Bayou Baby Read online

  BAYOU BABY

  Renée Miller

  Copyright 2015 Renée Miller

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  License Notes: This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Ebook formatting by [email protected]

  For Carly.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  OTHER BOOKS BY RENÉE MILLER

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER 1

  Louisiana, 1892

  Rowan plucks the soaked cotton from her body. The air is smothering. She turns onto her back to stare at the cracked ceiling above her bed. Summer hasn’t even begun and the heat is already wretched.

  She sits up and then tugs the thin nightgown over her head before flopping back. Only marginally better. Rowan rolls onto her side and her breath catches. A shadow stands at the curtains. A scream rises in her throat, but she doesn’t make a sound. The shadow moves. Her terror turns to anger.

  “Mama doesn’t sleep in here anymore.” She tells him. “I don’t know how you missed her. She’s on the couch.”

  “Oh I’m not here for your mama.” There’s a smile in his voice.

  Apprehension weighs in her belly. He cannot expect… she shakes her head. “I’m not in the mood for your nonsense. It’s hot and I’m tired. You can play your games another time.”

  “This isn’t a game, girl. I came for you.” He moves closer.

  She draws the sheet up to her throat and scrambles to sit up. Why is he acting so crazy? He knows Mama won’t allow them to be together.

  “If Mama comes in here, you’re going to wish you’d never come. She forbade me to see you anymore, Henri.”

  “She knows I’m here.” He pulls at the sheet.

  Rowan clutches it tightly to her chest.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, you know. Makes no difference to me, I’ll still get what I want. The choice is yours.”

  Panic rises in her throat, to explode in a scream as he drags her toward him. Anger spurs her into action. Rowan kicks at him and bites his hand. In her struggle, she drops the worn sheet.

  He winds his fist in her hair, tugging until she turns her face toward him. “The hard way then? Accept your fate, Rowan; you might like it.”

  “I didn’t like it the first time. I told you that, so leave me alone.”

  “Je suis désolé, cherie. You are a very poor liar.”

  The musky odor of his sweat assaults her senses. On his breath, she smells brandy as his tongue pushes into her mouth. She bites down hard.

  A curse. He jumps back and grips her hair again, giving it a hard yank.

  She cries out as he forces her down to the bed, the nauseating flavor of his blood thick in her mouth.

  “If you lay still, it does not have to hurt. The first time is always uncomfortable, but as I told you then, it gets better.”

  “Get off me.”

  “Not every customer is going be as gentle as me, you know.”

  Mama would not allow this. He is lying.

  He lies on top of her, pulling her thrashing arms over her head. “I know you like to please me, so stop pretending. If you’d shut your foul mouth for once, you might learn what made your mama so popular.”

  “You bastard, I’ll see you suffer. Mama will cut your guts out for doing this.”

  “Your mama won’t do anything. You’ll see how things are eventually. Until then, let’s try to get along. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t stop fighting me.”

  “Where have you been these past weeks? You said you cared for me and then after I laid with you, poof! You vanished. I will not be a fool a second time. You might be larger than me, but I can hurt you in other ways.”

  “Your threats mean nothing to me, cherie. The voodoo nonsense is merely smoke and mirrors.”

  “I will curse you until the day you die. I promise you will find no peace.”

  His harsh laughter echoes in the room. Deaf to her warning, he parts her legs with his knee and moves. She feels him pressed against her body. He looks into her eyes as he thrusts inside of her. The light in his brown eyes ignites a familiar fire in her belly.

  She hates that she wants him, even now when he is raping her, she still longs for his love. But he is just like the other rich dandies in town; selfish and arrogant, with no love in his heart.

  Tears dampen the corners of her eyes, but she will not let them fall. She will not show him weakness. Where is Mama?

  ***

  The struggle in the little shack disturbed the quiet morning. Hidden in the shadows, Jolene rocked slowly in the swing, hugging the blue afghan to her body. Her decision had been sound. Henri couldn’t expect to have Rowan for nothing. He refused to marry her, so he would pay, just like any other man.

  The girl was lucky to learn these things under her mother’s guidance. Henri would never beat her or hurt her intentionally should he be less than satisfied. Hell, he even paid double what the whores in town get. He’d begged her to give Rowan to him permanently. She hadn’t done that, though she’d been sorely tempted. A kept woman at least had her own home and only one man to please, but that would have destroyed Rowan. Jolene only wanted to teach her daughter a lesson, not break her spirit entirely. Rowan had to learn her place in the world before it was too late. Yes, it had to be done.

  Mosquitoes buzzed as they floated through the damp air. The smell of the swamp drifted, sweet floral mixed with a faint fishy odor. Jolene Maynor whispered silent prayers hoping to protect her child and Henri. Rowan’s magic could be strong, but Jolene sometimes wondered if she realized her own power. For his sake, she hoped Rowan knew nothing, or Henri wouldn’t live to see another day. Jolene continued to pray. The Goddess didn’t protect men, but under the circumstances, she might be lenient just this once.

  ***

  Inside the shack, Rowan glared at the man she had known since she was a child. He pulled his pants on and grinned.

  “Now, it wasn’t all that bad, cherie.” He said. “It’s best to get these things over with anyhow. What are you saving yourself for anyway? Marriage? Ha!”

  Rowan remained silent as he moved about the tiny room. He passed the rickety old dresser, pausing to finger the delicate lace doily that covered the top, and then picked up Rowan’s brush, a gift from the ma
n who used to visit her mother. The only visitor who had taken the time to know Rowan, and who often brought her pretty things like the doily and the silver-handled brush.

  The room had once been her sanctuary. Now it stank of vermin and sex like the rest of their horrible shack. She should have known Mama would pull something like this eventually. Depravity and deceit were all the woman knew.

  Henri glanced back, while stroking the soft bristles of the brush. “Don’t be mad at your mama either. It’s just life, girl. You have your place and it’s high time you learned it.”

  Rowan moved off the bed. Her legs trembled and her chest hurt from unshed tears. She believed Henri loved her, that he would marry her eventually. So stupid. Deep inside, she’d known better. What would a Fontaine want with a swamp rat? She didn’t cover herself as she approached him.

  “You listen to me, Henri Fontaine. I don’t care what my mama told you. What you did here was wrong. I did not want you, and I will never want you. Wasn’t it enough that you rejected me? I understood my place when you left me here to rot with Mama.”

  “I did not leave you. I am right here.”

  “You know what I mean. Do you enjoy humiliating me?”

  “It has nothing to do with humiliation. Don’t be so arrogant, cherie. You are property I wanted to own. Nothing more.”

  She hated how his words cut into her heart. Property. Nothing more. “You’re a thief then.”

  “I bought you, cherie.”

  “Liar.”

  “You think Jolene would give anything away? Ha! Never. I paid for your sorry ass this time, because it was the only way I could have you again, so don’t you be getting all high and mighty with me. I tried to save you from your fate at first, offered to put you in a nice house with fine clothes and plenty of food, but even your mama doesn’t think you’re worth that.”

  Rowan’s cheeks warmed. Why was she even surprised that Mama would sell her like a piece of furniture? Henri had sniffed around her like a dog after a bone for years. At first, she’d been flattered; he was an attractive man, tall and lean with warm coffee-colored eyes. Too late, she realized his pretty words were nothing but a ruse. It was just like Mama to snatch at a chance to make a few dollars.

  “You are nothing special,” Henri buttoned his shirt. A lock of brown hair fell over his eyes and he brushed it away. “You’re just a whore’s daughter living in a swamp. You really think a brave knight will rescue you? He would come out here, marry you, and take you away?” Henri laughed again.

  She picked up a small mirror from the dresser, and hurled it at him.

  He dodged.

  The mirror hit the wall and shattered across the battered wood floor.

  “Oh now, cherie, that’s bad luck you know. No one is ever coming to save you. You’re a cursed half-breed. Your blood is tainted. Now, you best get rested up; I might come back later to get my money’s worth. With all your crying and carrying on, I barely enjoyed any of that. Remember the first time? How you moaned and purred at the feel of my lips on your—” he ducked, avoiding a bedpan sailing over his head. “Temper, temper, Rowan. It’s not my fault you had childish notions of marriage and love.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “I never once claimed to love you.”

  “Get out.”

  “Come on, if you’re nice, I’ll show you how to please a man proper. You’ll need to learn that or you’ll have to stay in the swamp like your mama forever. Frankly, I’m a little upset that she didn’t bother to show you what I like before I came here. Ah well, once I’m through teaching you, you’ll be the most rode whore in the city.”

  “Get out,” she turned to the small window by the bed. The sun had started to rise. Through the dim orange glow she could make out the familiar shape of cypress trees growing along the bayou. “Get out now, Henri. I never want to see your face again unless I’m looking down on you as they lower you into the ground.”

  Henri chuckled but drew back the curtain that served as her door. “You can’t hurt me. You play at being a witch, but you’re nothing so special. You’re a whore. Get used to it.”

  Rowan closed her eyes.

  His footsteps clomped on the porch outside.

  Henri would pay for this; she wouldn’t rest until he suffered for what he had done to her. She wouldn’t need magic to get even, although she was likely to use it if she could.

  Until that moment arrived, she would wait and plan. Right now, she had Mama to tend to. She didn’t know what the woman was thinking, but knowing Mama, it wasn’t going to turn out well.

  CHAPTER 2

  Rowan pushed through the screen door, and winced when it shrieked in protest. So much for the element of surprise.

  “You won’t harm him. I won’t let you.” Mama said from the shadows.

  Rowan stepped onto the porch, its warped boards creaking and groaning under her weight. “How dare you sell me to a rat like Henri Fontaine? How dare you sell me to anyone?”

  “How dare I, hmm? Guess I’ve been letting you get carried away with your fancies. You ain’t nothing. You hear me? I own you and I have every right to do what I want with you.”

  “I’m not some object that you can just buy and sell, Mama. I’m a human being.”

  “I’ve sheltered you far too long here in the swamp. You don’t know how the world works, honey. Women might be better off than we were when I was young, but as civilized as we like to believe we are, women will never be more than a pretty trinket to hang on a man’s arm. Even if you found some man foolish enough to marry you, you’d still be property.”

  “At least he might love me. That’s more than I can say for my own mother. And I’d be out of this swamp, in a fine house with fine clothes.”

  “Only white women marry up, child. Are you a white woman?”

  The swing rocked faster as her mother’s anger grew. In the trees, the leaves fluttered when the wind picked up. Her mouth twisted into a bitter smile.

  Rowan stepped off the porch and looked up into the trees. Eyes closed, she let the warm wind whip through her red hair. “Mama, what have you been conjuring out here in the dark? Are you trying to bind my magic?”

  “And if I am?”

  “Your Goddess is nothing against the dark spirits. You might have everyone in town fooled, but I know your magic is nothing more than parlor tricks.”

  Jolene rose from the swing and walked to the edge of the battered old porch. “You cannot harm Henri. I have made sure you won’t. You best not anger the Goddess or you’ll see how much power she really holds. She will stop you from doing any harm. He was just a pawn, a tool I needed to prepare you for what is to come. I did it for your own good. Don’t you get it?”

  “I don’t need magic to see he gets what he deserves; in time he will set his own trap. You should worry about yourself, Mama. You seem to have lost your common sense. I’m wondering how taking Henri’s money and allowing him to grunt like a pig while he pokes his skinny little bit into me is a good thing. What has it taught me? Aside from learning that I don’t wish to do that ever again, I’ve learned nothing.”

  Her voice remained calm, but Rowan wasn’t. Her heart raced and her vision blurred with fury. She didn’t want to harm her mother, but she had to teach her a lesson. Rowan was not a possession, and she would not be anyone’s slave.

  Jolene inhaled and turned to her daughter. Her chin trembled.

  Rowan felt an ache in her chest.

  “I’m sick.”

  Rowan frowned as the words filtered through her anger.

  “I’m dying, I don’t have much longer. You need to be looked after and I want to see to it while I’m still here.”

  Rowan continued to stare. Jolene Maynor would not die any time soon. Although life on the bayou aged most women by years, at thirty-seven Jolene was still strikingly beautiful and healthy. Her silky black hair held not a touch of grey, and her caramel skin glowed with health. Her dark eyes sparkled with her vibrant spirit. Except now, they had di
mmed, but Rowan knew her mother to be a good actress.

  “I’m not a fool, Mama. You needed money and Henri paid double what he usually pays for you. You are both slimy capon, yellow to the core. Pretending you are dying is not going to change this. I can tell when you’re lying.”

  “I wish I were, but I speak the truth. I am dying and I need to make plans for you. A young girl can’t stay out here in the swamp alone.”

  “You did just fine.”

  “I had protection, and I was never truly alone. You will have nothing. The vultures will be here before I’m cold in my grave. There are worse things than what Henri did, you know.”

  “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”

  “Oh can you? I’m not so sure about that. You were not able with Henri. You think another man would be as gentle with you or as kind? My eye! You need to realize what you’re up against out there. In the real world, you are not a person. The color of your skin might be light enough to allow you to pass in other cities, but here it makes you less than nothing. As enamored as men are with your body or your pretty face, it doesn’t change what you are: a half-breed whore’s daughter. You wouldn’t last a week.”

  Rowan was silent. She could pass as a white woman; her skin had a golden hue, but not the darker brown of her mother’s. True, she would have to leave Louisiana to fool anyone, but she would last much longer than a week. Unlike her mother, she did not depend on anyone but herself.

  It irked her that the spirits abandoned her when Henri came. She had called every one she could think of, and still Henri had taken what he wanted. However, she didn’t blame the spirits. They would have come, but she had been too distraught to cast her spells properly. Rowan knew she had to work on her focus, or she would never be able to call them at will.

  “Your spirits didn’t come to help you because they are evil.” Mama said, as if reading Rowan’s mind. “They only care about what they can gain from you and since you have nothing, they don’t help you. You’ll see I’m right.”