Mischief in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #2)(14)

Sabine stared at Hank. “Maryse told you about my cancer?”

Hank looked stricken. “Oh, crap, you didn’t know. She probably didn’t want to get your hopes up in case she couldn’t find me or something. Shit. I can’t seem to do anything without causing trouble.” He sighed. “Maryse didn’t tell me. She told Wheeler to explain why she needed to find me. I guess he thought I wouldn’t do the right thing if I didn’t have all the facts.”

Sabine rolled this over in her mind, trying to bunch all the facts together into something that made sense, and all at an hour she should have been curled up in her bed not thinking at all. “So Wheeler told you everything, and then you came here. Why, exactly?”

Hank grinned. “Well, cousin, I thought if we were a match, I would give you some bone marrow.”

Sabine sat back in her chair, stunned. She stared at Hank Henry, the most selfish, most irresponsible person in the world, and tried to come up with any reason whatsoever for this charade. Hank just stared back, the grin still in place, his expression completely sincere. Well, that tore it all.

She felt the tears well up in her eyes and reached for a napkin. “I can’t believe you’d do that for me, Hank.”

Hank looked a bit embarrassed. “Oh, hell, it’s nothing but a test for now. We don’t even know if I’m a match or if you’ll ever need me. You’re a really good person, Sabine. You’ve always looked after Maryse, and I know neither of you believe me, but I do care about her.”

Sabine sniffed. “Just not enough to be her husband.”

Hank sighed. “I’m not in any shape to be anyone’s husband. I’ve got too many issues, Sabine. All I could do is bring her down. And the reality is, I care about Maryse a lot, but I don’t love her like that DEQ agent does.”

“How do you know about Luc?”

“I’ve seen them together out on the bayou, but they didn’t see me.” Hank smiled. “They look good together, Sabine. Right. Like two pieces that fit perfectly together. And after everything I put her through, I’m really glad she’s happy.”

Sabine sniffed again. “Me, too.”

“So…I wanted to let you know that I saw a doctor in New Orleans this morning to do the tests. Wheeler called in a favor, so it’s all sorta anonymous…you know, given my situation. The doctor will send Wheeler the results and he will contact you. If that’s all right, that is.”

Sabine smiled. “That’s fine, Hank.”

Hank rose from his chair. “Then I guess I best be clearing out of here before anyone sees me.”

Sabine rose and followed him to the shop entrance. Hank opened the door just a crack, but before he could slip through, Sabine grabbed his arm. “Thank you, Hank.”

Hank stared at her for a moment, then leaned over to kiss her forehead. “You’re going to be fine, cousin. I can feel it.” He smiled and slipped out the door and into the night.

“Thirty damn years,” Helena’s voice boomed, and Sabine spun around. “Thirty years for him to grow a conscience, and technically, I’m not even around to see it.”

Sabine sighed. “Where are you, Helena?”

“At the counter.”

Sabine saw her stapler hovering a foot above the counter. Great. “Exactly how much did you hear?”

“Well, since I saw Hank sneaking into your shop and followed him in, everything. Nice pistol, by the way.”

Sabine groaned and leaned against the shop wall. “I could have shot him, Helena! Why didn’t you yell or something?”

“If you’d have gotten to the actual shooting part, I would have said something. Maybe. Probably.”

“He’s your son, Helena, and he did take a bullet that wasn’t intended for him. Can’t you cut him a little slack?”

“I’m not ready to move on yet. Seem to be having that problem everywhere.” Helena began to laugh.

“If you’re done enjoying the show, I’m going back to bed.”

“So,” Helena said, “I guess now I know why you dragged me to New Orleans and had that nutbag draw your parents. You’re looking for a match, right?”

Damn it. The very conversation she’d been hoping to avoid. Sabine sighed. “Yes.”

“Well, why the hell didn’t you say so? I’m sure I can help.”

Sabine rubbed her temples with her fingers, trying to stop the rush of blood into her head. “That’s sorta what I was afraid of.”





[page]Chapter Four




Beau slammed the journal shut and tossed it onto the floor with the rest of the pile. Nothing. Eight hours of reading his own scribbles and he wasn’t any closer to identifying the man in the drawing now than he had been when he started. At this point, he’d welcome a spiritual intervention. Hell, right now it might be the only way to locate the man.

Her father was the key to it all, Beau was certain. There was little information on Sabine’s mother. It seemed she’d never held a job and didn’t drive, but her name was accurate and he’d traced her back to high school photos. No secrets there. Mom was who she said she was, and Sabine’s aunt had been correct in thinking the Sabine’s mother was the last of her family line.