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Chapter Five
Brax made his way back downstairs. The crowd of family had thinned somewhat, but there were still loud conversations and laughter. Searching for a familiar face, he found the aunts Eden and Havana in the kitchen. “I can wash up my dishes if you show me where.”
“Just set them on the counter there,” Eden told him. “I’ll add them to the rest.”
“Are you sure? You fed me; the least I can do is clean up after myself.”
“I’m sure.”
“Did you enjoy the gumbo?” Vana asked.
“I did. Thank you very much. I’d like the recipe to take home if there is one.”
“There’s no formal recipe but I’ll write down how I make it.”
“That would be appreciated. He placed the dishes where she wanted them, then asked after the whereabouts of his father.
“He and Hazel are having dinner out back,” she informed him.
“I don’t want to intrude on them while they’re eating, but do you know which room we’ve been given for the night?”
Eden, slicing a large pound cake and placing the pieces on small plates, said, “Yes. Give me a second and I’ll show you. Are you and Raven doing better?”
“I think so.” He smiled inwardly and wondered if Raven had picked her sassy little self up off the floor of the verandah yet.
When the cake slicing was done, he thanked Havana again for the gumbo and followed Eden to a large bedroom at the back of the house. Inside its aging green plaster walls were two beds, an old upholstered chair, and a large, dark wood armoire that gleamed from loving care. He spotted his carpetbag and his father’s travel items on the floor beside it. “Has the family always lived in this house?”
“Yes. My mother won the deed for it in a card game back when my siblings and I were small. We all grew up here, as did our children. This was once my brother Abram’s room.”
“Does he still live in New Orleans?”
“No. He moved to Cuba about a decade ago. A branch of the family is there.”
“I see.” But he didn’t really.Cuba? How many moreMoreauxwere there?
“There’s a washroom through that door there,and clean towels and extra bed linens in the wardrobe. There will be breakfast in the morning, so come to the table when you’re ready.”
“How much should I pay for taking such good care of us?”
She shook her head. “You’re our guest. Once you and Raven marry though, things will be different.”
He gave her an eye roll.
“Scoff if you want, but don’t say you weren’t warned. Is there anything I can get for you before I leave?”
“No, ma’am. You’ve been truly kind.”
“Okay. If I don’t see you again this evening, sleep well.”
“You, too. Thank you.”
She departed, and Brax glanced around again. It was a simple room, lacking the carpets, nightstands, and other appointments of his bedroom back home, but it was clean, the beds appeared comfortable, and after the long day, he was looking forward to a good long night of uninterrupted sleep. He spent a few minutes unpacking what he needed for the evening and hung a clean set of clothes for the next day in the armoire. Once that was accomplished, he stepped out onto the covered, screened-in porch attached to the room and savored the descending dusk and the much cooler evening air. A battered settee and a wooden bench offered seating. He chose the settee and in thesilence exhaled.What a day!From their arrival, to the multitudes of Moreaux, to a little girl everyone believed predicted the future, to dinner with the sassy and prickly Raven. He chuckled inwardly remembering the shock on her face when he left her on the verandah. Tossing out the dessert challenge hadn’t been intentional, but more of a response to her cocky dismissiveness. He assumed by the aspersions she’d cast on the carnal abilities of Boston’s men, she was no novice, making him want to learn firsthand if she was as spirited and uninhibited with a lover as she was in life, but wanting and actually doing were two different things. A dalliance with her was illogical at best, considering what they’d been paired to do, and their clashing personalities, no matter Dorrie’s prediction, was another matter. He wasn’t Raven’s type and she certainly wasn’t his. She’d say he was back to being judgmental, and she’d be correct because it was impossible not to be.
He thought back on her response to him questioning why she was a hired domestic.You haven’t earned the right to know the answer to that question. Were the family’s ill-gotten gains tied to some sort of secret? Could they be funneling the profits elsewhere because they weren’t the ones controlling the strings, and were only being paid a small cut for their participation? He had many questions and no way of knowing if they’d ever be answered.
Hearing footsteps in the room, he stood just as his father appeared. “Ah, there you are. How was your dinner with Raven?”
“Interesting. How are you?”
