Under The Cypress Tree (Love in Belle Pont #1) Read online

  The annual Belle Pont Crawfish Festival was in town this weekend, and everybody and their brother had flocked here to enjoy it. Even though I’d attended every year since I could remember, I was hesitant to attend this one. But Bentley talked me into it, insisting that he’d be by my side the entire time, and it wasn’t fair to Charlotte to keep her at home.

  As usual, he was right. Sometimes when I watched him with her, I wished Bentley could have been her father. That it could have been him I’d loved so deeply I’d never recover. Because Bentley Daniels was a damn good man. One that any woman would be lucky to call her own.

  He wrapped a protective arm around my shoulder as we walked through the grassy field where the festival was held. The smell of Crawfish cooked in every which way imaginable drifted through the air, along with the salt and grease that usually accompanied it.

  Zydeco music floated from the stage at the center of the festivities, along with young and old alike kickin’ up their heels to the Cajun beats. That was Charlotte’s favorite, and mine too if I was bein’ honest. I liked to watch her bop her head to the music, because hard as she tried, the girl had no rhythm, just like her mama.

  “Mama can we?” she squealed in delight. “I wanna’ dance.”

  “You can dance your little heart out, baby.” I smiled down at her. “But let’s make the rounds first okay? Don’t you wanna’ get your face painted like the other kids?”

  “Ohhhhh yea!”

  In typical five year old fashion, Charlotte jetted off ahead of us in excitement. We wandered around the festival, making pit stops at the arts and crafts booths and the Crawfish eating contest. Then we waited patiently in line for Charlotte to get a butterfly painted on her face. Bentley never took his arm off of me for more than a second, and I tried not to let it bother me.

  “Mama, can we get somethin’ to eat now?” Charlotte asked, eyeing one of the food vendors across the way.

  “Sure darlin’. What would you like? Hot dog… a funnel cake?”

  “Both?” she grinned.

  “Tell you what,” Bentley said. “Why don’t we get some lunch, and then we can listen to the music while we eat?”

  “Okay.” Charlotte bobbed her head in excitement.

  After stockpiling at one of the food vendors, we walked over to the grass and sat down. Charlotte scarfed down her food at lightning speed so she could get up and dance.

  “We’re gonna’ have our hands full when she’s older,” Bentley remarked.

  I shot him a worried glance before he caught onto his mistake.

  “Oh c’mon Annabeth, you know I ain’t ever gonna’ stop lookin’ out for that girl. No matter how old she gets.”

  “I appreciate that Bentley.” I gave him a weak smile, knowing we still had to finish our conversation about the divorce, but not wanting to ruin the day.

  “You alright to watch her for a minute?” I asked as I stood up and brushed the grass off me. “I’m gonna’ head to the bathroom.”

  “Yeah sure.” He waved me off. “I’ll just be here, teachin’ the girl how to dance. Somebody’s got to, cause’ we all know it ain’t gonna’ be you AB.”

  I stuck my tongue out and turned on my heel with a smirk, making my way to the restrooms. When I came out a few minutes later, I could feel his presence before I even saw him.

  “You havin’ fun?” he whispered from behind me.

  I whipped around, clutching my chest. “Geez Archer, you coulda’ scared the livin’ daylights out of me.”

  “Yea, but I didn’t.” He grinned, and then closed his eyes for a minute, sniffing the air around us.

  “You still smell the same,” he said reverently. “Just the way I remember.”

  “Oh yea?” I laughed nervously. “Like greasy bar food and funnel cake?”

  “Nope,” he said, matter of fact. “Like lilacs and honeysuckle. And rain on a summer’s day. Sweet and clean, and so God damned beautiful it hurts. I never forgot that smell, AB. I would be somewhere and that perfume would hit me, and I always had to look. For you.”

  I sucked in a harsh breath, trying not to let his words bother me. I knew they shouldn’t, they were just words. But how he’d remembered the scents of the same perfume I’d worn for the last ten years was beyond me.

  His eyes darted to my neck, and it took me a moment to realize why. Belatedly, I tried to tuck his mama’s gold cross back into my shirt, but his hand came up and stopped me before I could.

  “You’re still wearin’ it,” he croaked.

  “I wear it from time to time,” I said, tearin’ my gaze away. It was a damn lie, because I’d never taken the necklace off, except to replace the chain twice. “But you can have it back if you’d like. Doesn’t seem right, me keepin’ it now.”

  His eyes darkened, and he crossed his arms in that stubborn way of his. “Annabeth, I meant what I said when I gave that to you. I wanted you to have it then, and I want you to have it now. I ain’t got no use for it, and you’re the only woman I ever wanted to give it to. Please don’t make light of that now.”

  I opened my mouth to speak when I saw Bentley and Charlotte headin’ our way. He wasn’t payin’ attention as he talked to Charlotte, and I felt my hands go clammy. After what felt like an eternity he finally looked up, his green eyes meeting my panicked glance at the same time Archer turned towards them.

  Bentley swung Charlotte up over his shoulder and retreated, tickling her like it was all a game.

  “AB?” Archer ground out. “Was that… your daughter?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to play it cool. There was no way he’d gotten a good glance at her. They weren’t close enough for him to see anything.

  “Jesus Almighty!” he shoved his hands through his hair in frustration. “When Roxy told me you and Bentley had a kid, I was thinking a baby. That sure as hell ain’t no baby, Annabeth!”

  “That, is my daughter asshole. And she has a name, it’s Charlotte.”

  “How old is she?” he demanded.

  “That ain’t none of your damned business!”

  “Oh ain’t it?” he laughed coldly. “I’m just wonderin’ how long it was after I rolled out of town that you and Bentley started shackin’ up. Cause from the looks of it, it sure as hell wasn’t long.”

  My face crumbled in a mixture of relief and anguish as his words registered in my brain. It was a relief to know that he didn’t suspect anything, but at the same time, it still hurt that his first conclusion would be that I just started flouncin’ around the minute he left town.

  “What difference does it make Archer?” I asked. “You’ll be gone soon anyway, forgetting me and this place all over again.”

  And with that, I turned on my heel and walked away.

  Chapter Seven

  Archer

  A damn kid. Not a baby. A kid.

  All this time I’d been sittin’ here thinkin’ I done her wrong, and this is what I come home to find. From the looks of it, she didn’t miss me at all while I was gone. Hell, I’m sure Bentley and I were pretty much interchangeable from her attitude today.

  I took a swig of my beer as Blue trotted up next to me and whined. He could tell I was irritated, and he’d been trying his best to comfort me, just like he was trained to do.

  I stared out at the property I’d just bought, wondering if I made the right decision comin’ back here after all. It wasn’t like I hadn’t expected Annabeth to move on in the time I was gone, but lately I’d been kinda’ hoping she hadn’t. It had been six years, but I’d never forgotten her. Somewhere inside of me, I thought maybe it wasn’t just me. Wishful thinking, I guess.

  Now I didn’t know what my life was gonna’ be like here. I couldn’t picture it any other way without her in it. That’s why I came back. But livin’ in a town this size, seein’ her and Bentley together all the time, I didn’t know how I was going to handle that. The son of a bitch still hadn’t had the decency to have a real conversation with me neither. He took off at the Crawfish Festival lookin’ madder than a wet hornet. Didn’t know what to make of that either, but I had every intention on finding out.

  “So dis’ is da’ place huh?” Walter’s voice rang through the evening air. He sounded almost sober for once, and I didn’t know how the hell he knew I was out here.

  “Yea this is the place,” I said.

  He walked up on the porch and I offered him a beer, which he stared at for a long moment like he was actually debating it. He took it though, just like I knew he would. I guess it’s true what they say, about a leopard never changin’ it’s spots.

  “What you gonna’ do with all dis’ land boy? Seems like an awful lot fo’ just one man.”

  “I’m gonna’ train some dogs,” I said, waiting for his smart ass remark.

  “Train dogs?” he stared at me like I’d lost my damn mind.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “To do what?” an obnoxious laugh burst from his chest. “Sit and stay. Roll over?”

  “Service dogs, Walter.” I sighed. “Mostly for combat veterans, but for other people too.”

  The obnoxious grin slipped from his face, and his eyes filled with something I didn’t recognize. They looked glassy, which was odd, because he wasn’t even drunk yet. Yet, being the operative word, of course.

  “Well dat’s…. dat’s real nice boy,” he said. “I didn’t realize you knew how to do dat’ sort o’ thang.”

  “I’ve been workin’ with a program the last couple years.” I nodded at Blue. “That’s where I got this one. I trained him myself.”

  “Well he sure is loyal to you,” Walter said. “I can see dat’ much.”

  “He’s about the only one these days.” I laughed, but both he and I knew it wasn’t really a joke.

  “Yea, well it’ll pass.” Walter shrugged. “The town folk can never stay fixed on any one subject in particular fo’ too long. Don’t you worry boy, if you want dis’ to be yo’ home again, it will be.”

  I tried to keep my mouth from fallin’ open, because that was probably the nicest thing Walter had ever said to me.

  “Just don’t go provin’ ‘em all right about you by kickin’ dust up outta’ here again.”

  There was an edge to his voice that betrayed his sadness, and even though I didn’t want to believe it, I could see how much my departure had hurt him. It was hard to understand, bein’ that he’d only ever called me a good for nothin’ son of a bitch the whole time I was growin’ up.

  But the years that I’d been gone had aged him more than I’d expected, that much was obvious. He had a yellow tinge to his skin, and dark circles beneath his eyes. And as usual when it came to Walter, no matter how much I wanted to hate him, I just never could.

  “I ain’t got no intentions on leavin’ again, Walter. So don’t you worry your scruffy little head about it, okay?”

  Chapter Eight

  Annabeth

  “Charlotte Elizabeth Richards, you get down from there right this minute!”

  “Hmmph,” she spat out as she leapt off the back of the sofa onto the floor. “I hate jam weekend, it’s so boring.”

  “Mmm hmm.” Bentley gave her a teasing grin. “You sure don’t say that when you’re eatin’ all of it though, do ya?”

  Charlotte gave him an innocent shrug and a giggle.

  “Tell you what,” Bentley continued, “maybe next weekend, the three of us can get on outta town for a couple days. Head on over to Lake Fausse Pointe. What do ya say Miss Charlotte?”

  She started to jump up and down with a squeal before I cut her off.

  “Charlotte get on into your room and get dressed please, we’re leavin’ soon, and I need to drop you over at Amy’s place.”

  “But mama…”

  “No buts darlin’, I’m already runnin’ behind. Now please do as I asked.”

  She frowned and walked down the hallway, leaving me and Bentley standing in the kitchen.

  “What the hell was that?” I snapped. “Bentley you can’t just make plans like that…”

  “What’s the big deal?” he shrugged. “It’s just camping.”

  “It’s not just camping and you know it,” I said, unable to hide my frustration. Between him and Archer, I felt like I’d been walkin’ a tightrope the last couple days just tryin’ not to fall off.

  “Is this because of Archer?” he asked, that brow of his twitching again.

  “You know it has nothin’ to do with him,” I said. “Bentley we can’t just go off pretendin’ to be a family for a couple days. It isn’t right, and you know it. I don’t wanna’ hurt you anymore than I already have, and it’ll only serve to confuse Charlotte.”

  “You ain’t even tryin’ Annabeth.” He started pacing the living room. “You just won’t let go of this ridiculous notion that Archer’s gonna’ swoop back in here. He doesn’t give two shits about either of you. How can you not see that? He wasn’t there AB. I was, God dammit. I still am. And you can’t even fuckin’ see me, no matter what I do…”

  “Yoohoo!” Mrs. Gentry’s voice rang out from the front door. “You here Annabeth? I’m ready to help with those boxes.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Gentry,” I called out, “I’m in the kitchen, c’mon in.”

  I turned to Bentley and took in his red expression and sighed in exhaustion.

  “You need to go, Bentley. Please. I can’t deal with this right now.”

  “You don’t ever want to deal with it Annabeth,” he said with a scowl.

  “Am I interruptin’?” Mrs. Gentry popped her head in.

  “No.” I waved her in. “C’mon in. Bentley was just leavin’.”

  He turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  “Geez, what crawled up his…”

  “Nothin’ Mrs. Gentry,” I answered, gesturing to the boxes. “I appreciate you comin’ by to help today though.”

  “It’s no problem.” She smiled. “It feels good to do somethin’ charitable every now and again.”

  Chapter Nine

  Archer

  I was standing at the checkout in the hardware store when I saw all the commotion across the street outside. In the twenty minutes I’d been in the store gatherin’ up stuff for the house, a whole herd of people had congregated outside Tucker’s Grocery Store.

  “Looks like you’re gettin’ the house all set up then,” Henri the owner of the store said. “I heard you bought the old Montgomery place.”

  “I did.” I nodded, distracted. “What the hell’s goin’ on out there?”

  “Oh it’s Annabeth’s Strawberry Jamboree,” he said. “She does it every year for charity. The town goes crazy for that jam of hers. You want to get some, you better get on out there, it goes quick.”

  “Thanks Henri.”

  I took my change and darted out the door, finding my place at the back of the line. Looked like a bunch of damn vultures, but I couldn’t help the small gleam of pride when I thought about Annabeth doin’ this. She’d never made me jam, but I remembered hearin’ stories from the church folks about how fine her jam was.

  As the line inched closer, I could see a handmade sign at the table she had set up.

  Belle Pont Annual Strawberry Jamboree

  All Donations will go to the research and treatment of Congenital Heart Defects in children

  Above the sign on the table was a large glass bottle already stuffed to the brim with cash. And I had to admit, I found the whole thing a little strange. Mrs. Gentry was assisting on one side, while Annabeth was on the other, and I made sure to edge my way into her line as I moved closer.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here,” she said as I made it to the front.

  “What can I say?” I grinned. “I’m a fan of pretty brunettes and strawberry jam, sounds like a win-win to me.”

  “Uh huh.” She smirked. “I’ll just bet you are. Well, we have a two jar limit, since this is for Charity and all, and it’s on a donation basis, so whatever you can afford.”

  I opened up my wallet and stuffed a hundred in the bottle as she slid a couple jars in my direction.

  “Seems like a very specific cause Annabeth.”

  “Yes.” She swallowed nervously. “It is. It’s for The Children’s Heart Foundation. It’s a very reputable cause.”