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clouds. She knew there was no easy way it could be
settled, no compromise available. No matter the outcome, there was
sure to be bitter feelings. If it was proven the plant would harm
the people living nearby, the plant could be forced to close. That
would please some, but those losing jobs would not forgive
neighbors even relatives who helped make it happen. Paul's report
being prepared on Big River was going to be critical to the
outcome.At the thought of the handsome engineer, his face seemed to
float in the plate glass window for a split second. She blinked
rapidly. Her thoughts were of his hands touching her shoulders then
cupping her face as he lowered his lips to hers. No matter how she
tried, she couldn't think of him without having such fantasies.
Never had she reacted so strongly to a man. True, she had found
others attractive, even been infatuated, but this silly adolescent
obsession was getting out of hand. She should be spending time
worrying about her father and how she could help keep him out of
trouble.Across the street and still several blocks away, Savannah
noticed a vaguely familiar figure walking toward the shop. A thick
black braid hung down the woman's back. She wore a simple cotton
dress that served to emphasize her figure and reveal bare shapely
legs. She crossed the street and headed straight toward Savannah.
Recognition dawned slowly as the woman reached to open the
door.
    "Hello, Savannah. Heard you were home.
Welcome back." LaShaun leaned across the counter and brushed her
cheek against Savannah's. Her slightly almond shaped, dark brown
gaze swept the shop. "I only been in here once before and that was,
goodness, over six years ago. Nice stuff. So, what's up with
you?"
    LaShaun Rousselle had changed from an awkward
brooding little girl into a sultry young woman. She regarded
Savannah with a look of cool, appraisal letting her know nothing
had changed. LaShaun wore a look of disdain. It was clear she would
make sure Savannah knew of her enmity. The animosity LaShaun's
mother had felt for Therese and Antoine seemed a caustic legacy
left to be carried on by her daughter.
    "Not much." Savannah's smile was strained.
LaShaun seemed crafty to Savannah and she reminded herself to watch
her back.
    "You giving up your job in Shreveport to run
your daddy's shop? Seems strange, you had such a big time law
career, so they say. Making a lot of money; so they say." She
paused in her examination of a small female figure carved from a
piece of oak.
    "Sometimes that type of success is just not
enough. Besides, with my father getting on in age, he could use
some help around here with his business interests."
    "I guess. ‘Course Mr. Antoine is in good
shape from what I can see. What I mean is you don't have to worry
about him getting senile anytime soon." LaShaun faced her briefly,
and then turned quickly to examine a shelf of spices.
    "That's not what I meant at all. He could
just use help with this plant dispute getting so, intense."
Savannah was immediately sorry she had mentioned it.
    "Oh yes. Claude Trosclair wants to make even
more money than he has already. And your daddy, bless him, is
getting in his way. Always was a bold man, your daddy. Least my
mama always said so." LaShaun faced her, a sly smile spread across
her face.
    Savannah clenched her teeth to keep from
rising to the bait and instead forced a smile. "He believes in
what's right. And he won't let people walk over him, or make a fool
of him either."
    "Oh he's good at getting out of things, for
sure. Course, Claude Trosclair is good at getting what he wants.
Hope he knows what he's doing crossing him." She walked over and
leaned against the counter.
    "He does." Savannah did not want to talk
about her father anymore, especially not with LaShaun.
    "Well, guess I'd better get to work. I'm
working at the museum."
    "I didn’t know we had one here."
    "It's kinda small. But we've got a real
interesting set of exhibits on local history, artifacts