In Shining Whatever (Three Magic Words Trilogy #2)(63)

"Hoe cake?" he asked.

"Cornbread or biscuit?"

He found the charcoal and carried it back outside. "Either one is fine with me."

She added brown sugar, mustard, ketchup, and onion flakes to two cans of pork and beans, and put them on to simmer. When the water for the macaroni began to boil, she prepared it and set it on a cast-iron trivet to keep it warm. She mixed all the spices together and was very grateful for the pound of butter that Minnette had put in the bag. She melted one stick of butter and flopped each fillet into it.

She carried the bowl of fish out to the porch and handed it to Hart. His hand brushed hers, and she wasn't even surprised at the jolt that passed between them or the way his eyes went soft when he looked at her. That they were attracted to each other wasn't an issue. That much was a given. It was the idea of a forever thing like Fancy talked about.

"Take the grills off and put this right down on the coals when they get hot. You want real blackened fish, this is the way to do it."

He obeyed and watched in amazement as she deftly turned white fillets into blackened fish. That done, she put the grills back on the hibachi and set a small cast-iron skillet on top, added a pat of butter, and poured in cornbread mixture when the butter was hot.

He helped carry the food to the table. They sat down and he bowed his head, expecting her to ask him to say grace.

"Father, receive our thanks for this food and this day. Bless both. Amen," she said.

"You mean that?" he asked as he heaped his plate.

"What?"

"Thanking God for this day?"

"I think I do," she said.

"Why?"

"Could be worse. I could be in the morgue"

He shivered. "Don't say things like that"

"Why, Hart Ducaine, are you superstitious?" She laughed, and it was music to his ears.

"Yes, ma'am, I am that. I always did the exact same thing when I rode a bull. Chewed the same brand of gum. Carried the same things in my pockets. Called my mother five minutes before I went to the arena," he admitted.

"And if you didn't? Did it make a difference?"

"Never did give it a chance," he said. "How about you? Superstitious or not?"

"Think, man! Maw Maw and her voodoo cronies? I'm half Cajun"

"That mean yes?"

"No! I was just jerking you around. I'm not superstitious at all. I think we make our own fate and answer for our own choices."

"That, darlin', we agree on, for sure," he said.





Kate looked for Bubba or Claud all day. In the evening, mists rose from the swamp and covered the island in a thin blanket of fog. Even in that, she had no doubt either of them could find their way through the cypress knees to the boat dock. But bedtime came, and they didn't.

She took another shower to cool her sweaty skin and slipped into a clean white nightshirt. Two days, and now it would be three nights. Surely Maw Maw hadn't died and the rest of the family forgotten about her stranded on the island.

"Good night, Hart," she said, and rolled over to face the wall.

God was punishing Kate; she felt like a second-grader who had disappointed her teacher. Before she could dwell on that thought, Maw Maw's Cajun accent whispered in her ear as softly as if she'd truly slipped into the room.

God isn't punishing you, no. Only t'ing you done wrong was trustin' in a boy, but he's a man now, yes. You got unfinished business, child. Finish it, and you'll have the peace you crave.

I'm trying, Maw Maw. I really am. I want him to hold me so bad, but I want my three magic words. They might be silly, but I want them. Fancy got hers, and someday Sophie will find someone to give her life after wife. I want my knight in shining whatever, and Hart isn't a knight.

You be sure, yes. He might be one of those whatever t'ings, yes. Finish the business. Good night, Kate.

Kate stole glances all around the room, but Maw Maw hadn't slipped onto the island. At least, not in body. Unfinished business. Kate faced her soul in that moment and realized she would never know what was down the pathway with Hart at the end if she didn't take it.

She was going home to Texas for a month before giving Laysard an answer. If the position had to be filled before that, then so be it. But she wasn't ready to stay in Louisiana.

Of course, she had no intention of making life easy for Hart by telling him that when the morning dawned. It might not work out at all, but when she was Maw Maw's age, by golly, she wouldn't be looking back with regrets. Laysard's job was a paycheck, and she could get one of those anywhere.

She slept the sleep reserved for innocent children and old Southern women who only remembered the good things in their past. When she awoke it was to the aroma of coffee. She opened her eyes to find Hart sitting on the side of the bed with a cup of steaming coffee right under her nose.

She sat up and took it from him. "Thank you."

"Fire is started. Coffee is made. Didn't know what you wanted to do about food this morning. It's raining," he said.

"So you've never fished in the rain. It's just water. It won't melt you"

"They bite in the rain?"

"It's water. They live in it. They're hungry, they bite," she said.

"We've still got catfish left from last night, and beans. Want it for breakfast?" The day was totally gray, with the mists still hovering on the ground and soft rain falling from a sky the same color as the mist. Catfish and beans didn't sound so bad for breakfast. In her working days she had eaten cold pizza, jambalaya, gumbo, and a multitude of other things right from the refrigerator.