set her away from him so he could look into her eyes.

“Yes. I’ve made all the arrangements. I sent inquiries to several cities.

One of the universities offered me a job.

So, we don’t have to worry about that. And I have some good ideas for books I want to write.

” He dragged in a breath and let it out in a rush.

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you? ”

“I want to be with you,” she breathed. “I haven’t changed my mind about that.”

“But?” he pressed.

“I’m frightened,” she said in a small voice.

“Of what? Your family? My father? I’m taking you where they can never touch us. And we’ll be free to love each other.”

“I know. You’re so smart. I could never have planned something like this in secret.”

He laughed. “No. You’re too honest. Too straightforward.”

She was hardly listening. “I don’t know what you see in me.”

“I love you. I look at you, and I see all the good, warm, gentle things that I never had in my life—until I met you.”

“Oh Andre.” She lifted her arms, bringing his head down to hers. As soon as his lips met hers, she felt a profound sense of relief. How could she be worried? He was holding her and kissing her as though he had been starving for the taste of her, and she felt the same.

She opened for him, feasting from him, thinking that no one was home, and she could take him into the house, into her bedroom. She wanted him. They would be married soon. But there was no reason to wait for the joy of making love with him.

But before she had drunk her fill, he lifted his lips, leaving her light-headed. “We have to go,” he said, his voice thick.

She knew he was right.

“Are you ready? Or do you need some time to get your things together?”

“I’m almost ready.” She went back into the cabin and brought out the small bag she had already packed.

She had known she couldn’t take much on horseback, so she had chosen carefully.

Her robe lay across the chair, and she stroked her fingers over the silky fabric.

She loved the robe, and she would have liked to take it, but she needed other things more.

A step behind her made her turn. Andre had come into the room. He walked to her, touched the robe. “You must be a sexy sight wearing that. I’d like to see it.”

She flushed.

“I’ll get you one you’ll love even more.”

“You don’t have to buy me things.”

“It will be my pleasure to buy you things. You’re going to be my wife. But we must go.”

“Yes,” she answered, her fear leaping up inside her again.

But she ignored the bad feelings. She was just nervous about leaving everything she had ever known to go off with Andre Gascon.

And feeling bad about her parents. They would be sad and angry.

But maybe later when she wrote to them and told them how happy she was, they would forgive her.

Maybe they would understand how much Andre meant to her. She trusted him with her life. When he was with her, she couldn’t believe that anything bad would happen.

So, she put a few more things into her bag, took her rain slicker from the peg by the door, then followed him out of the house.

He helped her up onto the broad back of Richelieu before climbing up behind her, holding her in his arm as he started down the road that led first to St. Germaine and then to New Orleans.

She leaned against him, reassured by his strong arm looped around her waist. When she snuggled into his embrace, he bent to stroke his lips against the side of her face.

“Soon we won’t have to sneak around. We won’t have to run away. We’ll be together always.”

“Oui,” she answered, closing her eyes, letting his soothing words lull her.

They were several miles from her house when she heard a roaring noise. She knew what it was. A sudden flood cannonballing through the bayou.

Behind her Andre cursed, then kicked his heels into the horse’s sides. “Come on, boy. Get us out of this,” he shouted as he flicked the reins.

But it was already too late. She saw a wall of water rushing toward them. Her scream was drowned out as the water hit Richelieu, sweeping both of them off the horse’s broad back and into the current.

“Linette. I’ll get you Linette,” Andre cried out.

She reached toward him, but the water swept her away, and terror engulfed her as the current pulled her under.

A terrible sick, scared feeling gripped Morgan’s chest as she woke.

At first, she had no idea where she was.

Blinking she looked around, and the bedroom at Belle Vista came into focus in the dim light.

But it was hard to anchor herself to that reality.

She was still back in the dream, in the past, feeling the water grab her and sweep her away.

It was impossible to stop herself from shaking as she sat up, then gathered up a handful of the sheet to try and ground herself.

“Oh God. Oh God.”

The words came out as a sob, and she sat, her right hand pressing against her chest as her vision blurred.

The door flew open, and someone stepped into the room. Through the mist of tears, she saw that it was Andre. His hair was disheveled, and he looked like he’d been tramping through the swamp all night.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asked urgently. He looked around the room. “Is someone here?”

His gaze probed the shadows. Charging toward the bathroom, he threw the door open. When he found it empty, he started searching the closet.

“No,” she managed to gasp out. “No one’s here.”

“Then what is it?”