Mimosa Grove Read Online Free PDF Page A

to get to Mimosa Grove before dark.”
    The shock on Yvette Charbonneau’s face was obvious. She stood abruptly, clutching her little girl against her breast.
    “You goin’ to Mimosa Grove?”
    Laurel nodded.
    “Miz Marcella was your grandmama?”
    Suddenly Laurel realized that the friendliness she had seen on the people’s faces was gone. She took a step back, bracing herself for judgment.
    “Yes.”
    An old woman who’d been standing nearby suddenly moved out of the shade toward the curb.
    “You be Phoebe’s girl?”
    Laurel nodded, and wondered if she was going to have to defend the honor of her family name down here, as well.
    “Praise be,” the old woman said, and then made the sign of the cross.
    The others who’d been staring at Laurel began to smile, echoing similar murmurs of encouragement and welcome as Laurel stared at them in disbelief.
    “Miz Marcella was a good woman,” the old woman added. “We gonna miss her, yeah.” Then she eyed Laurel up and down, hesitating only briefly before asking. “You got the sight…like Miz Marcella?”
    Between the shock of their obvious welcome and the thickness of the old woman’s Cajun accent, Laurel wasn’t certain what she was hearing. But if she wasn’t mistaken, not only had these people acknowledged Marcella’s psychic abilities but had revered her for them.
    “Uh…um, I…”
    The old woman saw the fear on Laurel’s face and suddenly understood.
    “It be a great thing…dat gift of sight,” she said softly. “Miz Marcella and me…we friends, yeah, from way back. Been missin’ her somethin’ fierce. But you here now…so a piece of her still wit’ us after all.” Then her expression shifted to one of concern as she added, “You gonna stay, yeah?”
    The muscles in Laurel’s throat tightened as she nodded.
    The old woman smiled. “Ain’t no seer, me…but I heal some. If you get da malaise, you come see old Tula. I fix you up good, yeah?”
    Laurel took a deep breath. “Yes. I’ll remember that.”
    Then she glanced nervously around at the others who were still present. No one seemed wary or offended. She gave them a tentative smile, which they quickly returned.
    Then Tula spoke again. “Marie LeFleur…she know you comin’?”
    Laurel frowned. The name was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t remember why.
    “Who’s Marie LeFleur?”
    The old woman smiled. “You find out when you get to Mimosa Grove. When you see her, you tell her, Tula, she say hello.”
    “Yes, all right,” Laurel said, and with a quick wave toward Melanie and Yvette Charbonneau, started to leave. But before she could get off the curb, a police car pulled up beside her car and parked. When a stocky, middle-aged man got out with a glare on his face, she stifled a groan.
    “Somebody got trouble?” he asked, eyeing Laurel warily before looking at the others gathered on the sidewalk. Then he saw the little girl’s injuries and frowned. “What happened here?”
    Melanie pointed at Laurel. “She gave me a new icy,” she said.
    “Well, that’s right nice of her,” he said, then eyed the blood all over her clothes, as well as the cuts and scrapes. “How come you bleedin’ there, darlin’? You didn’t run into the street, now, did you?”
    Laurel felt an angry flush spreading across her cheeks as she glared at the officer.
    “I did not hit that child with my car and then try to buy her off with a Popsicle, if that’s what you’re trying to imply,” she snapped. “The child fell. I saw it happen and stopped to help. Now, if you all will excuse me, I want to reach Mimosa Grove before dark.”
    The policeman’s expression shifted instantly. Before he could ask, Laurel stomped toward her car and got inside.
    Frowning, Yvette gathered her child up in her arms. “Now, Harper, you know what you just went and done? You insulted Miz Marcella’s granddaughter, that’s what.”
    She shook her head at him in disgust, then hurried back inside the grocery,