Read Online East of Orleans by Renee' Irvin - Free Book Online Page A

Besides, if he comes anywhere near her, I’ll shoot him! I swear to you I’ll fill his britches with buckshot!” With angry eyes, Granny leaned into Jesse.
    “Rollins is a no-good, lying buzzard, meaner than a black snake. If Lila and Isabella are willing, we can keep you in chores for a while. Ain’t got no money, but we sure could use some help with the crops. We’re thinking ‘bout planting us some cotton. We can give you a place to sleep in the barn and three square meals.” Granny narrowed her eyes and hissed, “And I believe I can wash them clothes a little better.”
    Isabella smiled. “That’s awful kind, Granny.”
    Lila pushed her hands into her skirt pockets and looked defeated. “Lord help us.”
    Jesse’s face lit up. “Praise the Lord! My pa always say the Lord moves in mysterious ways and he shure done moved mysterious this afternoon. Thank you, Mrs. Lila, Miss Isabella, and thank you, Granny!” Isabella grinned and met Jesse’s gaze. Jesse untied the horse’s reins and jumped into the wagon. Isabella laid her head on Granny’s shoulder, while Lila stared into the thick woods that blanketed the Chattahoochee River .
    As Jesse maneuvered their old red wagon, the sun set across Shakerag Valley .
    Isabella held tight to her box with the hat that she couldn’t wait to wear one day.

It was a crisp , crimson-shaded autumn dusk, when Jules McGinnis arrived in the parlor of Mae Patterson’s whorehouse. Jules had just poured himself a shot of whiskey when he swung around to the sound of Jacqueline’s crinkling skirts.
    Before she entered the room, she could smell the scent of his tobacco. She stood there with a provocative look, hands on her hips, ebony locks falling to her waist. She certainly belonged amidst the Napoleon urns, damask-draped pink marble columns, faded imported silks, heavily fringed pillows. A magnificent Baccarat crystal chandelier hung low in the center of the room, reflecting the fire and the colors of Sevres porcelain. One had to teeter around the room so carefully, to avoid knocking over a minute statue of Josephine herself.
    Jules turned up his whiskey and continued to stand. His eyes followed Jacqueline as she seated herself on a throne of embossed aqua silk, protected by princely arms. Jules smiled out of the corner of his mouth as he did so often before announcing his thoughts. He removed a cigar from his breast pocket and noticed Jacqueline’s black cat jump into her lap. He could hear the cat purr from across the room.
    Jacqueline stroked the cat’s head and crossed one lithe leg over the other. She adjusted her pale silk gown and pulled the straps down over her shoulders. She smiled a seductive smile, looking much like her cat.
    “What do you want with me?” she asked.
    Jules removed his hat, put down his cigar, shook his head from side to side, walked over and closed the door. He leaned against the doorjamb. His eyes focused on hers and stripped away all pretenses. He made an impatient gesture and said with a raised tone, “Woman, you beat all I have ever seen. You want to go and get yourself killed?”
    “I don't know what you're talking about. How much of that whiskey have you had to drink?” She glanced at herself in a gilt mirror. Then, with a coy smile she said, “You are a crazy man.”
    The muscles in Jules face tightened, his eyes moved down her body. He hated himself; he always had control of his feelings, but this woman would not let him forget her. She was all he thought about.
    “You may play those games where you come from, but don’t come around here with your bag o’ tricks, ‘cause sooner or later you’re gonna get found out. And when you do, it ain’t gonna be pretty.”
    Jacqueline cocked her head and her eyes flickered. She released the cat from her lap.
    Jules noticed that she was indifferent to his words. The cat jumped over and bit him. Jules knocked the cat off and watched it run and rub himself against the door.
    “Goddamn