There was a gator in the middle of the road. A massive gator. He’d been in Papillon for a couple of weeks, and he knew they were in the bayou, but this was his first real look at one on a road, and this bad boy was taking up most of it. He was laid out lengthwise in what looked to be the sunniest part of this particular stretch of road.
Shep barked beside him, his big paws on the dash as though he was ready to go into battle.
If the gator heard all that canine aggression, he didn’t show it. The only movement was a slight shift of his big tail. It seemed to be missing the tip, the powerful thing ending in a stump.
He and the gator had something in common.
He glanced down at his phone. He had a couple of texts that stemmed from yesterday’s bat signal.
Sam would be able to spend a few days next week shoring up the indoor stairs, while his friend Lena was a master painter, and he’d helped out with her mother’s place after it flooded. She’d promised to bring her sister and swore she would work for gumbo. He had called a plaster expert, a roofer, and two sisters who specialized in restoration.
He had a small army ready to knock Guidry Place into shape in record time and they’d all agreed because somehow, someway, in all those jobs he’d done, all the drifting, he’d managed to make a little family for himself.
He would offer it all to Sera. He would show her what he could give her.
But he had to get to New Orleans first because his roofer friend was coming in this afternoon and he needed a ride. He would pick up Jimmy and rush back to hopefully find better lodgings for all of them. His aunt had left a message, but he couldn’t listen to it yet.
Of course, he might be sitting here forever. How long did gators nap?
He honked his horn but the gator simply opened and closed his mouth as though yawning and settling in.
What the hell was he supposed to do? The gator was across the entire road, and the sides sloped off at a pretty steep grade, so there was no going around him. The last thing he needed to do was roll his truck. He needed every dime he had to help Sera.
He sat for a little while, staring at his phone and then back at the gator. Shep had stopped barking, curling up on the seat beside him like if the gator got to nap, at least he could do the same.
His phone buzzed again. A text from his aunt.
I’m sending a gift your way. Stay put, my darling boy. I’ll make this right.
What did that mean? Knowing his aunt, it meant she would have Luc Guidry installed in Wes’s room at Beaumont House by tomorrow. And what would she send his way?
He wished he hadn’t promised Sera he wouldn’t call her. It had been the right thing to do. If she said she wanted space, not giving it to her made him every bit as bad as all the other jerks she’d ever dated, but he wanted to call her, to hear her voice.
He wanted to find out if there was any way she could ever forgive him because there was no way he could forget her.
Shep’s head came up two seconds before Harry heard the sirens in the distance.
He sent a small thanks to heaven because the sheriff probably knew how to deal with a gator. He glanced back, and sure enough, a parish vehicle was tearing up the road. The big SUV stopped and the door came open and the deputy swung herself down and opened the passenger door.
Sera slid from the back, her blond hair tumbling around her shoulders.
She was here. She was here and so was a gator. She was running toward the gator, who might swallow her petite form in two quick bites.
He had that door open in no time flat, and shut it before Shep could rush out and try to battle the reptile.
Sera was running his way.
“Baby, there’s a gator. I need you to get in the truck.” He wasn’t about to let her get hurt.
She stopped a few feet from him, looking around to get a glimpse. “Oh, it’s no big deal. That’s Otis. He’s a sweetheart. I need to talk to you.”