Beverly Barton: Grace Under Fire

Jaron could only guess what went on between his sister and her husband behind closed doors. But he suspected it was often brutal. More than once Charmaine had tried to explain away the bruises on her beautiful body.

God, he had to get her away from Booth. And soon. Before Booth found out about Ronnie. If that happened… they'd all die.

With no one other than herself residing at Belle Foret, Grace had cut the household staff down to only a housekeeper and a butler/chauffeur, both having been in her father's employ since before Grace's birth thirty years ago. Laverna and Nolan Rowley were in their late sixties, a devoted couple, who had always seemed like family. Laverna received assistance from daily maids who worked for a local agency, so now her job mainly consisted of preparing meals. Since the tragedy four years ago, Laverna and Nolan had spoiled Grace shamelessly, more so than ever.

While Laverna placed the silver service on the tea cart in the front parlor, Nolan headed out into the foyer on his way to answer the doorbell's insistent ring.

"Will there be anything else, Miss Grace?" Laverna used her apron to swipe nonexistent dust from the edge of the tea table.

"No, that's all. Thank you." When Laverna reached the door, Grace called to her. "Please, if anyone telephones while my guests are here, take a message. I don't want to be disturbed."

"Yes, ma'am."

The minute Nolan opened the front door, Grace heard the squabble and walked quickly toward the foyer. Dear Lord, what horrendous timing. Joy and Hudson had arrived on her doorstep simultaneously. The two had taken an instant dislike to each other the moment they met in Grace's hospital room nearly four years ago. Joy called Hudson an insufferable dork and he referred to her as the brainless twit. Of all nights, why tonight? Grace asked herself. She didn't need this. Not when she had to make an important decision and wanted the advice of her closest confidantes. Maybe Joy wasn't the most intellectual person Grace knew, but her bubbly little cousin had a good heart. She was someone Grace had been able to count on, since their childhoods, through the good times and bad.

"All I asked was why, if you had to take a cab over here instead of driving yourself, didn't you remember to bring some cash with you?" Not giving Nolan a glance, Hudson stormed into the foyer, Joy walking quickly to keep up with him, her cheeks splotched with color and her eyes shooting fiery darts. "And why on God's green earth did you tip the driver twenty dollars? With my money! That's obscene. It's ridiculous!" Hudson threw up his hands in disgust. "What am I saying? Not only are your actions ridiculous, but you're ridiculous. Just look at yourself. No self-respecting woman wears those outdated clothes like you've got on. You look like my great-aunt Mozette did when she gave one of her garden parties. "

Joy grabbed Hudson 's arm, then paused in the foyer. She blessed Nolan with her sweetest Southern belle smile. "Evening, Nolan. How are you this evening?"

"Just fine, Miss Joy. And you?" The butler didn't return her smile, but his watery blue eyes twinkled.

Joy had always had a way of making people like her. Everyone except Hudson. Grace couldn't figure it out. What possible reason could Hudson have to dislike Joy? Grace supposed it was because Joy disapproved of him so vehemently.

Hudson tried to disengage himself from Joy's tenacious hold, but the harder he tried to escape, the tighter she held onto his arm.

"Damn it, woman, will you let go of me?" Hudson demanded in a harsh yet quiet tone.

"I didn't drive myself over here tonight because my car's in the shop. My precious Jag is sick. And I don't have a chauffeur the way Grace does." Joy gave Hudson a pathetic wide-eyed look, like a soulful puppy dog, her long, thick lashes fluttering ever so slightly. "And my goodness, Huddie, you act as if I won't reimburse you for the money I borrowed to pay the driver."

"Good evening." Grace moved into the foyer to meet her cousin and business associate. "What seems to be the problem?"

"No problem." Hudson slapped at Joy's arm, trying to free himself from her clinging grip.

When he finally gave up and forced a smile as his gaze connected with Grace's, Joy whipped her arm away from his and rushed toward Grace.

"Give Huddie some money, will you?" Joy requested. "A fifty will be enough. I had to borrow a little from him to take care of the cabdriver, and he's making a scene about it."

"Will you please stop calling me Huddie." Hudson 's cheeks flamed bright pink.

"But isn't that the pet name your brothers and sisters gave you when you were a child?" Joy asked guilelessly. "I thought that's what Grace told me."

"I haven't been a child in years." Hudson grimaced, his expression just a fraction short of malevolent.

"Sometimes I find it difficult to believe you were ever a child." Joy breezed past Grace and floated into the front parlor. Joy seldom simply walked. She breezed into, floated along, sauntered, meandered and strolled; but never just walked. Then without glancing his way, Joy said, "And for your information, Hudson-" she emphasized his name "-you're the only man of my acquaintance who disapproves of the ladylike way I dress."

"I'd appreciate it if you two would set aside whatever personal differences make both of you act like competitive children whenever you're around each other," Grace said. "At least for this evening."

"I apologize." Hudson squared his shoulders and stood ramrod straight, as if Grace was his commanding general preparing to inspect the troops.

"Oh, Gracie, sweetie. It's all my fault." Joy hugged Grace, then planted an affectionate kiss on her cheek. "I'm afraid Huddie-er… Hudson brings out the worst in me. I promise I'll behave myself… for tonight."

"I must admit that I'm curious as to why you called this meeting," Hudson said.

Before Grace could respond, Nolan opened the door for Elsa Leone, Grace's trusted and valued assistant. During the past three years, she had come to think of Elsa as a good friend. The young woman was, as Grace's daddy would have said, smart as a whip. Efficient to the nth degree, Elsa had proven herself time and again. Although the two had shared personal moments, neither had taken the opportunity to pour out their hearts to each other. Grace knew the basic facts about Elsa's life, but had respected the woman's privacy as Elsa respected Grace's. Grace did know some of Elsa's history. She was the eldest child of four. Her father had died years ago, leaving Elsa with a mother who drank too much and worked too little. The sister just younger than Elsa was married and lived in Lake Charles. The youngest sibling was mentally handicapped and attended a private school that cost Elsa a fortune, despite the scholarship the little girl received. The only brother was a freshman at St. Camille Junior College. Troy had gotten into some trouble in high school-drinking and drugs-but Elsa believed he'd finally gotten his act together.

"I hope I'm not late." Elsa said.

Brown-eyed, sable-haired, with a slender build and of medium height, Elsa wasn't the type who stood out in a crowd. But she was quite pretty, if one bothered to take a second look.

"Right on time," Grace replied. "Please, come join us in the parlor. Once Uncle Willis arrives-"

As if on cue the doorbell rang. When Nolan opened the door, a stocky, ruddy-faced man entered, a jolly expression on his round face, his pudgy cheeks flushed from the warmth of the humid Louisiana evening. Uncle Willis was Willis Sullivan, her father's old friend and attorney. Grace had known him all her life. He wasn't really family, unless you counted the fact that his sister had married one of her daddy's first cousins once removed.