A Time to Keep (26 page)

“How was your conference?”

“It went okay.”

Shiloh reluctantly pulled his gaze away from Gwen and glanced up at the monitor. Keith Nichols would inform her that Willis Raymond Benton's attorney was going to base his client's defense on someone dropping crystal meth into his drink when he and a group of his friends got together to celebrate their college graduation.

Jury selection for Benton's trial that was scheduled to begin
in late July had been postponed indefinitely, pending the defendant's full recovery from surgery to repair a ruptured aorta. Willie Ray had survived a horrific automobile accident only to face death from a lethal mix of drugs and alcohol.

Thirty-year-old undercover DEA agent Inez Leroux, who looked young enough to be a college student, had reported to the regional DEA field director that she'd befriended one of Willie Ray's friends, hoping to gather evidence to locate the meth lab.

The information on the arrival and departure monitors changed. “They're on the ground,” Shiloh said in a quiet voice.

He thought about the time he'd met Deandrea's parents for the first time, then quickly dismissed it. He and Deandrea had married for the wrong reason: lust. He wanted to marry Gwen because not only did he love her, but he was also in love with her.

* * *

Gwen flashed a dazzling smile when she spied her mother and father. Paulette Taylor, carrying a garment bag over her arm, walked several paces ahead of her husband who was towing a large Pullman. They were the poster couple for middle age: salt-and-pepper hair, smooth, glowing skin, slender, conservatively dressed.

Gwen met her mother, wrapping her arms around her neck and kissing her soft, scented cheek. Paulette Taylor had always turned heads whenever she entered a room. She was petite, and had affected a short fashionable haircut that flattered her round face and delicate features. The silver in her hair was the perfect foil for her nut-brown complexion.

“Hi, Mama. You look beautiful, as usual.”

Paulette pulled back, smiling. Her daughter looked different. She radiated a glow that hadn't been apparent when she was engaged to Craig Hemming.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She kissed Gwen's forehead, then reached for her left hand. The ring on Gwen's finger was
magnificent. “It's beautiful.” Her voice was soft, reverent. “Does he make you happy?”

“I'm delirious, Mama.” Turning, Gwen motioned to her fiancé standing a distance away watching the interchange. “I want you to meet Shiloh.”

He took three long strides, smiling at the woman who'd given birth to the woman he knew he would love forever. Leaning down from his impressive height, he kissed Paulette's cheek.

“Welcome to Louisiana.”

Paulette's delicate jaw dropped, dark eyes widening as she stared numbly at the star pinned to the tan blouse before her gaze swept over his uniform.

“You're a cop,” she whispered once she'd recovered her voice.

Shiloh's gaze shifted from his future mother-in-law to his fiancée. “Only until the end of the year.”

“But…but Gwendolyn told me that you were a lawyer.”

“I am an attorney, Mrs. Taylor.”

“Stop interrogating the man, Paul,” Millard Taylor chastised softly, calling his wife of more than three decades by her pet name. His clear brown eyes crinkled in a smile as he extended his hand to Shiloh. “Mills Taylor.”

Shiloh grasped Gwen's father's hand; he liked the friendly, spontaneous man. “Shiloh Harper, sir.”

Millard shook his head. “None of that sir business. It's Mills.”

“Okay, Mills.” Shiloh reached for the Taylors' luggage, his free hand going to the small of Paulette's back, leaving Gwen to follow with her father.

He would give the Taylors a personal police escort back to St. Martin Parish.

* * *

Gwen sat next to her father on a cushioned rattan love seat on Moriah's porch, her head resting on his shoulder. “I've never known Mama to go to bed this early.”

Moriah had spent all day cooking Creole and Cajun dishes in a celebration of the state's cuisine: shrimp Creole and étouffée, dirty rice, pan-fried catfish, red beans and sausages, and a spicy jambalaya.

Gwen had made
maquechoux,
a Cajun dish of mixed vegetables that Moriah had taught her to make, and a pan of rich, buttery cornbread.

Millard smiled. “She didn't get much sleep last night. You know she comes undone whenever she has to fly.”

Nodding, Gwen closed her eyes. Her mother did not like flying, and had to swallow her protests once Shiloh informed the elder Taylors that they would not spend a week in a hotel, but at his mother's house. Paulette pouted during the drive southward but her attitude changed as the topography changed. The untamed beauty of Southern Louisiana's bayou had left her awestruck.

She opened her eyes and stared through the mesh of the screened-in porch. There was a solid wall of black beyond the beams of the porch lamps. It had only taken three months for her to get used to living in the country.

“Why don't you go inside where it's cool, Daddy?” The intense summer heat and humidity lingered for hours after the setting sun.

“I'm good, princess. I can't lie down on a full stomach.” He patted his flat belly. “Moriah is an incredible cook.”

Gwen nodded. “That she is.” Ian had planned a special dinner for her parents the following evening at the Outlaw.

Millard sighed. “I can't believe I ate so much.”

“You weren't the only one who overate.”

He angled his head, staring at Gwen. “I've never seen you eat so much. Are you sure you're not…” His words trailed off when he realized what he wanted to ask his daughter was too personal in nature.

Gwen smiled and snuggled closer to her father's side. She'd caught his meaning immediately. “No, Daddy. I'm not pregnant.”

There was a pause before he asked, “Do you and Shiloh plan on starting a family?”

Do you want to make a baby?
Shiloh's query was imprinted on her brain.

A smile softened her mouth. “Yes.”

“When?”

“As soon as we're married.”

“Why wait?”

Gwen's forehead furrowed with her father's query. She straightened. “Are you saying I shouldn't wait to get married before becoming pregnant?”

“No, princess, I'd never presume to tell you how to live your life. But, why are you waiting until the end of the year to get married?Your mother and I coming down here should've been for your wedding, not just to meet your future in-laws.”

She wavered, trying to comprehend what she was hearing. Why was her father pressuring her to change her plans? “Shiloh has less than six months to finish out his father's term as sheriff before he goes back to the district attorney's office.”

Millard lifted his eyebrows in a questioning expression. “And?”

“And what, Daddy?”

“What does that have to do with you marrying him before the end of the year?”

“He carries a gun, Daddy.”

“Most law enforcement officers do.”

“I know that.”

“So, what's the problem, Gwendolyn?”

Whenever her father called her Gwendolyn it usually preceded a heated verbal exchange. Her jaw hardened. “I don't want to become a cop's widow.”

Reaching up, Millard tugged gently on the curls covering her ear. “Nothing is guaranteed, princess. Look what happened to your brother. When Langston was born your mother and I never ever would've believed that we would bury him. You've been obsessed with calendars, planners, and todo lists from the time you learned to read and write. Langston wasn't that privileged once he was diagnosed with leukemia. He had to live every day as if it were his last.

“You have something Langston didn't have—your health and the chance to become an adult. You're blessed to have found someone like Shiloh. He told me that he loves you and wants to spend the rest of his life taking care of you. Don't blow it because you can't let go of your New Year's resolutions and wish lists. You're so busy planning your future that you're forgetting how to enjoy life. Marry the man and give your mother a grandchild so she can stop nagging the hell out of me because of some silly argument she had with Odessa.”

Gwen frowned. “What does Lauren's mother have to do with my having a baby?”

Millard shook his head. “Don't start me lying, Gwendolyn,” he drawled. “I love my brother's wife, but I don't know how he's put up with Odessa all these years. She's the most opinionated woman on the planet.”

“What did Aunt Dessa say to Mama?”

“The rumor is that she said something insensitive about not being totally fulfilled until you've had grandchildren.”

“But that's only Aunt Dessa's opinion, Daddy.”

“That's what I told your mother, but she wouldn't listen to me. She claims Odessa has always been jealous of her.”

Gwen stared at her father, complete surprise freezing her features. This was the first time she'd heard that the two women who'd married brothers were less than amicable toward each other.

“That's so juvenile,” she whispered, recovering her voice.

“That's why I stay out of it.”

Gwen settled back against her father again. “I am going to marry Shiloh and make you a grandfather.” She'd said it with so much conviction, as if certain she were carrying Shiloh's child beneath her heart.

The night before Shiloh was scheduled to leave for his conference in Baton Rouge they'd made love without using protection. In a moment of madness, Shiloh was unable to stop and she hadn't asked him to, and it was only after they lay together after a shared flight of free-fall that they were cognizant of the consequences of unprotected sex.

Shiloh was effusive in his apology while she hadn't been as upset as he. Unknowingly, she had let go some of the rigid rules for running her life. Falling in love had changed her.

“Mama and Aunt Dessa better settle their mess before my wedding. I'm not going to put up with them getting into it on my big day.”

Millard patted her cheek. “Don't worry. I'll tell my brother to talk to his wife.”

Gwen sucked her teeth. “You know Uncle Roy is a pussycat whenever it comes to Odessa.”

“She will not spoil your wedding. I promise you that.”

“Thanks, Daddy.”

There was a long, comfortable silence with only the nocturnal sounds of bayou wildlife serenading the countryside. It had been a long time, too long, since Gwen had sat with her father, his arms holding her protectively.

“I like your young man, princess.”

Gwen couldn't help the smile stealing its way across her face. “So do I.”

“If that's so, then why aren't you with him?”

Heat flooded her face. She'd told Shiloh that she would
sleep at Moriah's during her parents' visit. “I can't sleep with him while you and Mama are here.”

“Why can't you?” Millard asked. “Your mother and I slept together two years before we got married.” Leaning over, he dropped a kiss on her hair. “Get out of here before it gets too late. And tell my future son-in-law that I'm ready to go fishing whenever he is.”

Gwen kissed her father's cheek. “I will. And thank you, Daddy.”

He angled his head. “What for, princess?”

She slipped off the love seat. “I thank you for helping me to see life from another angle.”

She was alive, in love, and looked forward to sharing her life with a man who made her want to have his babies. She'd made lists all of her life, crossing and adding items to suit the situation.

However, when she made the decision to relocate to Louisiana she hadn't planned on meeting a man or falling in love with him. But it all had happened so quickly that she hadn't had time to formulate a game plan.

Shiloh Harper had come into her life like a sirocco, sweeping her emotions up in a maelstrom of uncertainty. But, on the other hand, there was one thing she was certain of—that she intended to hold onto him for an eternity. This was a time to keep.

Millard stood up and pulled Gwen to his chest. He knew he'd neglected his daughter emotionally when she needed him most. He may have lost his son, but he still had his daughter. She was his firstborn
and
his only child.

“I know I don't say it enough, but I so love you, baby girl.”

Tears quickly filled Gwen's eyes as she sagged weakly against her father. For years she'd cried out silently for attention from her father. As her brother lay dying she was in the
full throes of puberty with erratic and fluctuating hormone levels, her inability to accept her rapidly changing body, and her belief that her parents no longer loved her.

“And I love you, too, Daddy.” She sobbed, tears flowing unchecked.

They stood together, offering love and comfort, unaware of a pair of dark green eyes watching the interchange. Moriah turned and retreated to her bedroom. Picking up a telephone, she spoke softly into the receiver before replacing it on the cradle. She then sat down in her favorite armchair and waited.

* * *

Gwen's sobs had subsided to soft hiccups when she felt her father stiffen. Pulling back, she glanced up at the stunned expression on his face. “What's the matter, Daddy?”

“There's someone here for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Millard dropped his arms. “Turn around, princess, and see for yourself.”

Gwen turned to find Shiloh standing on the top step leading to the enclosed porch. He'd eaten with them, but didn't linger because he was scheduled to work a midnight to 8:00 a.m. shift.

But he was back, dressed in a white T-shirt and a pair of cutoffs. She watched, as if in slow motion, as he opened the porch door and walked in.

Shiloh had driven like a maniac to get to his mother's house after her cryptic call. Once he heard Moriah say,
Gwen's crying
he'd abruptly ended the call and raced over. Normally what would've been a ten-minute drive was accomplished in under five.