“My God. What the hell did you do when everything went to hell and Renard died?” Drake couldn’t keep the accusation out of his voice. He wanted to jump across the room and smash the man. Renard’s wife and son had made it out, but his brothers and their wives hadn’t. “He did do something,” Pauline said. She handed Amos his plate and set his drink on the coffee table. “He ended up with nearly every bone in his body broken and he was in a coma for three months.”

Drake let out his breath. The mire in the swamp just seemed to deepen. The more explanation, the more the questions. “And Tregre wasn’t arrested?”

“At the time, his brother was chief of police.” Amos sighed. “You’re drudgin’ up a lot of shit, Donovan. It was many years ago. I was trespassin’ on their property. They said I attacked him. There was an investigation and Buford was cleared of all charges. There was even an implication that I might have killed Renard. In the end, they didn’ go that far, but I had no other recourse but to back off. Hell, I didn’ remember much for months after. I had physical therapy and my leopard took a long while to emerge again. I told the lair Tregre’s land was off-limits and left it at that.”

Saria slipped into the chair next to Drake, handing him a plate of food. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in a long while. His mind was foggy, trying to take in everything Amos had told him, and still read between the lines. There was no doubt Buford’s sons might be as cruel and depraved as their father. Buford Tregre was certainly capable of being a serial killer. Hating was what he seemed to do best. And Joshua’s uncles had sons of their own, both old enough to be suspects as well. He shook his head. It was all complicated and he felt like shit.

Saria smelled like heaven, that scent he’d come to know as exclusively Saria. She’d obviously showered, which explained why Pauline had managed to get Amos his food first. He didn’t mind not getting his food immediately, Saria had to be exhausted. She’d been streaked with dirt and probably blood and sweat from him. He’d been thinking about the mess he’d gotten himself into, allowing her to take care of him instead of the other way around.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She sent him a dazzling smile. “I wasn’t the one who got all chewed up in a fight. I’m fine. And Miss Pauline outdid herself. The food’s fantastic.”

The tension coiled so tight in his gut unraveled. There was something so amazing in the way she enjoyed her food. Maybe it was just the entire package—the way she enjoyed her life. When she ate, she ate, enjoying every single morsel. If she had to protect herself, she did so with the same intensity she did everything else. She made him feel alive—and happy.

He let himself grin back at her like a foolish idiot. “She is a good cook,” he admitted and watched with admiration as she tucked into the food on her plate with gusto.

She frowned at him. “Eat. What are you doin’?”

“I like watching you eat.”

Amos laughed. “You’re a goner, Donovan. When a hungry man spends more time lookin’ at his woman than eatin’ , he’s in trouble.”

Pauline joined in his laughter. “Eat, Drake. When Amos told me what happened, I knew you’d need to eat something to rebuild your strength. You’ll have all the time in the world to look at Saria.”

Beside him, Saria stirred a little uncomfortably. He knew she wasn’t yet convinced they’d be spending their lives together. She was willing to entertain the idea, but she’d been so dead set against marriage and she obviously had her life plans that didn’t include a permanent man—and he was damned permanent.

“Remy get out his shotgun yet?” Amos asked.

“Not yet, but I wish he would,” Drake said.

Saria choked. He helpfully patted her back. “Something wrong, Saria?”

She glared at him and took a sip of water. “You won’ be feelin’ so full of yourself if Remy does show up with a shotgun. He’ll be meanin’ business.”

“I’ll look forward to it. It may be the only way I can make an honorable woman out of you.” He looked up at Pauline. “She’s dragging her feet.”

“You got second thoughts, Saria?” Pauline asked.

Saria chewed thoughtfully, taking her time answering. She didn’t think to lie, or even hedge. “I want to be with him, it’s just the whole permanent thing, you know? I don’ know if I can actually live with someone all the time. I’m used to doin’ my own thing.”

“But you want to be with him,” Pauline asked. “No one’s forcin’ you, or coercin’ you in any way?” She didn’t look at Drake, but he had the uncomfortable feeling that if Saria answered in the affirmative, she’d pull out a gun and shoot him on the spot. He was coming to believe Louisiana women were a little on the dangerous side.

Saria made a little moue with her lips and he leaned down to brush a kiss there. He couldn’t have stopped himself even if Pauline had a gun pointed straight at his heart. He kissed her again when her eyes went wide.

“You shouldn’t tempt me,” he pointed out.

“Is that called coercion?” Saria asked, her fingers touching her lips as if holding his kiss to her.

Pauline sighed. “Just marry him and put you both out of your misery,” she counseled.

Saria laughed. “I can see I’m in the minority here.”