Read Online Heaven in a Wildflower by Patricia Hagan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Patricia Hagan
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least, she could dream about another kind of existence.
Spying the lights of a passing riverboat, she wondered what it would be like to travel the mighty river north. If she were a man, she knew she’d probably never be able to settle down, wanting, instead, to see as much of the world as possible.
Startled by the sound of movement in the darkness, she called nervously, “Is someone there?”
Brett pulled the draping fronds apart and stepped inside, barely able to make her out in the darkness. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was out walking and saw you come down here. Mind if I join you?”
She was glad to see him. Despite all her resolve, she’d thought of him constantly since their last meeting. “You might as well,” she replied, laughing. “But I find it strange after all my years of coming here without anyone knowing, that suddenly my secret is discovered.”
“I won’t tell anybody.” He lowered himself to sit beside her. “I’m surprised nobody noticed before now. Pretty as you are, somebody should watch you all the time.”
She felt a warm tremor and instinctively moved a bit away from him, lest he notice the effect he was having. He was shirtless, and she tried not to look at his glorious chest. “So what brings you out this time?” She forced a teasing lilt to her voice. “Have you found more of my clothes?”
“Have you left any hidden about?” he fired right back.
“No, I’ve been forbidden to go into the bayou, don’t you remember?” She feigned mock horror. “And I’d never dare disobey the fearless alligator killer.”
He lowered himself further, till he was lying on the ground at her feet. He rolled to his side and propped his head on his hand as he gazed up at her. A snappy breeze was blowing in from the river, sending the willow fronds into a frenzied dance, as well as allowing mellow moonlight to steal inside and illuminate their shelter. “I think you’re making fun of me.”
“I wouldn’t have to, if you’d tell me your real name.”
“There’s no need.”
“It feels kind of strange talking to someone, when I don’t know who he really is.”
He gave a careless shrug. “It’s not like we run into each other every day, though it might be nice,” he ventured to add.
Anjele was enjoying the banter, well aware that moments like this in the future would be nonexistent. Marriage. Babies. Tea parties. Church. That would be her world—not slipping away in the night to meet a handsome, exciting man in the cradling arms of a willow tree on the banks of her beloved Mississippi River. Coquettishly she asked, “And what would we do if we did? You say I don’t belong in the bayou. Where would you take me?”
“Do you have to be taken somewhere?” Once more, he was impressed by her beauty, her lovely face bathed in silver moonlight, emerald eyes shining with anticipation as she waited for him to weave a world of wonder. “Maybe I can take you there with words,” he offered softly. “Where would you like to go?”
She didn’t try to contain her excitement. There was no need, for theirs was a budding friendship without pretense. Each knew the other for what they were, and it was a comfortable awareness. “Where have you been?” she wanted to know.
“Everywhere. In three years at sea, I’ve probably been to almost every major port in the world.”
“Tell me what you found the most intriguing,” she urged, thinking again what warm, smoldering eyes he had, and wishing there were more light, so she could see the dimple appear at the corner of his mouth when he smiled.
He said he’d found it all exciting. He described for her the ports of the Pacific, where most American whaling ships were attracted by bowhead whales. He also enjoyed the trips to the Arctic, where the long hours of daylight made it possible to operate around the clock. His job, he said, had been to man one of the light double-ended rowing boats, put off in pursuit with hand harpoons and a
Spying the lights of a passing riverboat, she wondered what it would be like to travel the mighty river north. If she were a man, she knew she’d probably never be able to settle down, wanting, instead, to see as much of the world as possible.
Startled by the sound of movement in the darkness, she called nervously, “Is someone there?”
Brett pulled the draping fronds apart and stepped inside, barely able to make her out in the darkness. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was out walking and saw you come down here. Mind if I join you?”
She was glad to see him. Despite all her resolve, she’d thought of him constantly since their last meeting. “You might as well,” she replied, laughing. “But I find it strange after all my years of coming here without anyone knowing, that suddenly my secret is discovered.”
“I won’t tell anybody.” He lowered himself to sit beside her. “I’m surprised nobody noticed before now. Pretty as you are, somebody should watch you all the time.”
She felt a warm tremor and instinctively moved a bit away from him, lest he notice the effect he was having. He was shirtless, and she tried not to look at his glorious chest. “So what brings you out this time?” She forced a teasing lilt to her voice. “Have you found more of my clothes?”
“Have you left any hidden about?” he fired right back.
“No, I’ve been forbidden to go into the bayou, don’t you remember?” She feigned mock horror. “And I’d never dare disobey the fearless alligator killer.”
He lowered himself further, till he was lying on the ground at her feet. He rolled to his side and propped his head on his hand as he gazed up at her. A snappy breeze was blowing in from the river, sending the willow fronds into a frenzied dance, as well as allowing mellow moonlight to steal inside and illuminate their shelter. “I think you’re making fun of me.”
“I wouldn’t have to, if you’d tell me your real name.”
“There’s no need.”
“It feels kind of strange talking to someone, when I don’t know who he really is.”
He gave a careless shrug. “It’s not like we run into each other every day, though it might be nice,” he ventured to add.
Anjele was enjoying the banter, well aware that moments like this in the future would be nonexistent. Marriage. Babies. Tea parties. Church. That would be her world—not slipping away in the night to meet a handsome, exciting man in the cradling arms of a willow tree on the banks of her beloved Mississippi River. Coquettishly she asked, “And what would we do if we did? You say I don’t belong in the bayou. Where would you take me?”
“Do you have to be taken somewhere?” Once more, he was impressed by her beauty, her lovely face bathed in silver moonlight, emerald eyes shining with anticipation as she waited for him to weave a world of wonder. “Maybe I can take you there with words,” he offered softly. “Where would you like to go?”
She didn’t try to contain her excitement. There was no need, for theirs was a budding friendship without pretense. Each knew the other for what they were, and it was a comfortable awareness. “Where have you been?” she wanted to know.
“Everywhere. In three years at sea, I’ve probably been to almost every major port in the world.”
“Tell me what you found the most intriguing,” she urged, thinking again what warm, smoldering eyes he had, and wishing there were more light, so she could see the dimple appear at the corner of his mouth when he smiled.
He said he’d found it all exciting. He described for her the ports of the Pacific, where most American whaling ships were attracted by bowhead whales. He also enjoyed the trips to the Arctic, where the long hours of daylight made it possible to operate around the clock. His job, he said, had been to man one of the light double-ended rowing boats, put off in pursuit with hand harpoons and a
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