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In the parlor, Julianna asked Val, “Have you heard from your Cole?”
“Not yet. I’m assuming he’ll be arriving any day though.”
“If he does, don’t you dare leave New Orleans until I return.”
Val smiled. “I’d never leave without saying goodbye.”
“Good. Drake promised to stay here while we’re gone to keep an eye on things, but I haven’t seen him. Raimond said he reminded him. I hope he hasn’t forgotten. Sometimes he gets so focused on whatever he’s building he loses track of time.”
“I’m sure Little Reba and I can manage alone.”
“I don’t doubt that, but I worry about the supremacists and their night rides.”
Val understood. The newspapers were filled with more frightening accounts of burnings and deaths. There’d also been editorials demanding the arrests of Liam Atwater’s kidnappers. That Drake hadn’t denied playing a role in his disappearance continued to cause her worry about retaliation against him and his family.
And suddenly he appeared in the parlor—all glorious, six-foot-plus inches—and her breath caught. His eyes met hers. The way her heart was pounding, she was sure everyone in the room heard it. He gave her a slight nod and she gave him a tremulous one in response. He walked over and placed a kiss on his mother’s cheek. “Morning, Mama. Came to say goodbye and find out if there’s anything you want done around here while you’re away.”
“I worried you’d forgotten.”
“No.”
Henri stepped inside. “Are you ready, Julie?”
She nodded and said to Valinda, “If your intended needs a place to stay have him speak with Archer. I’m sure he’ll have a room available.”
“I will. Have a good time.”
“Take care of her, Henri,” Drake added.
Henri escorted his wife out to the carriage, leaving Valinda and Drake alone. The silence between them was awkward, but underneath, as charged as it had been the night in the gazebo.
“Is there school today?” he asked her.
“No. The doctor is visiting.”
“Are the children ill?”
“A couple have the sniffles. Sable said they’ll all come down with it eventually. She just wants to make sure it isn’t something more serious.”
“Ah.”
Even with Cole’s imminent arrival, the man holding her gaze illuminated her feelings like a lighthouse in the darkness.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“I’ve been well,” she replied softly. “I’ve been helping Sable with some of her charity work. And you?”
“I’m fine. How and where did you help?”
She told him about the first day and the second with the orphans.
“You’re to be commended. I’ve volunteered there, too, in the past. I’ll go back to it—but not under the Bureau—once the house is done.”
“How’s it coming along?”
“Should be finished soon.”
Another awkward silence.
