Holly pressed a hand to her chest. “But she looks so alone.”
Simon watched the woman press the paddle against the shore and push the pirogue out into the water. Soon, she was cleaving the water, channeling her anger into the paddling away.
Like Holly, he wanted to go after the woman. To ease her pain and sense of rejection.
“What if she doesn’t figure out that she is the only one who can make her life better?” Holly asked.
Her grandmother lifted her chin. “I predict she will figure it out sooner rather than later. She will risk all when the time comes, and gain everything for her sacrifice.”
Holly stared at her grandmother, eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you couldn’t predict the future.”
“I said I couldn’t predict your future. Go. See Lady LaChance. I have work to do.” The older woman started gathering glasses.
Holly hurried to add glasses to the tray. “Let me help.”
“I’m old, not helpless.” Madam Gautier lifted the tray with the pitcher and glasses, paused and met her granddaughter’s gaze. “I will do what I can to help. But don’t rely solely on me. Seek the help of others. Voodoo isn’t the only magic you should trust. There are a lot of smart people out there. Let them help.”
“I will, Mémère,” Holly promised. “I love you and our family. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”
“Then explore all possibilities.” She turned with her loaded tray.
Simon got ahead of her to open the screen door.
“And you,” the woman said, her brow creasing fiercely. “The only way to move on is to learn from the past but leave it in the past. Life is short. The thing is, you never know how short. It’s best to live every day like it’s your last. Grab for the joy now. Live. Now.” She disappeared into the house, her words leaving him feeling as if she’d punched him in the gut.
He let the door close and stared at it without really seeing it. The past he relived every night in his dreams rushed through his mind like a movie on continuous replay. Only, this time, he mentally hit the stop button, not pause, where it froze on the image of Johnny dying in his arms.
Full stop, where the movie screen turned black, forcing him to look up and focus on the world around him.
Holly stood at his side, her brow creased, her eyes worried. “Are you all right?”
“How did she know?” he asked.
Holly touched his arm. “Mémère has a way of reading people. She can sense their pain when they aren’t even aware they’re harboring it. She can be brutally spot-on.” Holly hooked her arm through his. “Come on. It’s getting late. We need to get the skiff back to the marina before nightfall, and I have to go to work.”
“Right.” He squared his shoulders and shoved the Voodoo queen’s words of wisdom to the back of his mind. For now.
Focusing on the world right there in front of him, he knew what he had to do.
Protect Holly.
The past wasn’t going to do it for him. Johnny was gone. No amount of regret and wishing otherwise was going to bring him back.
He took her hand and started down the steps.
Holly shook free of his hand. “Go to the skiff without me,” she said.
“I’m not leaving you,” he said.
She smiled. “I know. But I have to release Napoleon.”
Simon shook his head. “He’ll attack.”
“He’ll attack you,” Holly said. “He doesn’t like men or males of any species. He sees them as a threat to his hens.” She waved Simon away. “Go on. I’ll be okay.”
Simon reluctantly walked to the dock and climbed into the boat.
As soon as he was seated, Holly lowered the fishnet from the hook on the post and flipped it over.
