'Oh,' I said, as if my heart had turned to lead. For a moment I couldn't breathe. The air seemed even more humid, more tepid.
'But it's not a happy marriage,' he said quickly. 'We are childless and the doctors say that is the way it will always be. My wife has some difficulties.'
Despite the weakness in my legs, I stood up quickly. 'We must return to the shack, monsieur. I must help my mother prepare for the day's selling.'
'Of course.'
'I am sorry I caused this to happen to you. Mama will get your clothing dried quickly. It will be better if we just walk along the bank,' I added.
He stood. 'Gabrielle. My wife is even more bitter about our marriage than I am. She thinks I think less of her. It's as if a wall has fallen between us these days. A house, a home, a marriage, should be filled with love. Two people should do everything they can to make each other's lives more meaningful, happier; but we are like two strangers sharing coffee these days.
'My heart hasn't felt as light and happy for some time as it did when I first saw you emerge from the fog in the swamp. You are truly like a breath of fresh air. I assure you, I mean it when I say I would do anything in my power to keep sadness from your door.'
'Gabrielle.' He took my hand into his again and I turned. 'You felt something special when we kissed, too, didn't you?'
'I do not trust my own feelings anymore, monsieur. Besides,' I added, gazing down, 'you are married, monsieur. I don't want to go looking for any more trouble; it has a way of finding me itself.'
'I understand.' He nodded and then smiled. 'Can we be friends?'
I shook my head.
'Why not? I'm really a nice guy,' he said, smiling. 'I'll bring you references.'
'I'm sure you are nice, monsieur.'
'Then?'
I lifted my gaze to look into his mesmerizing green eyes. 'Being friends with you . . . it's like being a starving person in Mama's kitchen and promising only to take a small taste of the shrimp etouffee, monsieur. Why fool yourself into believing the impossible? Once you taste it, you can't help yourself.'
He laughed. 'Not only beautiful and magical, but wise, too. I'm tormented by the possibility we will never see each other again. You won't turn me away, will you?'
'I'm sure you have fine, well-to-do friends in New Orleans, monsieur. You don't need a poor Cajun girl in the bayou.'
'That's exactly what I need,' he said as we continued to walk along. He still held on to my hand. 'Someone who will tell me the truth and listen with sincerity to what I say. I'll pay you for your time. I know. I'll hire you as my personal swamp guide,' he added. 'I'm sure there is a great deal more you can show me.'
'But, monsieur . . .'
'As long as you don't dunk me in the water every time we go poling,' he added.
I couldn't help but laugh.
'That's better. Look at me, soaked but happy. I'm like a little boy again,' he said.
His exuberance swept me along. I thought of dozens of reasons to protest and refuse him, but he was too cheerful and too determined.
And something inside me kept me from shutting the door.
11
The Hidden Ring
'What happened?' Mama asked the moment she set eyes on us.
'A little accident, Madame Landry,' Pierre replied quickly, before, I had a chance to explain. 'It's no one's fault, or if it is anyone's fault, it's mine. I was talking so much and asking so many questions, Gabrielle was distracted while we were in her canoe.'
'You turned your canoe over in the canal?' Mama asked me with surprise. She knew how expert I was at poling a pirogue.
'No, Mama. I hit a rock while we were in the small pirogue and I fell out.'
She was nonplussed for a moment, her eyes shifting from Pierre to me.
'Go change,' she ordered me. She turned back to Pierre. 'I have some clean, dry clothes for you to put on, monsieur. One moment.'
'Please, don't go to any trouble,' Pierre said, but Mama was already off to fetch the clothing. Pierre gazed at me and shrugged.
'Gabrielle!' Mama called from the stairway.
'Coming, Mama.' I hurried up behind her.
