Free Heaven in a Wildflower by Patricia Hagan Page B

in with her before the wedding.”
    “No!” Anjele protested. She had to have these last months at BelleClair and also couldn’t deny wanting to get to know her new and exciting friend.
    She ran to her mother to throw her arms about her. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I swear it. Just don’t send me to New Orleans. Not now. I wanted one more season here, because once I’m married, nothing will ever be the same. You can’t do it, Momma. Please don’t send me away.”
    Twyla sighed again, managed a stiff smile, and gently brushed at her daughter’s tears. “All right,” she reluctantly conceded, “but another scene, and you leave me no choice.
    “Now then.” She pushed from Anjele’s embrace. “Where is Mrs. Rabine? And what were you playing that upset Claudia so?”
    “She left early,” Anjele hedged. “And I was playing Cajun music.”
    “Well, don’t play it anymore, if Claudia feels it gets the piano out of tune.”
    Anjele thought that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard, but wasn’t about to say so. She was determined now, more than ever, to avoid any confrontation with Claudia, for she knew her mother did not make idle threats.
    She sat back down at the piano and played the Bach piece, and her mother finally left her.
    Mercifully, Anjele’s thoughts took her away to travel once more to all the exciting places Gator had described so vividly. And she wondered again what had brought Gator to Bayou Perot and BelleClair. Handsome, dashing, obviously intelligent and keen of wit, he was wasted in the fields—as she would be, in her new life, married to Raymond. Dear God, there was just so much she wanted to see and do before settling down to marriage.
    That evening, she stood on her veranda and willed darkness to descend quickly. From far in the distance came the sound of a riverboat’s whistle. A warm breeze drifting up from the river caressed her face as she recalled once more the pleasant evening with Gator.
    Yielding to temptation, daring to hope he might come back, she quickly scrambled down the trellis and ran through the night.
    But he was not at the willow.
    She waited perhaps an hour, feeling more like a fool with each passing moment. Finally she told herself she’d been ridiculous even to want to be with him again. What was the point? They came from two different worlds, and he’d already indicated he didn’t think she belonged in his. Obviously he hadn’t been serious when he hinted he’d see her again.
    So be it.
    She went back to the house and climbed into bed, only to stare into the darkness and wonder why, after the scant time they’d been together, he so easily monopolized her thoughts. And all the while, she chided herself and resolved to put him out of her mind.
    For the next few days, Anjele did, indeed, manage not to think about him. She spent her time at the piano or reading, but was soon bored to tears. The weather was hot, but lovely, and she couldn’t stand being indoors.
    One morning she arose at dawn to dress quickly and hurry downstairs. As expected, her father was in the breakfast room, enjoying his usual cup of hot chicory coffee with a platter of eggs, hominy grits, and fried ham.
    He was pleasantly surprised to see her. “It’s been a long time since you joined me for breakfast, Angel. What’s the occasion? I haven’t forgot my own birthday, have I?” he teased.
    “I’m bored.” She indicated to Kesia that she’d like juice and toast. “I swear, Poppa, if I have to spend one more day in this house, I’m going to lose my mind. Bad enough, I’ll have to move into town once I’m married, so why can’t I enjoy what time I’ve got left here?”
    He laughed. “You make it sound like you’re dying.”
    “Maybe I am.”
    Pity widened his eyes. “Raymond is a fine young man. I’m sure he’ll do his best to make you happy.”
    “Then he should be willing to move to BelleClair. This is the only place I’ll ever be happy.”
    “Your