The Road to Bayou Bridge

But L9-10 wasn’t just any bird. She was a very expensive endangered species like the American alligator below her had once been.

Nature couldn’t win this round.

Renny would.

Even if it went against all she believed as a biologist. But how was she going to get L9-10 away from the gator?

A loud crack sent Renny ducking for cover.

She covered her ears and crouched down just as the gator started thrashing, its long tail whiplashing the ground as it moved toward the tree line.

“Good Lord,” Renny squealed as L9-10 took flight right over her and two hunters appeared to the left of her, heading for the gator that now moved toward the inlet hidden behind the trees. Three more gunshots followed, clouding the area with something invasive and foreign.

Renny unplugged her ears and looked frantically around for L9-10, but the crane had taken flight, which made her wonder why the silly bird hadn’t taken to the skies in the first place to avoid being al fresco dining for the now-doomed gator.

Two hunters leaped from an ATV and moved quickly toward the place where the gator had disappeared. It had not been a boat she’d heard earlier, but rather a camouflaged, glorified golf cart favored by hunters. One of the men caught sight of her and stopped. He did a double take.

Well, she was an odd sight.

This man, clad also in camo, lowered his gun and moved toward her, his strides long and purposeful as he tramped through the lowland.

Renny tugged her draped hat off and started digging for her credentials. She’d already received permission from Picou to access the land, and these hunters themselves could be poaching on Dufrene property, though she was fairly certain the man who’d slipped through the tree line heading for the bayou was Nate, the oldest Dufrene brother.

“What the hell?” the man coming toward her muttered, shaking his head.

She lifted her eyes and her mind clicked and whirred as a horrible realization bloomed in her brain.

She blinked once before trying to school her features into something other than shock.

The man she hoped to never lay eyes on again was standing right in front of her, looking like a model for The Great Outdoors Magazine.

Darby Dufrene had come home to Beau Soleil.

CHAPTER TWO

DARBY DOUBLE-CHECKED the safety on his rifle and feasted his eyes on the woman who had always revved his blood and jacked with his mind. Renny had not changed much—still as rare and earthy as the Louisiana wetlands she now protected.

Oh, he knew she was a biologist, because his mother dropped in little asides about her during their rare conversations. But he’d not anticipated how her very presence, hell, her very scent, would affect him. Renny smelled exotic, like rainforest sunrises and Indian marketplaces.

Good Lord. What had he put in his coffee that morning? Or maybe all that weird music his mother had on when he left was making him loopy.

“Renny,” he said, unable to keep the pleasure at seeing her out of his voice. He’d come to Beau Soleil to find her and here she was.

“What are you doing here?” The tension around her mouth spoke more than her words. Okay. Not very happy to see him.

“Home for a visit.”

She swallowed and glanced over his shoulder. “You have a permit to shoot gators?”

“I’m not shooting gators. Nate is. He still has five tags left.”

“But you have a gun in hand.” She pointed toward his dad’s old rifle.

“Only as a precaution. We were about to bait some hooks when Nate saw the gator.” He gestured to the cold weapon. If she was this confrontational over his brother legally shooting at a gator, how would she react when he told her he was her legal husband? Wouldn’t be good. Suddenly he was glad he held a gun. “I thought you were a biologist or something, not an agent.”

She looked hard at him and her brown eyes narrowed. They were pretty brown eyes—eyes that could flash in anger as easily as they could widen then glaze over in pleasure. He remembered those eyes. “I am a biologist, but I also work for Wildlife and Fisheries, and we take violations seriously.”

He smiled. “Good to know. I’ll make sure I don’t get out of line while I’m in town.”

She frowned. “You always get out of line.”

“Well, I’m pretty much an inside-the-lines kind of guy these days, Ren. Naval officer, attorney and all that.”

“Right.”

“You don’t sound convinced,” he said with a laugh. “Though I just got my separation papers. Guess I’m no longer in the navy, or rather no longer active duty.”

Damn, he was rambling. Telling her things no one would have interest in. Get control, Dufrene.

Renny licked her lips, drawing his attention away from grumpy brown eyes to a part of her he’d always lavished attention upon. She was nervous, not flirting at all, but her tongue sliding between those plump lips had the same effect. He ripped his gaze away.

“Well, congratulations. Hope you enjoy your visit,” she said, but he was almost certain she’d meant, Hope you die a painful death.

Her whole attitude puzzled him. She was the one who hadn’t wanted him anymore—did she have to be so damn cold about it? But what did he care? Two weeks tops before he headed to Seattle, but there was work to do before he left, and part of that job stood right in front of him.

Renny twisted to glance behind her, and a piece of caramel hair tumbled against the white sheeting she’d draped herself in. When he’d first seen her, he’d had a flashback to those government guys in E.T. “Well, I’ve got a bird to track down.”

“Yeah, I saw that. What was it? It was huge.”

“Whooping crane. She’s out of her natural habitat, or what we think to be her natural habitat. I think a storm a few weeks back blew her north, so that’s why I’m here. I stopped by the house and cleared it with your mother before coming out.” She paused a moment and then cleared her throat. “She didn’t tell me you were home.”

No, his mother wouldn’t, would she? Picou had suggested this very area for setting a few baits for the gators. Not coincidental at all. “Who knows? She’s been distracted lately with my sister and all.”

“Yeah, I heard about Della. Amazing that y’all found her,” Renny said, pushing her hair back from her face. The Louisiana heat had her flushed and tendrils of hair stuck to the curve of her cheek—something that made her undeniably attractive in a mussed-up, natural way. In a way that made him want to peel that white-drape crap off her and find out how her curves had filled out over the past eleven years.

“Yeah, that’s the main reason I’m home,” he said, wondering why he was giving her all the details about his twin sister, his job, what he was doing on his own family’s property. Seemed natural to reveal his thoughts to Renny—just like in the past. He resisted the urge to scratch his neck. Mosquitos. Forgot how viscous they could be in South Louisiana.

“I’ve got to—”

“I need to talk—”

They both spoke at once before snapping their mouths closed. Pink bloomed on Renny’s cheeks as she shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, sorry.”

“No, I want to ask if maybe we can get together and talk? We have some things we need to work out, and I don’t think this is the best place.” He slapped another mosquito.

She shook her head. “Look, the past is the past. We don’t have anything more to say to each other. We were young and stupid and—”

“Hey,” Nate called from behind him. “Where’d you go? That was a big son of a gun, and I needed you to man the pole. Too late now. That gator sunk in the bayou like a stone.”