LITMIR.BIZ

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      She patted the top step. “Come sit with me and we’ll count the first stars.”

      Andy dropped down beside her, just a little sulky with his elbows on his knees and his chin propped on his fists.

      “You can’t see the stars if you’re looking at the water.”

      He dutifully looked up, his lower lip poking out like a shelf. “Wow. There’s lots up there already.” Interested now, he forgot to pout.

      They counted more than twenty as the sky transformed into an inky purple above the tall cypress trees. When she heard him yawn, she nudged him back inside the “swamp fort.” Leaning against the doorway, she kept her weary little man on task as he chattered through the bedtime rituals.

      The little things like pajamas and brushing teeth felt so normal even in Mama Leonie’s rambling little shack. “Which one will it be tonight?” She hefted the backpack full of comics onto the narrow bed near his feet.

      His eyebrows drew together as he considered. “Will you tell me more about Mama Leonie?”

      Surprised, she agreed. “Where do you want me to start?”

      “Why did she live out here all alone?”

      Addison gathered her thoughts, drew hard on her memory to recall the tales. She didn’t want to scare Andy with voodoo stories, but she didn’t want to paint Leonie as anything other than the wonderful woman she’d been.

      “Nico’s mama didn’t live out here alone all the time. She raised Nico and his brothers and sisters closer to town.”

      Andy stared at the little room. “Because the swamp fort was too small?”

      “Partly.”

      “Why not just make it bigger?”

      “They already had a bigger house. Maybe I’ll take you by it one day.” Addison settled on the edge of the bed while Andy squished himself and his pillow into a comfortable position. Going through the familiar motions soothed her. “But she always had this place for herself.”

      “So it was her adventure place.”

      “In a manner of speaking, I suppose you’re right. Mama Leonie came out here to meet with people who needed things. She practiced a religion called voodoo.”

      “She turned people into zombies?” Andy’s eyes went wide as saucers but with more excitement than fear. Addison hoped it would always be that way, the opportunity for discovery outweighing potential distress.

      “Of course not. She was smart and kind and full of compassion for people. She was more like a doctor or therapist.”

      “But voodoo has zombies.”

      “Comic books have voodoo zombies.” Addison wondered if she needed to rein him in a bit. “In real life, voodoo isn’t nearly so creepy.” She walked her fingers over his foot and up his leg and tickled him behind the knee. He giggled and squirmed out of reach. “It’s complicated but interesting, and the people around her counted on Leonie like they would a doctor or therapist.” She stood and managed to kiss his forehead before he could protest. “Now get some sleep.”

      “Like a zombie?”

      “If it helps you grow,” she said with a laugh.

      “Where are you sleeping?”

      “I’ll put my sleeping bag in here with you. After I take care of the dishes.”

      “And your quiet time.”

      That habit was one definite success in her parenting career. As soon as Andy had been old enough to understand, she’d taught him to appreciate the quiet time she needed in the evenings. “That’s right. Now quit stalling and go to sleep.”

      “Did Mama Leonie ever do voodoo on you?” Andy asked before she could get out the door.

      “Maybe I’ll tell you that story tomorrow night.”

      “Ah, come on.”

      “Stalling. Love you, bear.”

      “Love you, too,” he muttered, clearly resigned to losing the battle for more of a story.

      She left the door cracked, the same way she did at home. It was a small compromise for him, but an added measure of security for her under these new circumstances.

      At home during quiet time she would’ve heated water for tea and pulled out some reading for work or pleasure. Here, hot tea meant lighting the wood-burning stove or the grill outside. On such a sultry evening, it didn’t feel like a good idea to fill the kitchen with more heat. And she hesitated to start a fire in the grill at this hour.

      Among the supplies Nico had delivered was a jug of homemade wine. She poured some into one of the mason jars that served as drink ware and carefully sipped. The sweet, light taste was a pleasant surprise and she bravely sipped a second time.

      She washed and dried the dishes, stacking them back with the others on the open corner shelves near the small table. As a youngster she’d often been entrusted with this chore and had used a chair instead of a stepstool to get the job done.

      The memories flooded through her, warm and comfortable, and for a fleeting moment she could almost hear the lilting voices filling the room with chatter and laughter. There had been good times here, each of them precious to her.

      The creative “architecture” in the bayous was the polar opposite of the sleek designer spaces she’d left behind, and Addison found her fondness for this little shack and rugged natural surroundings hadn’t changed. She’d learned early, from her own humble beginnings, that the value wasn’t in the furnishings of a place, but the people who filled it.

      Mama Leonie and her family by blood and choice had filled this place with love, encouragement and hope. Still filled it, Addison thought as a breeze ruffled the curtains at the window over the sink. For the first time since leaving the West Coast, she felt a sliver of doubt about running here. She didn’t want to ruin the healthy vibe or cause any trouble for Nico and his family. The locals still revered this place because of all the good Leonie had done for them, but Craig wouldn’t care about any of that. If he found her, he’d have no respect for the history and simply level whatever stood between him and her.

      Too bad he’d never understand the biggest gap was full of intangibles, not physical obstacles.

      “Mama Leonie, if you can hear me,” Addison whispered, “I don’t want to bring you trouble. There was nowhere else to go.” Truly. Nowhere else Craig didn’t know about. She looked down, twisting the engagement ring on her finger. What a fool she’d been to share so much of her life, of herself, with a man capable of such crimes. Why hadn’t she seen through him? “I’m sorry if trouble follows me,” she murmured into the silence. “Any help you can send would be appreciated.”

      She took off the ring and stuffed it in her pocket, scowling at the pale indentation left behind on her finger. The mark would fade and, with the bright days of summer, the pale line would soon fill in with healthy color. She’d taken a stand, done the right thing, and she had to trust the authorities to deal with Craig the right way. Soon.

      Though her specialty was corporate law, she understood Craig and his legal defense team would make the most of every loophole available. Knowing the system too well to trust it blindly, she’d taken that final precaution and had mailed extra information on to a neutral party.

      Addison paused at the cracked door, hearing Andy’s steady breathing. They were out of harm’s way. Safe. She repeated the word as she carried her glass of wine to the hammock on the back porch, screened in thanks to Nico’s hard work.

      Letting the hammock swing her gently, she reviewed every detail of her discovery, her report and her escape, looking for missteps, for anything Craig might twist to his advantage.

      He could drag her into it by association, but she’d never had anything to do

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