Page 37 of The Cajun Doctor

“I brought you a housewarming gift,” she said, in a forced tone of politeness.

He grinned, sensing how hard it was for her to be nice to him.

“This is Max. A kitty just for you.”

He stopped grinning.

Out shot a golden-haired Maine Coon cat with a lopsided red bow tied around its neck. The cat immediately went over to Daniel and hissed up at him.

“That’s not a kitty. It’s a pony. How much do you feed this animal? Do they have Weight Watchers for cats?”

“Max likes to snack on mice.”

“Eeew! I hate cats.”

“I think Max likes you.” The cat was clawing at his pant leg with one paw. “Oh, isn’t that cute? Max wants a hug.”

Carefully, he lifted the animal as if it might attack at any minute. Which it might. “I hate cats,” he repeated.

Max licked his face, and he cringed, then hid a smile. Samantha could tell that he didn’t hate cats as much as he claimed. Bored with licking, Max jumped down and rushed over to sniff at the snake barrel.

“Max could probably catch snakes, too. In addition to mice.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful.”

Just then Tante Lulu noticed them from over at the buffet table set out on the ground floor verandah. “Yoo hoo! Over here.”

Chapter Eight

Matchmaker, folk healer, and tour guide, too . . .

She and Daniel glanced at each other, remembered the dream, and stomped toward the old lady for a confrontation.

“Did you put a spell on us?” Samantha demanded to know.

“Huh?”

“I thought you didn’t believe in that voodoo junk,” Daniel added.

“Huh?”

“Don’t play the innocent with me, you meddling dingbat. I know what you’re capable of.” Daniel looked as if he’d like to throttle Tante Lulu.

The old lady narrowed her eyes at him. “I doan like yer tone, boy. If yer not careful, I’m gonna toss ya in one of Stinky’s snake barrels.” Then she turned to Samantha with a smile. “Did I tell ya Daniel ain’t gay?”

Daniel stiffened.

Samantha had to laugh. The old lady sure knew which buttons to push on Daniel. She was always telling people that he wasn’t gay. She wasn’t sure if it was because he rarely dated, or because of his appearance, which didn’t look gay to her, or something else.

But Daniel was learning not to rise to her jibes every time. He just walked away.

“Looks like they’re making a lot of progress outside,” Samantha remarked then. The wide area between the alleé, or alley, of live oaks . . . now the horseshoe-shaped driveway, its open side facing the bayou . . . had been denuded and new grass sown. The branches with hanging moss on the two-hundred-year-old trees on either side of the road had grown together into a canopy of sorts. Right now a sprinkler system was in operation to get the lawn going, although it rained so often in this semitropical climate that it probably wasn’t necessary. Workers were tackling the garden on one side of the house and putting paving stones around the garconniére on the other side.

Tante Lulu nodded. “Helps when ya got family ta pitch in.”

“And money to pay an army of workers.” Samantha had heard the two brothers were fairly well off, but she knew from friends’ experiences with old house renovations that money wells could soon become money pits.

“That, too.” Tante Lulu was in a gardening outfit today. Straw hat, coveralls, and sneakers. Her hair appeared to be purple, or maybe it was a wig. Little dangly earrings in the shape of shovels and rakes hung from her ears. Gardener chic? “C’mon. I’ll show ya ’round, ’specially the area where I think they could house some animals, if we kin convince Aaron and Daniel.”