going to finish this, once and for all.”
The marsh grasses down by the river shuddered in the long beat. Bryn felt her heart sink inside her. He might be wearing a plain polo shirt, both buttons undone, and laid-back jeans, but his looks were deceptively simple. His bearing alone revealed the truth of who he had become even if she hadn’t seen the sleek new sports car in the drive. Cole Dempsey was a success, but the question of what drove him was what really unnerved her.
He was a man on a mission. But was it justice…or revenge?
Chapter 2
She wished she hadn’t sent Melodie home.
The main house of Bellefleur was over nine thousand square feet, but with no one else in the mansion tonight but Cole Dempsey, it felt about the size of an airplane lavatory.
Bryn hugged her knees up to her chest, sitting in the middle of the mahogany four-poster in the main second floor bedroom. She had her own private sitting area and a small personal office. It had been her parents’ suite, which Bryn had made over for herself. In the years following Aimee’s death, her mother had spent more time in than out of hospitals being treated for depression. Patsy Louvel had finally come back to Bellefleur—but only to one of the cottages on the grounds, self-imprisoned with her beloved camellias, her keening grief and later, a full-time nurse.
Sometimes Bryn thought she hated Bellefleur as much she loved it, but all she knew for sure was that after more than two hundred years she couldn’t be the Louvel who let it go. She had plans, lots of them. Other families along Louisiana’s famed River Road, Highway 18, that traversed the state following the path of the mighty Mississippi, had found ways to keep their plantations. They offered overnight accommodations, tours, Old South history and craft events.
Slowly, she would be able to finance restoration work on the house and grounds to bring them back to their former glory. Her father’s pride and outdated sense of Louvel nobility would never have allowed it, but now that he was gone, Bryn had taken over. After high school, she’d learned the historic tourism business from the ground up, working for several of the most successful historic plantations as everything from receptionist to tour guide and finally manager. It hadn’t left her with much time for relationships, but she hadn’t cared. Saving Bellefleur had been her goal.
She was starting small, with only herself, Melodie, who worked part-time while finishing college, and the few additional employees she could afford, but the possibilities were endless.
She was even in the process of convincing a Creole chef who had once cooked for her parents to create a restaurant at Bellefleur—if she could get the financial backing. First she had to prove to the bank that she could make a success of the bed and breakfast she’d already opened.
Now Cole Dempsey threatened everything.
He’d returned to unearth a scandal just when she was trying to turn Bellefleur into a tourist destination. She didn’t need talk of murder darkening her chances. Especially if Cole was determined that it was an unsolved murder. That meant the real murderer was still out there, possibly even near Bellefleur. Which couldn’t be true, but what would the mere rumor do to her business?
The soothing palette of ivory, oatmeal and gray in the grand bedroom suite that had once been her parents wasn’t soothing tonight. Bryn rose, paced to the verandah doors, pushing back the creamy silk drapes outlined with grosgrain ribbon. She stared out at the thick, unknowable night. He’d booked two weeks already and had asked Melodie if he could stay longer. And what was worse, seeing him had upset her. Damn him for knowing it so easily, too.
She was still in shock from seeing him, in fact. His chiseled, hard face was almost unrecognizable as that young, gentle teen who’d wooed her in the summer gardens long ago. He’d slip up from the sugarcane fields to find her, his bare muscular arms glistening in the humid heat. He would wink at her, watch her with his remarkable eyes, cast her smiles, and slowly, with his whispered words and stolen kisses, he drew her into his magic world of hopes and dreams. He’d always wanted to make something of himself. He’d been ambitious and arrogant even then.
And she, who had known nothing but privilege, was awed by him. In those days, she’d had everything but feared her own shadow. He’d had nothing but exuded the confidence that he could do anything. Together, they’d steal away on secret dates, sometimes with Aimee’s help, and other times without it—like the night he’d tempted her down the latticed ivywork outside her window and made love to her for the first time under the star-splashed sky.
He’d made her believe that, like him, she could do anything, too. But the truth had been that neither of them could control the events that had torn them apart.
Damn him for coming back.
The phone in her office rang. Bryn hurried across the aged heart-pine floor, her bare feet padding silently. While none of the visitor accommodations included telephones for the sake of their guests’ serenity during their stay, Bryn kept phones installed in her personal office here as well as her business office downstairs. They were the only two land lines in the main house.
“Just checking to see how your meeting went with the bank today,” came Drake Cavanaugh’s voice in response to her hello.
Bryn hesitated, despite the fact he was her oldest friend and had stood by her ever since Aimee’s death. Their relationship had grown by gentle degrees from friendship to fondness, and only recently had Drake expressed a desire to take their longstanding relationship to the next level. His marriage proposal had taken her completely by surprise, though looking back, she realized she’d ignored the signs of his changing feelings.
And now that Cole was back, she knew why.
She’d walled up her emotions fifteen years ago. She’d loved Cole with her whole heart, and the day he’d broken it it had nearly killed her. She’d been protecting herself ever since. Even with Drake.
“It went fine,” she said finally. “But I need to have a good year, that’s all. Then we’ll take a look at the books and they’ll decide if I’m ready for a loan.”
“I’d co-sign and you could get a loan now.”
“I know.” Bryn cradled the phone against her shoulder as she slipped into the comfortable wingback chair behind her desk. “But you know I won’t do that.” Especially now that Drake had revealed his deeper feelings for her. She couldn’t let herself become indebted to him that way, not if she wasn’t sure she would marry him.
“You know I’ll keep offering,” he said. Bryn was quiet, and after a beat, Drake asked, “Is something wrong?”
There was no point in keeping it a secret. Melodie was a chatterbox. The whole town would know by tomorrow. As soon as Melodie mentioned the name of their new guest, people would recognize it. Melodie was young, but even she had heard the story, if not the name of Wade Dempsey’s son. Dempsey itself was a common enough surname, but plenty of older residents in Azalea Bend would remember and put it together.
“Cole Dempsey’s back in town.”
“You’re kidding.”
Now Drake was quiet.
“I wish I were. He’s staying here. He booked a room.”
Drake let out a curse beneath his breath.
“He’s a lawyer now. In
