Page 2 of Beau

His mother had offered to give each of her children ten acres out of the one hundred and twenty acres that had been in their family for over two hundred years. So far, only two of her ten children had taken her up on that offer.

As much as Beau loved his mother, he couldn’t see living that close. As it was, being in the same parish was almost too close. He was always running into those of his siblings who hadn’t left Bayou Mambaloa to find employment in the bigger cities, like New Orleans or Baton Rouge.

No. He wanted to purchase his own property, preferably on the other side of the parish, with a little distance between them to discourage his mother from “dropping in” whenever she felt like it.

Oh, he loved his mother, but he also loved his privacy. As a widow with no husband to occupy her time, Josephine Boyette took her mothering to the extreme, trying to solve every problem for every one of her children instead of letting them figure it out on their own.

He’d limited his time with her since he’d been back, afraid she’d dig into his problems and find out he wasn’t as okay as he’d led her to believe.

He’d been working through his issues with the therapist the VA hospital had assigned since he’d returned from his last mission with the Army Rangers.

As the sole survivor of a helicopter crash, he’d been so messed up he hadn’t wanted to get out of bed for a month. That and the broken leg hadn’t helped.

But that was in the past. He’d been through hundreds of hours of physical and mental therapy and was more than ready to get on with his life.

His teammates who’d perished in the crash couldn’t get on with their lives, and they’d never know the wonderful trouble of being psychoanalyzed by their mothers.

How many times had he been told he was the lucky one?

And why didn’t he feel lucky?

A weight threatened to settle on his chest, pushing out the air he’d been breathing.

Now was not the time to backslide into the black funk he’d clawed his way out of over six months ago.

Beau pushed open the door of his truck and dropped to the ground. He squared his shoulders and marched toward the entrance, careful not to limp on the leg that would never be the same.

He was determined to do his best to help the senator, make a good impression for the Bayou Brotherhood Protectors and keep Miss Anderson safe.

A man in a black suit stood guard at the door, checking IDs and tickets of each guest as they arrived.

Out of his element at such a formal function, Beau adjusted his Robin Hood hat. When the guard asked for his ID, he presented his military ID, his ten-thousand-dollar ticket and raised his mask briefly.

Beau entered the 18th-century mansion and was immediately struck by the opulent marble flooring and the double sweeping staircases on each side of the foyer, rising to the second level. A man dressed in a livery suit held out his hands. “May I take your…jacket…or quiver of arrows?”

“No, thank you,” Beau said. “But perhaps you can tell me where I can find Senator Anderson.”

“The senator is in the ballroom receiving line,” the servant said and waved an arm toward the sound of music coming from a wide-open doorway.

Beau crossed the marble floor and entered a large ballroom crowded with people in a variety of costumes.

A man wearing an Abraham Lincoln outfit stood just inside the doorway, greeting guests as they entered.

Abraham Lincoln held out his hand. “Welcome to the Harlequins and Heartthrobs Masquerade Ball and reelection campaign fundraiser. Thank you for your support.”

Beau gripped the man’s hand. “I assume you’re Senator Anderson,” he said.

The man dressed as Abraham Lincoln smiled. “Your assumption is correct. And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

Beau dipped his head. “I’m Beau Boyette, an agent of the Brotherhood Protectors. I was sent to help you with your situation.”

The senator’s smile faded, and his grip tightened on Beau’s hand. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

Beau’s glance swept the ballroom. “Is the object of your concern here tonight?”

The man with the Abraham Lincoln top hat and black jacket gave a brief nod. “She is.”

Beau looked around the ballroom again. “Will you introduce me to her to get the ball rolling?”

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