Josette (25 page)

Before Bastièn could answer, Cameron leaned over the boat and vomited again, unable to halt the retching.

“There are two reasons why you should not lean too far over the water,
mon ami
. One is that you need to keep your heart above your leg. The other is you do not want some fat gator springing up out of nowhere and taking your head off.”

Cameron sat back and cursed the pain running through him. As if profanity would be of any help. Of all the ways to die, this one had never crossed his mind. Old age, perhaps? Being thrown from a horse? A debilitating disease? Not the bite of a goddamned water moccasin. No, two of them. And judging by the size of the snake that had sunk its fangs into him and pumped poison into his leg, he'd gotten a hell of a dose.

His mind was beginning to fog, and his head pounded out a powerful rhythm that felt like trumpets heralding death. He hung over the side of the boat again. Clutching his gut, he heaved nothing but bile.

“You're fortunate it wasn't a rattler,
mon ami
. Rattlers steal your breath. Shut your lungs down until you suffocate. One that size would surely have killed you by now. This way, if you don't die, we only have to worry about saving your leg.”

Had Cameron imagined things or had Bastièn's voice taken on a hint of compassion?

Bastièn eased the boat alongside a dock and tied it to a crude post. “Can you stand?”

Cameron tried. “Legs don't work right.”

“Then I'll have to push you up until you hang over the side of the dock. Once I get you there, do not move or you'll slide into the water. As big as you are, I won't be able to haul you out.”

“No more snakes,” Cameron mumbled.

“
Non
,” Bastièn said. “We keep them cleared from around the house. When I give you a shove, grab the post where I hooked the rope and slap your belly onto the planks. Then hang on until I get to you. Don't you let your head drop even with your leg, you hear? Let me do the work so your heart won't beat so hard.”

As soon as Cameron got his upper body into position, Bastièn jumped onto the dock. With a grunt and a groan, he heaved Cameron to a standing position. “Lean on me.”

Once inside the house, Bastièn eased him onto a straight, armless chair. He lit an oil lamp. “Sit up. Just keep upright for me. I'll be right back.”

Between the pain and his muddled brain, Cameron had no idea how much time passed before Bastièn returned with two small bowls.

He sat beside Cameron and cut deeper into the two bites. He poured a tall glass of clear liquid. Each time he sucked and spat, he rinsed out his mouth. “Moonshine. Keeps the snake poison from getting into me.”

He dipped his head, and again sucked and spat. “Judging from the distance between the puncture wounds, this here bite right above your knee came from a smaller snake. Doesn't mean it wasn't loaded with poison, though. Young ones can be just as dangerous as the older ones. But the one moc'sin that didn't want to let go was one damn big snake.”

He sucked and spat again. “No telling when she ate last, so no telling how much poison she had in her when she sank her fangs into you.”

Cameron shivered from the pain. “She?”

Bastièn's sharp blue eyes fixed on Cameron, assessing him. “You can tell by the tip of the tail.”

Cameron tried to focus on the words being spoken. They sounded far off, and the lamplight seemed to dim as his vision blurred. But the pain in his leg . . . “I need to vomit again.”

Bastièn held a bucket next to the chair. “I doubt you have anything left in you, but it's good to get it out if there is.”

He set down the pail and picked up one of the bowls. Holding it against Cameron's lesions, he poured what looked like blood into the cross-cuts and smeared it into the wounds.

“What's that?”

“One of Maman's tricks. I opened a vein in Satan out back. That old horse has been snake bit so many times, Maman swears his blood acts against the poison.”

Cameron shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to remember what Bastièn had said. It wasn't worth the bother. He closed his eyes.

“
Regarde-moi
.” Bastièn nudged Cameron's good leg, urging him to look at Bastièn. “Are you still with me?”

It took a moment for Cameron to put Bastièn's words into any kind of order. He nodded.

“You cannot keep your mind straight,
oui
?”

Talking took too much effort. Cameron nodded again.

“I know you want to sleep, but you have to work with me.” Bastièn spread something cool over Cameron's leg. Although it didn't halt the inner agony, the terrible stinging stopped.

“What was that?” he mumbled.

“Catfish slime. Steals the surface pain. Maman will be here soon. She is bound to do what she can to save you. I don't know about saving your leg, though.”

What was worse, lose a leg or die outright?

Cameron no longer cared.

The clock had barely struck four in the morning when footsteps on the veranda sent Josette running to the door. A bloodstained and disheveled Alexia huddled close to René.

Josette grew dizzy at the sight. “Oh, dear heavens, you're wounded.”

She reached for Alexia, but the girl shrank back and clung to her uncle.

“It's only chicken blood,” he said.

The frantic buzz in Josette's brain dissipated. She'd been privy to Maman's practices in the past, so she knew Cameron and her brothers must have reached Alexia near the end of the initiation. At least Lucien hadn't stolen her away for his evil purposes.

René and Alexia stepped inside.

Josette collected herself and took care in choosing her words. “Would you like me to help you with a bath?”

Alexia burrowed into the crook of René's arm.

Was she ashamed? “Sweetheart, you can talk to me about anything. But if you choose not to breathe a word of what happened, I won't inquire. There is one thing I want you to know, though—no matter what, I will always love you.”

The suggestion of a smile touched René's otherwise stoic expression.

The three of them stood in the entry for what seemed an eternity. Suddenly, Alexia's face contorted and a great sob escaped. She pulled away from René and fell into Josette's arms. “I'm sorry,
ma tante
. I . . . I di . . . didn't know how awful it would be.”

“You poor thing.” Josette held Alexia tight to her bosom and swayed back and forth, planting kisses atop her head. “You're safe now.”

Once Alexia relaxed a little, Josette held her at arm's length and conjured a smile. “Shall we get you cleaned up and off to bed? You must be utterly exhausted.”

Alexia sniffed, wiped the back of her hand across her nose, and, ignoring the tears on her cheeks, eyed the staircase as if it might be the only safe haven in the land.

Josette glanced over René's shoulder, then back to him. “Where are Bastièn and Cameron?”

René broke eye contact and stared down the corridor. “See to Alexia and then we'll talk.”

Josette's heart leapt to her throat. Something had to have gone terribly wrong. She noted René's sullied and torn shirt hanging loose from his trousers. “Remove your top, René.”

Without a word, he pulled the stained garment over his head and let it drop to the floor. The bandages covering his torso seeped fresh blood.

The hairs on Josette's arms stood on end. “The last thing you need is for an infection to set in.”

She addressed Alexia. “Can you wake Vivienne—?”

“I'm here.” Vivienne descended the flight of stairs with Régine right behind her.

“Thank heavens. I'm going to need some help, ladies. Alexia, you go with Vivienne for a bath and change of clothing. Régine, hurry and heat some water, then set out my supplies.”

Taking René by the arm, Josette guided him toward the kitchen. “What happened?”

He shoved a hand through his hair. “See to what needs fixin', then we talk,
oui
?”

A seed of terror sprouted in her. “You know I cannot tolerate this kind of tension. Tell me what's wrong.”

He set his jaw and said nothing. She knew better than to prod, but blast it all, her thoughts were all over the place and setting her nerves jangling even worse than they'd been all evening.

They reached the kitchen, where René boosted himself onto the worktable with a grunt and a curse. “Get this done as fast as you can. I need to return to the bayou
.
”

She held her shaking hands before him. “Look at me, René. I've been pacing the floor for hours, sick with worry. Now you tell me to take care of you, and then we talk? Do you think keeping whatever you have to say until I've finished sewing you up is going to help either of us?”

He turned his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes. “Bastièn is fine, but Cameron got bit by a couple of water moc'sins.”

Josette's heart tripped and pain gripped her stomach. “Oh, no! Is he still alive?”

“He was when I left them, but he's in a bad way. Bastièn took him to Maman's—”

“Maman's? That's insanity. You know she hates him.” The irony of her words struck her like a slap. What would there be left to hate if he was already dead? A moan left her throat.

René tried for a deep breath, but winced and held his side. “I halted the ceremony in front of Maman's followers and demanded she help him. She didn't dare refuse or she would've been called a hypocrite. Besides, if Cameron's still alive, Bastièn will protect him. Now, stitch me up,
s'il vous plaît
.”

Régine moved to where René perched on the table and began dabbing water on his bandages to ease their removal. She glanced at Josette's quaking fingers. “Would you prefer Vivienne or I do the repair?”

Josette wrapped her arms around her waist, and walked to the back door. Flinging it open, she gazed out at her garden, lit only by the waning moon.

This nightmare could not be happening. Some mistake had been made.

Of course, that was it . . . a terrible mistake.

Cameron might have been bitten, but that didn't mean the snakes were poisonous. Hadn't she been attacked by a plain old water snake once? Yes, that was what had gotten him. After all, it had to be black as pitch out there, so how could they have known the creatures were venomous?

A strange, stoic calm settled her nerves. Her hands ceased their trembling. She marched back to the table and, standing to René's left, spoke to Régine. “As soon as you finish removing the bandages, I'll take over.”

Her cousin shot Josette an odd frown, then went back to her task.

René shoved a bent arm beneath his head as a pillow and studied Josette through half-closed lids, the tops and bottoms of his thick, sooty lashes tangling together at the outer corners. “What did you go and tell yourself that makes you so calm all of a sudden,
chère
?”

She picked up the needle and threaded it with catgut. “Don't look down your nose at me. Concern yourself with cooperating, not wondering what I'm thinking.”

Régine finished removing the bandages, then went about tending to the wounds with witch hazel.

“You need to hurry.” René's words to Josette were suddenly gentle.

She sank the needle into the flesh of the first cleansed wound.

René winced.

“Sorry. I had better slow down and do this right.”

She paused a beat, then began to babble. “Those were likely nothing but water snakes. Remember when I got bit by one while we were digging for crawfish and my hand swelled up something awful? Maman said the infection set in because their mouths were so dirty from all they ate, mice and things. It was painful to be sure, but not from poison. Simple water snakes. That's what bit Cameron.”

“
Non,
Josette,” René said quietly. “It was a nest of moc'sins he stepped in. There be no mistake.”

Good Lord, Cameron could very well be gone already! No, it simply was not possible. She had to clear her throat to get her words out. “Régine, would you please fetch Alexia? And some fresh clothing for René so he doesn't have to climb the stairs in his condition.”

When her cousin exited the room, Josette went back to sewing. “That's Alexia's father we are speaking of. She'll need to know what's happened.”

“
Oui
.” René reached out and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “And you are in love with him,
non
?”

The needle slipped.

René hissed.

“Beg your pardon.” She concentrated on her task. “This is hardly a discussion to be carrying on right now. As you said, we can talk later.”

“I think now is the right moment for this particular discussion,
chère
.”

She drew a hard breath to channel her frustration. “Not that it's any of your business, but we were two adults attracted to each other. We knew our time together was limited, so we simply took advantage of the circumstances. Is that such a sin?”

Her hands began to shake again. The needle dropped from her fingers onto René's stomach.

He looked down at it. “You should ask Régine or Vivienne to finish.”

She stepped back and shoved an errant curl behind her ear. “I . . . Perhaps you're right. I can't seem to stop this blasted trembling.”

“So you let him treat you like he did Solange? You wish to end up in the cemetery next to her?”

Annoyance rubbed against years of raw hurt, and a flood of emotions poured forth. She pressed her palms against her temples. “Stop berating me, René. Solange tricked Cameron into getting her with child. She did it ruthlessly and without shame. And I'll have you know, she tore my heart to shreds while she was at it.”

A puzzled look ran over René's countenance. “What do you mean?”

“More than anyone, I trusted Solange. I was fascinated with Cameron back then. When I was thirteen and he was seventeen, I pointed him out to her and told her how wild I was about him. At the time, her target had been Cameron's cousin. It was her way out of life in the bayou, but Trevor was far too busy with Madame Olympée's favorites to pay any attention to our sister. That's when she got the idea to bargain with the madame over Cameron.”

Josette paced now, rubbing her sweaty palms on her skirts. “How do you think I felt when Alexia was born? Solange broke my heart, René. She did it without giving it as much as a second thought.”

“So you are in love with him and have been for many years.”

“You're confusing love with desire, but I doubt you would know the difference.”

“Do you?”

She marched over to him. “Oh, I would shake you if you weren't so injured. Love builds, René. It nourishes a warmth that lasts throughout the years. Cameron—if he is alive and makes it through this awful mess—will leave. We desired each other; that is all. Certainly you, with your many conquests, can understand what the heat of desire can do to a person.”

René studied her for a long moment. “If you ask me, you don't believe he could love you, so you won't let yourself think about your feelings as anything more than desire.”

“I didn't ask you.” Tears flooded the backs of her eyes. “We are speaking of a man who may already be dead. If he is not, and he makes it through, he'll sail off. He's told me on more than one occasion that he is a lost soul and needs to find himself. For God's sake, can't you leave this be?”

René said nothing, only watched her.

She picked up the needle. Her fingers still shook. She dropped it back onto his stomach. “Where the devil is Vivienne? Poor Alexia. She has been through so much. If we get there and it's too late, and she's lost her father—”

René frowned. “We? I alone am taking Alexia to her father.”

Josette's mind froze, then cracked into a million pieces. “Of course. I only thought to go along in case she . . . she might need me.” Her knees were shaking now. “Oh, dear. We need to get word to Cameron's cousins, as well.”

She rubbed at her forehead and paced again. “Who can we send at this hour? I suppose I should—”

“Stop, Josette. You are in love with him.” He reached out a hand for her. “Come.”

She shook her head, refusing his gesture. “I cannot, or I will fall apart and be of no help to anyone.”

Was he right? Did she love Cameron? She had thought she did when she was far too young to know what the word meant. But perhaps her naïve heart had recognized a simple truth back then. Perhaps her infatuation had been a seed that now sprouted. With that revelation, she was through lying to herself. She had to go to Cameron.

“René, I insist you take me with you.”

Vivienne hurried in with Alexia in tow. Régine followed with a stack of fresh clothing for René.

“Vivienne, you'll have to finish what I started. Régine can assist while I observe.” Josette clasped her hands together to halt their shaking. She faced Alexia. “Dear, your uncle has given me some rather bad news. It's your father. When he went with your uncles to collect you, he was . . . he was . . .”

Oh, God help her, she couldn't say the words.

Alexia took a step back. Fear shot through her eyes, then her face went blank.

René took over. “Your papa, he got bit by moc'sins.”

Some transient, wild emotion flared in Alexia's eyes. Just as quickly, it was gone. “My papa, he be dead?”

“We don't know. He was bitten more than once.”

Alexia looked away. “He be dead then for sure.” Cold as she appeared, her bottom lip slid in between her teeth and her fists clenched and unclenched.

Josette found her voice again. “It happened right before Bastièn went to rescue you, which was why René went instead. Bastièn took your father to Maman's to treat him.”

“Maman has no use for Papa. If he's not already dead, she'll make sure of it.”

The expression that passed through Alexia's eyes turned Josette's blood cold. “As soon as René is repaired, we'll take you to him.”

Alexia paled. “
Non
. I will stay here.”

René sat up slowly and lifted his arms so Régine could wrap the lichen-soaked bandages around him. “We will fetch the two Andrews cousins. Five of us cannot fit in the pirogue.”

Inch by inch, Josette fell apart inside. She could not be left behind. “But—”