Carnal Innocence

piece of my mind.”
    “Let it go, Jose. It’s nothing to worry about. He’ll feel better once we get this holiday started.”
    “All right, but I’m going to keep an eye on him.” She patted the keys in her pocket as she started into the house. “Next time you ask, you hear?” She passed Caroline in the doorway. “You watch out for that one, Caro. He’s a scoundrel.”
    “I already know.” Caroline stepped out on the porch, then, to please herself, turned a showy circle. The skirt of her pale blue sundress swirled out, then settled softly around her legs.
    Tucker stayed on the step below and took her hands. The dress had flirty laces at the bodice and a back cut to the waist. “You sure do look a picture.”
    “I heard I was going on a picnic after the parade.”
    “That’s a fact.” He kissed the palm of her hand, then held it against his cheek a moment. They said you didn’t know what you had until you’d lost it. Tucker thought he’d discovered something that was equally true. You didn’t know what had been missing from your life until you found it. “Caroline?”
    She turned her hands to link her fingers with his. “What is it?”
    “I’ve got a lot of things to say to you.” He moved up the steps until their mouths were level and the kiss could be sweet. “I sure as hell hope you’re ready to hear them when I do. Right now I’ve got some business to see to. You mind riding to the parade with Della? I’ll meet you there.”
    “I could wait.”
    He shook his head and kissed her again. “I’d rather you went on.”
    “All right, then. I’ll pile in with Della and Cy and Cousin Lulu—who’s going to be the hit of the day. She’s wearing trousers with the Confederate flag on one leg and the American flag on the other. The flag of the Revolution, I should say.”
    “You can always count on Cousin Lulu.”
    “Tucker.” Caroline cupped his face in her hands. “If you have trouble, I wish you’d share it with me.”
    “I will soon enough. You look just right here, Caroline. Standing on the porch with your blue dress, the door open behind you and bees buzzing in the flowers. You look just right.” He wrapped his arms around her, held her there a moment while he wished the world would stay like this, pretty and peaceful and as gracious as a lovely woman dressed in blue.
    “You be ready for those fireworks tonight,” he told her. “And for what I want to say to you after.” His arms tightened. “Caroline, I want—”
    “God sakes,” Lulu muttered from the doorway. “Tucker, are you going to stand around all day smooching with that Yankee? We got to get on or we won’t get a decent spot to watch the parade.”
    “There’s time yet.” But Tucker released Caroline. “You keep an eye on this Yankee till I get there,” he began, then his face split with a grin. “I declare, Cousin Lulu, you look good enough to run up the flagpole. Where’d you get those pants?”
    “Had ’em made special.” She spread her scrawny, flag-bedecked legs. “Got me a jacket to match, but it’s too cursed hot to wear it.” She stuck an eagle feather into her hair, where it drooped over one ear. “I’m ready to go.”
    “Then you’d better get.” He gave Caroline a quick kiss before heading inside. “I’ll send the others out. Cousin Lulu, you make sure Caroline doesn’t go wandering off with some smooth talker.”
    Lulu snorted. “She’s not about to go far.”
    Caroline smiled. “No, I’m not.”

c·h·a·p·t·e·r 28
    “J ust how many of these lunatics you figure’ll drop from heat stroke before two o’clock?” Cousin Lulu posed the question from the comfort of her personalized director’s chair. A red, white, and blue umbrella was hooked to the back and tilted to a jaunty angle, while a thermos of mint juleps snuggled between her feet.
    “We never have more than five or six faint on us,” Della said placidly from the web chair beside her. She didn’t think she could outdo Lulu’s pants, but she’d stuck a miniature American flag in her bushy hair in an attempt. “Most of them are young.”
    As a marching band strutted by blaring Sousa, Lulu played along on a plastic zither. She enjoyed the wall of sound, the glint of brass in bright sun, but she couldn’t help but think that a couple of swooning piccolo players would add some zip.
    “That tuba blower there, the husky one with the pimples? He looks a bit glassy-eyed to me. Ten bucks says he drops in the