Bayou Baby - Lexi Blake Page 0,5

it wouldn’t be Wes, couldn’t ever be Wes.

She focused on the service in front of her. Duty. She understood that. She’d been doing her duty for thirty years and only once had she really failed.

She would not fail again.

* * *

***

Harrison Jefferys screwed the wall plate in and flicked on the now functioning light. The priest’s office was illuminated once more. “Let there be light.”

Helena Antoine clapped her hands together. “And you’re funny, too. I would not have suspected anyone from Celeste Beaumont’s family to be so warm and funny.” The woman stopped and grimaced. “Sorry. That wasn’t very charitable of me.”

No, but it was a pretty accurate assessment of his aunt. He slipped the flathead screwdriver back into his toolbox. He hadn’t needed to carry the whole thing in. It turned out to be frayed wiring that had done the deed. The mystery of the flickering lights was solved by handiwork once again. That was him. Harrison of House Jefferys, first of his name, single of leg, and the king of all things handy. “It’s all right. I’m pretty sure my aunt Celeste lives to be feared.”

Unlike his sweet mother. His mother had known how to love in a way he wasn’t sure his aunt had figured out. His mother had loved his father despite poverty, despite illness, despite bad luck. They’d been the unluckiest family in the world, and god how he missed them now.

“Well, we were all surprised to hear you were coming for a visit,” Helena said, straightening the papers on her boss’s desk. She was the church secretary, and she’d been nearly hysterical on the phone. Apparently the good father wasn’t used to working in the dark. Harry rather thought she’d believed there were supernatural forces at work.

“That’s because it’s not so much a visit as a command performance. I’m here to work. I think Aunt Celeste likes the idea of having family on this particular project.” Or all the other contractors knew how picky his aunt could be and managed to find themselves too busy to do the job. His cousin Angela was turning into a bit of a bridezilla, too.

“Celeste never talks about the family she came from.”

That’s because Aunt Celeste was the grand dame of Papillon and she liked to forget that she came from a working-class community outside Dallas. She liked to pretend her mother hadn’t cleaned houses and her father hadn’t worked on cars for a living. “Well, you know how it goes. She moved away and started a family here.”

It was only because Celeste hadn’t abandoned her younger sister in her time of need that Harry had come when she’d called. Celeste had visited occasionally, always staying at some ritzy hotel in Dallas and inviting them out for lunch. She’d never come to the home he’d grown up in, the tiny two-bedroom apartment in a lower-class neighborhood. But when his father had passed, Celeste had been the one to sit beside his mom and promise her everything would be all right. Celeste had covered the funeral expenses and made sure they had food on the table.

His aunt had a heart, though sometimes it was hard to see through all the designer wear.

“Well, I knew Ralph’s mother, and anyone who could survive living with that mean old lady would have to develop some thick skin,” Helena said.

He was rapidly coming to realize that everyone knew everyone else here in Papillon and they liked to talk. It was interesting to try to figure out this family of his. “I never met my aunt’s husband. He was obviously a successful man.”

“His family was successful,” Helena corrected. “Ralph’s father was an oilman back in the day. His family once owned a big ranch in Texas, but back in the thirties they found oil underground, and that’s where the wealth came from. He married a woman from New Orleans and settled here. I think they liked it here because they could rule the town. Still do. Not a lot gets done here without either Celeste Beaumont or Rene Darois having a say. The Beaumont and Darois families have run this town for a long time. The rich always seem to get their way.”

“I don’t think having her son die was my aunt’s way. Or Uncle Ralph having a heart attack a year later.” His aunt wasn’t the warmest person in the world, but she’d been through a lot.

“Of course.” Helena had gone a nice shade of red. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Takes