Free Midnight Bayou by Nora Roberts Page A

“I got some balm I’ll give you before you go, keep these blisters from troubling you. You got a strong hand, Declan. Strong enough that you changed your fate. Took yourself a new road. You didn’t love her.”
    “I’m sorry?”
    “This woman.” Odette smoothed her fingernail over the side of his palm. “The one you stepped back from. She wasn’t for you.”
    Frowning, he leaned closer, stared down at his own hand. “You see Jessica on there?” Fascinating. “Does she end up with James?”
    “What do you care? She didn’t love you, either.”
    “Well, ouch,” he said and laughed a little.
    “You’ve got love coming, the kind that’ll knock you flat on your behind. It’ll be good for you.”
    Though she continued to stroke her thumb over his palm, her gaze lifted to his face. Her eyes seemed to deepen. It seemed he could see worlds in them.
    “You’ve got strong ties to Manet Hall. Strong, old ties. Life and death. Blood and tears. Joy, if you’re strong enough, smart enough. You’re a clever man, Declan. Be clever enough to look front and back to find yourself. You’re not alone in that house.”
    His throat went dry, but he didn’t reach for his tea. He didn’t move a muscle. “It’s haunted.”
    “What’s there’s kept others from settling in. They’d say it was the money, the time or some such, but what’s in that house frightened them away. It’s been waiting for you.”
    The chill shot up his spine in a single, icy arrow. “Why?”
    “That’s for you to find out.” She gave his hand a squeeze, then released it, picked up her tea.
    He curled his fingers into his tingling palm. “So you’re, like, a psychic?”
    Amused, she rose to bring the pitcher of tea to the table. “I see what I see from time to time. A little kitchen magic,” she said as she refilled the glasses. “It doesn’t make me a witch, just a woman.” She noted his glance at the silver cross she wore, tangled with colored beads around her neck. “You think that’s a contradiction? Where do you think power comes from, cher ?”
    “I guess I never thought about it.”
    “We don’t use what the good Lord gave us, whatevertalent that might be, we’re wasting his gift.” She angled her head, and he saw she wore earrings as well. Fat blue stones dangling from tiny lobes. “I hear you called Jack Tripadoe about maybe doing some plumbing work in that place of yours.”
    “Ah . . .” He struggled to shift his brain from the fantastic to the practical, while his palm continued to vibrate from the skim of her fingers. “Yes. My friend Remy Payne recommended him.”
    “That Remy.” Her face lit, and any mystery that had been in it vanished. “He’s a caution. Jack, he’s a cousin of my sister’s husband’s brother’s wife. He’ll do good work for you, and if he doesn’t give you a fair price, you tell him Miss Odette’s gonna want to know why.”
    “I appreciate that. You wouldn’t happen to know a plasterer? Somebody who can handle fancy work?”
    “I’ll get you a name. It’ll cost you a pretty bag of pennies to put that place back to what it was and keep it that way.”
    “I’ve got a lot of pennies. I hope you’ll come by sometime so I can show you around. I can’t make corn bread, but I can manage the tea.”
    “You got a nice manner, cher. Your mama, she raised you right.”
    “Would you mind writing that down, signing it? I can mail it to her.”
    “I’m going to like having you around,” she declared. “You come back to visit anytime.”
    “Thank you, Miss Odette.” Reading his cue, he got to his feet. “I’m going to like having you around, too.”
    The sun beamed across her face as she looked up at him. The angle of it, the amusement in her dark eyes, the teasing curve of lips, shot him back to the dim bar in the Quarter. “She looks so much like you.”
    “She does. You got your eye on my Lena already?”
    He was a little flustered to realize he’d spoken outloud, so