Page 51 of Beau
“As you should,” she whispered.
He stared down into her eyes. “You have no reason to believe me, but I want you to know that if you choose to have someone else protect you, I’ll understand. And though each one of my teammates is qualified to keep you safe, I would continue to shadow you until the bastard who nearly killed you last night is captured and put behind bars.” He squeezed her hands gently, then let them go. “Now, let me cook that gumbo. You might feel better with a full belly.”
“Food won’t fix everything,” she warned.
“Obviously, you haven’t had my gumbo.” Beau gave her a playful wink and finished unloading the bags.
Aurelie dug through the cabinets and found a cutting board, stock pot, saucepan, ladles and knives.
Beau washed out the sink and filled it with warm water and some dish soap he found in the cabinet below the sink. He made quick work of washing everything thoroughly before placing the stockpot and the saucepan on the stove.
After cleaning the chicken, he placed it in the stockpot, filled it with water and fired up the burner. Next, he added a heavy dose of Cajun seasoning and pepper.
Aurelie came behind him and added more Cajun seasoning.
He chuckled. “So, you like it spicy?”
She nodded.
He patted his chest. “A woman after my own heart.”
While the chicken cooked, he worked alongside Aurelie, chopping celery, onions and carrots and added them to the stockpot with the chicken.
Beau liked working alongside the senator’s daughter in a comfortable silence. At least on his part. For all he knew, she could have been quietly dreaming up ways to make him suffer for lying to her. He chose to think otherwise and enjoyed the simple tasks of preparing food together. He could get used to bumping into her in the kitchen.
While in the Army, he’d given up on the idea of marriage, settling down roots and raising a family.
Now that he was back in Bayou Mambaloa, he remembered how good it felt to have a home and family.
In a saucepan, he dropped a stick of butter, let it melt and then added flour, stirring constantly until it formed a thick brown roux.
When the chicken was practically falling off the bone, Beau fished it out of the stockpot, deboned and pulled it apart. He added the meat back to the stockpot along with the shrimp and sausage. He stirred in the roux and let it simmer while he cleaned the saucepan, filled it with water and set it on the stove to boil for the rice.
Aurelie stood over the stockpot, inhaling the flavorful steam rising from the gumbo. “It smells amazing.”
“Tastes even better,” Beau said. “It’ll be another twenty minutes before the rice is done.”
“I’m going to get a shower and put on some of my own clothes,” Aurelie said. “Unless you need help with anything else.”
Beau shook his head. “I’ve got it under control. It’ll be ready when you are.”
After Aurelie left the kitchen, Beau explored all the cabinets, making note of what needed to be cleaned, tossed and donated. If they weren’t on the road to Baton Rouge the next day, they could start in the kitchen, sorting through Pearson’s belongings.
It seemed sad to be sorting through a stranger’s things, making decisions about whether to toss, donate or save items. Beau hoped that his family had loved him while he was alive and visited him often. Most of the items in the kitchen were old, yellowed or chipped. The pots and pans had loose or missing handles.
He wandered into the tiny dining room, which had an old mahogany dining table and matching chairs that needed the seats recovered. The wood had stood the test of time. The chairs could be recovered, and the set would work for someone for another forty or fifty years.
In a cabinet against the wall, he found a nice set of porcelain dishes with a delicate rose pattern. He took two bowls from the set, found a couple of wine glasses and two settings of silverware, and carried them to the kitchen, where he washed and dried them.
With a rag he found in one of the kitchen drawers, he washed the dining table and placed the silverware and wine glasses on one end.
Back in the kitchen, he poured rice into boiling water and then searched through all the drawers until he located a corkscrew. He pulled the cork on the wine bottle and set it on the table along with a small plate of crackers and cheese and two candles he’d found in a drawer of the china cabinet.
By the time Aurelie returned to the kitchen, the rice was done, the table was set and wine had been poured.
“I thought we’d serve up the gumbo at the stove and carry it into the dining room,” he said.
Aurelie scooped rice into her bowl and used the ladle to pour the gumbo on top.