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Authors: Lenora Worth

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BOOK: Gift of Wonder
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Chapter Fourteen

T
wo hours later, Jay and Lorene had gone to bed and Alice and Jonah were finishing up the dishes.

“You didn't have to help,” Alice said, glad that he was going to stay awhile so they could go over the last-minute details of the article. She loved being with Jonah, but she was on edge about what she'd found out about his past. How could she tell him?

During the meal, she hid her worries with small talk about the house Lorene would help decorate. It had been easy to put aside the dark thoughts clouding her judgment and bask in the glow of Lorene's newfound excitement and Jonah's growing enthusiasm. But now that they were alone, she didn't know how to tell him the truth. And she wasn't so sure what the truth was anymore. Or if telling him was the right thing to do.

“I don't mind helping,” he said as he handed her the dish towel. “But…you don't seem so sure. I thought we had some things to discuss, unless you're too tired.”

“No, I'm not tired.” She shrugged. “Well, I mean, I
am tired but I always get this way right before a deadline. Nothing new there.”

“Are you worried about Lorene? I won't let her overdo things with being my consultant. And Jay will make sure of that, too. Just a couple of hours a day, and the doctor backed that up.”

“No, I'm happy for Lorene. This is exactly what she needs to keep her distracted. And she won't put her baby in jeopardy. I'm okay with that.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you worried about this article, then? I can handle any and all observations, you know. I'm tough.”

“I believe you are,” she replied, praying that was so. “But the article is fair and accurate—not too much to fret about there. It should bring you a lot of possible homeowners. Let's go up to my place and…we'll get this done, once and for all.”

He followed her through the front door and up the wide outside staircase, then reached for her hand when they got to the upstairs porch. “It must be me, then. Are you tired of me already?”

She didn't know how to answer that. Normally, she would have blurted out the truth—no, she wasn't tired of him. But tonight, she was all twisted inside, in turmoil about what to tell him, how to tell him, about what she'd found out. “I said I'm tired, but that doesn't mean I'm tired of
you.
I think we're making progress, you and me.”

Or at least, they had been until she'd managed to dig up too much of his past.
Give me courage, Lord,
she silently prayed. Jonah had asked her not to pry, but it was too late to go back now.

“I'll say we're making progress. We've definitely rounded a curve.” He touched a finger to her loose curls. “Your hair is cute that way.”

She drew back but smiled up at him. “Lorene calls this my after-work hairdo.”

“Well, you do automatically reach for a clip the minute you get home.”

She turned, one hand on the door to her apartment. “And how would you know that, Jonah Sheridan?”

He pointed out across the bayou. “Because I watch you sometimes, from over there.”

Alice looked to where a single yellow security light glowed against a construction trailer. “You watch me? You spying on me, Jonah?”

“Not spying—the way
some
people do.” He grinned at that. “I just like watching you and being around you. And when I hear that doodlebug coming up the lane, I can't help but glance up. I mean, the thing does clank and clunk its way around town.”

“Okay, so my car is noisy. Which is why I parked so far away from Mr. Gauthier's cabin when I
was
spying on you. What other excuses do
you
have for spying on me?”

He leaned close, one hand going on the doorjamb. “I said, I like watching you. It's that simple. You make me smile.”

Alice sank back against the screen door. “Can't say I've ever heard that one before. Most people run from me in terror.”

“I almost did,” he admitted, his hand slipping back to her hair. “But I'm glad I didn't.”

Almost. There was that word again.

Alice knew he was going to kiss her and so she leaned toward him. She needed to know he felt the same as she did. Just for now, just for tonight.

He lowered his head, his lips touching cheek. “You smell like squash.”

That made her laugh and, when she did, he grabbed her giggle inside a kiss that turned from playful to serious. “I like squash,” he said as he lifted away.

“That's good. Now cut it out and come on inside so we can get this story put to bed. Because once I'm finished with this, we can get on with…being friends.”

His eyes were a smoky gray. “Friends, Alice? Is that what you want from me?”

She wanted a lot, but right now she was afraid to voice those wants. “For now, that would be a good start, don't you think?”

“I can't complain. Considering you weren't so sure about me when we met.”

“I've warmed up to the idea of having you around,” she said as she pushed through the door and flipped on the lights.

“Good, because I just might stick around.”

That caused her to do a spin. “Really? As in, visit for a while or actually move here?”

He looked down at all her notes and files then back up and into her eyes. “I'm thinking about moving here and staying here for a long time.”

Alice tried to hide the little jolts of excitement coursing through her pulse. “I guess we do kind of grow on people—the charming small-town life and all that.”

“It's not just the small-town life, Alice. I want the life itself. I want
a
life. I've never had that.”

Her heart melted at that admission. “But you've accomplished a lot. You managed to go to college, start your own company. You're a self-made man. You should be proud.”

He shrugged. “Maybe, but I've been going through the motions, trying to run from my past at times, and at other times trying to find my past. It's like I've been caught in this vicious cycle, spinning but never actually getting anywhere.” He looked over at her, his eyes going soft. “And then I came here—with a purpose and that underlying hope of finally getting the answers I needed. And in the process, I've turned back to my faith, Alice. I've turned a corner and I think it's all right here. All the answers I've been searching for so long, all the questions I had about trusting in God—it's all right here. I'm thinking now it's not so much about my past, but more about my future. With you.”

Alice had to look away. His words echoed the very prayer she'd sent up to God so many times since she'd grown closer to Jonah. How could she tell him the truth now? How could she shatter that delicate thread of hope she saw in his eyes? She was falling for him and she'd like nothing better than to keep him here, but…if she told him the truth he'd leave. She knew he'd leave because she was beginning to know
him
and how he'd react.

She knew why he always stood just outside the door before entering each time he came to Rosette House. He'd had that image of a home in his mind since an
early age. But in his mind, just as in the picture he'd carried with him, he was always standing outside of the perimeter, just outside of the kind of life he'd always needed. And now, she had invited him in. And by doing so, she'd somehow found the courage to heal her own broken heart and learn to hope again. Her hope was in Jonah now. And in her own growing faith and Jonah's calming presence.

But if he found out the ugliness of what might have happened with his parents, he'd leave Bayou Rosette and never come back. That elusive picture he'd carried in his mind and in his heart would be tainted with tragedy and sadness. And he'd always blame her for forcing him to see the truth.

 

An hour later, Jonah finished reading the pages in front of him, then looked up to find Alice pacing in the cozy sitting room of her apartment.

“What do you think?” she asked as he let out a long breath.

“I think you're a very good journalist,” he responded, meaning it. “You were thorough, accurate with the research about building green and you somehow managed to explain all my hopes and dreams for this development without making me sound like a greedy land developer. And you left my personal life out of it, thank goodness.”

She whirled at that. “Well, your personal life wasn't the focus of this article. This story is business, pure and simple, and it's about something that will be good for this town. I can't see anyone thinking any differently, regardless of what I write.”

He leaned back against his chair, his gaze on her. “But what about you, Alice? What do you think, now that it's all been laid out in front of you?”

She came over to the table then pressed her hands on the smooth wood. “I think this town is blessed to have you, that's what I think. A blessing in disguise, that's what you are. And I think your aunt Nancy was right. You're a gift. You have a gift—to create beautiful places, to build solid homes that good, solid people can afford to live in.”

He shook his head. “While that's all fine and good, I need to know what you think…about me as a person.”

“I just told you.”

“You complimented me but you didn't tell me how you feel…about us. About me.”

She pushed away from the table, a darkness filling her eyes. Maybe she didn't feel the same as he did. “Alice?”

“There's still so much…between us,” she said, her voice low, her head down. “But…we're getting there. We've got time.”

“I know what you said earlier—we're making progress. But
progress
is something a developer would say. I want something more personal, something more intimate to describe what's happening between us.”

When she didn't answer, he got up to pull her around. “Unless you're having second thoughts. Have I been reading things wrong here?”

“No, you're not reading anything wrong. But I have concerns. A lot of concerns.”

He stood back, disappointed but trying to understand. “You're still afraid of being hurt again?”

She lifted her head. “Yes, but…I'm also afraid you'll get hurt.”

That comment perplexed him. “Are you planning on hurting me?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Then tell me what's bothering you.”

Her smile was almost apologetic. “You still have a lot of things to work through.”

“You mean, regarding my mother?”

“Yes. I know you don't want me to interfere—”

“It's not about that,” he said, understanding dawning. “I don't mind that you helped me make a connection with her. It's just that I think this is something I have to finish, one way or another, on my own. I have to do it—it's my problem to solve.”

“And what if you don't like what you find?”

“I'll just have to deal with that when the time comes,” he said, wondering why she was so centered on this now. Was she grasping at things to keep them apart?

Hoping to reassure her, he pulled her close. “Just let me worry about all of that, okay? Right now, I want to enjoy being here with you. We've pushed through some major hurdles, Alice. When we met out there on the bayou, we both had a lot of baggage. You wanted to punish me for what Ned Jackson did to you, and I tried to place you as a roadblock to accomplishing what I'd set out to do here. But I'm not like Ned and I think you can see that now. And…you weren't out to do me in or cause me to get run out of town on a rail. You were just protecting the place and the people you love.”

He lifted his hands, then let them drop by his side. “And look at us now. The things we thought were holding us back are gone, all cleared up. Look how far we've come in the past few weeks. Not only am I going to build this new community, but you seem to be behind me all the way.” Then he tugged her back into his arms. “And…I've found a link to my mother, a link that will guide me through getting these homes built. I'll have her image front and center every time I break ground on a new foundation. No matter what I find out from here on out, I'll always have that image, thanks to you.” He gave her a peck on the cheek. “Don't you think that's pretty cool?”

She bobbed her head. “I think it's wonderful. Almost too wonderful. I'm—”

“You're waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something bad to happen? Well, stop waiting.” He kissed her again. “Nothing is going to happen, because now there is nothing standing between us. All those obstacles weren't the real issue, Alice. The real deal is how we feel about each other. It's down to you and me now. Just you and me.”

Her eyes grew misty as she gazed up at him. And her next words floored him. “Well, maybe that's the part that scares me the most.”

 

She couldn't sleep. The gold-etched porcelain clock on her nightstand told Alice it was close to three in the morning. She had always cherished the hazy memories of her mother and father, but now she could almost hear her mother's voice, soft and whispery against her
ear as she tucked Alice back into bed after a nightmare. “It's always still and scary this time of night, but there's nothing to fear. Christ is watching over you, always.”

BOOK: Gift of Wonder
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