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“It’s amusing. I know your mother didn’t like television, but it’s a strain on my eyes to read too much. I find some shows comforting. This one is about family,” his dad explained. “It’s not the same as ours was, but the emotions are universal. The mom reminds me of yours.”
“The daughter is . . .” How did he explain that his father was actually watching the woman he’d seen earlier this evening? It was a lot to process. “. . . pretty.”
His father turned to him, staring. “Major, that girl is barely sixteen. Maybe we should talk about being attracted to appropriate women.”
“I meant she will be when she grows up.” No one could make him feel as awkward as his father. “Which she is because I happen to know this is an old show. That actress is twenty-five now, and she’s who I had dinner with. She’s filming a movie in town.”
A brow rose above his father’s eyes. “The mayor finally got a production crew to come to Papillon?”
“Yes, and Brynn is playing a sheriff’s deputy.” It was surreal that she was smiling on the TV screen and he was talking about knowing her. “And she is pretty. And appropriately aged for me. And she is attracted to men.”
His father’s laugh filled the room. “Now I want to know everything about her. How did you meet?”
Major frowned. “Well, that’s a long story.”
He sat back and began his tale.
chapter five
Brynn sat in the tiny boat as Major navigated the dark water with an expert hand. At least she hoped he had an expert hand. She had to admit the boat made her nervous. Not that she would show it.
“It’s perfectly safe, you know.” He flashed her a smile as they moved along. “Well, as safe as anything is down here.”
She held on to Duke. He seemed content to huddle on her lap. Dolly, on the other hand, was pretending to be the figurehead of the tiny boat. She stood at the front, her face to the wind. “I’m not used to small boats. Or water where alligators could be.”
“I thought there was nothing the great Brynn Pearson couldn’t handle.” He winked at her. “It’s good to know you’re human. But you do have to get comfortable because if the movie is at all realistic, your character should spend some time on one of these. Half the damn parish requires a boat to get to.”
“People live out here?” They’d only pulled off the B and B’s dock a few moments before, and all the islands they’d passed had been tiny things.
“Oh, yes,” he replied. “We’ll pass some of the larger islands to get to Butterfly. There are some families who’ve lived out here for generations. There are also some fishing cabins. Most of those are pretty spartan, though my friend Rene’s is very nice.”
“There’s an island called Butterfly? Isn’t Papillon French for butterfly?”
“It is. This whole area is called Butterfly Bayou because monarchs come through here on their way to Mexico,” he explained. “They cover the islands, but one in particular seems to be their favorite. They cling to every tree. It’s like they replace the leaves for a couple of days.”
“That sounds beautiful.”
“It’s early for them to be here, but in a couple of weeks you should be able to see it for yourself.” He looked off to his left and held up a hand. “Hey, Dave. How you doing?”
There was a man sitting on a dock, fishing pole in hand. He nodded. “Good. Weather’s nice and the fish are biting, so I can’t complain.”
The words were said in that Cajun accent she was starting to get used to. She’d heard Gavin practicing on Seraphina this morning as she’d snuck out of the main house with the lunch Sera had packed. She’d been determined to not allow her TV dad to meet Major. At some point that would happen, but she wanted a peaceful day with him.
“Do you make the rounds out here often?” She was curious about the man. Far more curious than she would normally be about someone who was helping her with research.
“We take turns with it, but one of us is always out here,” he said as he maneuvered the boat into what seemed like a quieter part of the water. Trees rose all around her, their branches bowing back toward the surface. “They’re pretty isolated, and cell phones don’t always work.”
It was one of the things she liked about this place. “How did you end up down here? I assume you’re not originally from here. Your accent isn’t the same.”
“I don’t have an accent.” He seemed to be in an excellent mood this morning. And a teasing one since his twang had been far more pronounced.
“I would bet anything you’re from Texas.” It was an accent no one could mistake. It was sharper and quicker than the molasses-coated accent of the deep south.
