Gift of Wonder (2 page)

She liked that he seemed nervous. It gave her the upper hand. “Relax. We don't see many whales on the bayou.”

“That's good. I stay in enough trouble as it is.”

She pushed at her curly hair. “And why is that?”

He held up the electronic gadget in his hand. “Oh, people think I'm strange. I take copious notes. I wasn't exactly talking to myself. This is a tape recorder. Helps me to stay
out
of trouble.”

“I use a tape recorder myself sometimes,” she replied. “I'm a reporter for the
Bayou Buzz
magazine.”

His eyes widened. “So it is you. You're—”

Surprised, she nodded. “Alice Bryson. The one and only. And how do you know me?”

He grinned and lowered his head. “I saw your article about the history of Rosette House a few months ago—it was reprinted in the New Orleans newspaper. I actually have a copy back in my room at the bed-and-breakfast in town.” He pointed to the house. “Since I'm a history buff, I decided to read up on this area. I was interested in how you rebuilt the bottom floor of the house after the storm.”

Alice scrutinized him for sincerity but couldn't tell for sure. Did she sense hesitancy in him? Or was he holding back something important, maybe trying to pull the wool over her eyes? “Well, that's good to know. My editor wasn't sure we should run with that cover story, but I convinced her.”

“I just reckon you did.”

“I was pleasantly surprised when the newspaper picked it up. It's been good for business around here.”

“It sure got
me
interested.”

“Oh, yeah—and just what
are
you doing in our small town?”

“You don't mince words, do you?”

She grinned. “Some say I'm way too blunt. I just believe in cutting to the chase.”

He put the tape recorder in his pocket, then put his hands on his hips. “Well, it's supposed to be a secret right now.”

Alice hid the excitement making her pulse race. She was way too nosy for her own good, but that also made her job a lot more interesting and challenging. “Off the record?”

“If you don't mind, yes. It's been in the works for months now and soon everyone will know, but I'm here to plan a new community and I just got here this morning to officially get things started. Permits, contracts and all that.”

“Yeah, and all that. We'd heard rumors but no one around here would talk. The mayor's been tight-lipped. The chamber of commerce wouldn't budge, so we just had to sit and wait. I don't like sitting and waiting.”

He nodded, then blew out a breath, his earnest gaze clashing with her doubting one. “Can you sit on this a bit longer, just until I get everything lined up for the town meeting next week?”

Alice didn't like that request. “Maybe, if you level with me.”

“I
am
leveling with you.” He raised a hand. “Look around. This land is a mess. I'd like to rebuild it, only better.”

“You mean, all bright and new and green, right?”

“Word does spread around here.”

“Yep. And we're all for improving things, but…you'll have to do a lot of tall talking to make this stick.”

“I plan to,” he said. “That's why I'm out here talking to myself. I've had people out here, checking around, but I wanted to see the land with my own eyes.”

Alice didn't know why he made her fidget, maybe because right this very minute he wasn't looking at the land. He was looking at her. She wasn't shy; she loved to talk it up with people and she was a born extrovert. That's how she got the best angles for her feature stories. But this interesting stranger made her want to fluff her hair and put on lipstick. To ward off these strange feelings, she said, “You know, Einstein said, ‘Why remember it when you can write it down.' I guess it's the same with recording it, huh?”

“Exactly.” He twirled a finger by his ear. “Sometimes, I get so much going inside my head I go into overload. I have all these plans—”

“For our little bayou.”

“Yes.” He pointed to the south. “You know it's worse down that way. I want to build nice, comfortable, affordable houses so that everyone who had to leave this area can come home again. And I think the local economy would be better for it, too.”

Alice stared at him, wondering why he was so enthusiastic about a town he'd just discovered a few
months ago. “What brought you here to Bayou Rosette, anyway? I can't see you coming here just because of my article, so why us?”

He glanced over at her house then back into her eyes. “Honestly, it
was
your magazine article, Alice. I read the story of Rosette Benoit Bryson and what you wrote about the house, but you also wrote about the history of your family…and about how dire things were after the hurricane hit. You said you wanted people to know about your bayou and your town, you wanted them to remember the past so they could rebuild for the future. That's kinda the way I think, too. After I read it, I did my research and I knew I had to come down here and meet Rosette's descendants. Especially the one who'd written with such pride about her ancestors. Your article made me want to do something to help this community.”

Alice didn't know how to respond to that. So she just said, “Thank you. But it has to be more than that.”

He leaned forward, his expression solemn and sure. “It's a whole lot more, yes. But for now, I can honestly say
you're
the main reason I'm here.”

“I
beg your pardon? What do you mean, I'm the
main
reason you're here?” She stepped closer. “You said there was a lot more to it and I think I need to know what that means.”

Jonah slapped at a mosquito buzzing by his ear. He shouldn't have blurted that out, but it was the truth. Well, part of the truth, at least. But since she looked as if she might bolt away like a frightened doe, he tried to explain. “Your article, I mean. I told you I'm a history buff and reading your article made me want to see more of Bayou Rosette. And because of that, I decided to invest in this place.”

She looked doubtful. “So, let me get this straight. You read my article and
that
caused you to want to build houses across from Rosette House?”

“Yes.” He wasn't one for sweating under pressure, but the way her big blue eyes filled with distrust made him think he was on a witness stand. What would she say if he told her the complete truth of why he was
here—that he was pretty sure his relatives had once lived across the bayou from her, right here where they were standing. Since he couldn't begin to tell her something he wasn't even sure of himself, he only said, “Your words inspired me.”

That much was true. But more importantly, her thorough history had convinced Jonah he'd finally found a link to his past.

She burst out laughing. “Now, that's a new one.”

“What do you mean?”

She wiped at her eyes and grinned at him. “Do you honestly expect me to believe my little feature article on the history of this house and this backwater bayou inspired you to want to come here and build houses and do good for our little town?”

“Well, yes, but when you put it like that—”

“Where exactly did you come from, anyway?”

“Shreveport,” he said, hitting at the buzz in his ear again. “These mosquitoes are getting worse now that dusk is coming.”

“Bring bug spray next time,” she suggested, her hands on her hips. “What do you do in Shreveport—besides being a history buff?”

“I'm a builder and an architect. I own a land development company—JS Building and Development, Inc. I buy up property and redevelop it.”

Her eyes narrowed, then brightened with a dangerous glint. “Well, at least you have the right credentials.”

“Yes, I do. I've built office complexes and parks. I helped remodel a whole building in downtown Shreve
port a couple of years ago. It's a complete model for green living.”

“
Green living
sure is the buzzword with you. Even more buzzy than these pesky mosquitoes.”

“It's a good way to rebuild, don't you think?”

“I'm still trying to decide, but it sounds reasonable.”

Thinking he was making some headway, he hit at a mosquito on his jacket sleeve and sent the poor creature to its demise. He wasn't ready to explain how seeing this particular house on a newspaper page had caused him to drop everything and head south. That was personal. Too personal. Especially when she was glaring at him with what looked like deadly intent.

He tried again. “I want to help this community. And I've done studies, I've researched this area's economy and I've talked to several local businessmen and officials. They've all grilled me about budgets and permits and codes and economic impact, but you're the first person to question my
motives.
”

She pushed at her unruly golden hair. “Maybe that's because I'm the person living right across the water. Maybe because I like things the way they are—nice and quiet and private.”

“But…you had neighbors before.” He pointed to the remains of a small cottage around the curve in the bayou. He knew she'd had neighbors. He'd fully researched her former neighbors while trying to find his relatives. “Don't you want neighbors again?”

She looked at him then glanced around. “I don't know. Where we're standing has always been kind of empty and overgrown, but I got used to it that way. I
think someone lived over here long ago, but that family moved away before I was even born.”

“Did your families get along?”

She put her hands on her hips, probably wondering what kind of question that was for a developer to be asking. “Not always, but we managed. Some of our past neighbors haven't been exactly friendly, according to my older sister. It's kinda pleasant out here now. Or it was until today.”

“You can't be serious?”

She shook her head and finally smiled. “I'm just messing with you on that account. Yes, I miss all of the old neighbors—the ones I remember from around the bend here. A lot. But…I'm not so sure I want a whole new community right across from my house. And I'm really not sure about you and why you want to build here. Can't you find work up in Shreveport?”

“Yes, I have plenty of work. And my employees are working around the clock on several different projects, including this one. We're solid.”

“Uh-huh. So solid you dropped everything to rush down here and measure land right across from my home.”

“It wouldn't be directly across from you,” he said. “I see this as a good investment, an economic prospect that will create jobs and housing. But it shouldn't interfere with your property at all—I was actually measuring right here for a park, maybe. A small park with a swing and benches and a walking trail leading to the homes. But I do plan on buying up the land next to yours. The actual community would be around the curve in the bayou.”

“But what about this land we're standing on? How are you gonna buy it and build a park on it? Like I said, the people who lived here moved away a long time ago. And since then, this land has turned into part of the swamp.”

Jonah gave her the barest of answers. “They sold it to someone else when they left. I had one of my brokers track down that owner and we made him an offer. He seemed glad to be rid of it.”

“Yes, I imagine he is at that. I never knew who bought it from the Mayeaux. Whoever it was didn't bother to mow it or keep it clean. Somebody did finally come and take away what was left of the old house after the hurricane.”

Jonah tried not to flinch. She'd just verified what he needed to know. The Mayeaux family had lived right here on this land at one time. But he'd bought it from someone else. And now it was his. Kind of ironic and all the more proof that he was meant to be here. “I'll keep it clean, I can promise you that. It's gonna look a lot better once we get this subdivision up.”

“That's good. It tends to draw snakes and other creepy things.” She turned to leave. “Now go on back to the Bayou Belle Inn and put some calamine lotion on those bug bites.”

Jonah's relief was instant but he hid it behind trying to win her over. He would have thought she'd be the first one in line behind him on this project. “Hey, wait. Don't you want to hear more?”

“I think I've heard enough. You're going to come in and rebuild this community. That's good for everyone, I'd think.”

She wasn't as excited as he'd hoped. “I'll be right here for the duration, if you have any questions. And I'll keep tabs on things long after we're finished, of course. This project means—”

She whirled then, her eyes bright with misgivings. “What does it mean—for you? I know what it will mean to the people of this town and I truly hope you succeed, because we need a little hope around here.”

Seeing her doubt and a bit of sadness in her eyes, Jonah followed her across the arched bridge. “But you don't believe I can do it, do you?”

She stopped, turned to face him. Her eyes had lost some of their fire. Now she looked gloomy, her whole body going still and quiet. “After the hurricane, things were bad around here. We were mostly cut off from the rest of the world. But we weren't cut off from the scams. Some of our neighbors got taken advantage of, big-time.” She looked out over the old oak trees lining her side of the bank. “A lot of us got our feelings hurt. We trusted too quickly, because we were still reeling from all that had happened. So excuse me if I don't exactly believe in a pretty boy with big promises of a grand scheme.”

He let that settle for a few seconds, then said, “First, I don't do scams. I'm a legitimate businessman and I'm good at what I do—and your entire town council has checked and rechecked my credentials. Second, I'd never take advantage of anyone. I believe in solid investments, but I also believe in being efficient, economical and energy conscious. And third, do you really think I'm a ‘pretty boy'?”

She gave him a look that would have made an alligator grit his teeth and go back underwater. “I've seen your kind before, hotshot. And yes, I'm learning to question everything and everybody these days. So while I wish you the best, I'm not convinced.” With that she took off walking across the rickety old bridge, her arms swinging, her hair bouncing. “Nice talking to you. See you at the next town hall meeting. I'll be there with my tape recorder.”

Jonah swallowed, took a breath then called, “Hey, you never did answer my question. Do you think I'm—”

She held up a hand but kept walking. “You don't want to know what I think about you right now, trust me.”

Trust
her?
He wanted to laugh out loud. But he didn't dare. Before he could trust her, he'd probably have to work double time just to get
her
to trust
him.
He couldn't have her writing a scathing article about his plans. That wouldn't work at all. Because she might dig too deep and find out the whole story behind his sudden, impulsive need to build on this ground. The Bryson sisters obviously carried a lot of weight in this town. He'd need their support, or his hopes and dreams could sink in the water.

But how was he supposed to win her over when he couldn't even begin to explain why he'd taken a leave of absence from his own firm to come down here to personally supervise this project? How did a man explain to a complete stranger that he needed to know about this land and this town because he might have roots here?

He stared at her until she reached the steps leading to the second-story porch of the big, square white house, then shouted, “Can't we sit down and discuss this a little more?”

“See you at the meeting,” she replied. Then she turned and waved to him before disappearing with a flounce through the screen door.

It swung wide and banged out a warning as it fell back against the door frame. A loud warning.

 

“Are you coming down for dinner?”

Alice heard the hidden question in her sister's demand: Are you coming down to tell me everything and I mean everything because I watched the whole thing through the window and I'm dying to know.

She wasn't in the mood to talk. But she was in the mood for biscuits and leftover pot roast. “I'll be there in a couple of minutes.”

Going to the tall windows of her cozy kitchen-and-den combination on the top left side of the house, she checked to make sure
he
was gone. When she didn't see him in the growing dusk, she passed a hand over her hair then headed down the steps from her private apartment to the front door of the house.

The stairs leading down from the second floor made it easy for Alice to scoot down for meals with her sister and brother-in-law. But she tried to give them their privacy, so she didn't make this a habit.

Except for Sundays. Sundays would always be family day at Rosette House. And tonight, as the sun sank in a swirl of pink and gold across the bayou and the
frogs and cicadas started singing out in the swamp, she needed to be with family. Why was dusk always such a lonely time of day?

Putting thoughts of Jonah Sheridan out of her mind, Alice admired the bright orange pumpkins and lush yellow-and-red mums Lorene had arranged on a fresh bale of hay by the door. Her sister and Jay had remodeled what used to be considered the basement into a beautiful country kitchen and a huge hearth room, complete with the original fireplace and chimney. There was a breakfast nook in the kitchen and a formal dining room and tiny powder room across the wide hall on the other side of the house. Today, the tall French doors were thrown open to the late-autumn breezes flowing through the cross-ventilated rooms.

When Alice came through the double French doors into the breakfast room, the smell of fresh biscuits and pot roast wafted out to greet her and made her think of her parents. She could almost hear her mother's gentle laughter, could see her daddy's twinkling blue eyes. How she missed them.

But she had Lorene and Jay and soon they'd all have a baby to spoil. “Want me to pour the tea?” she said by way of a greeting.

“Sure,” Lorene said, glancing up as if to gauge Alice's mood. “Have you been working?”

“No. Just folding some clothes and checking e-mail, nothing special.”

Jay looked from his wife to Alice, his dark brown eyes questioning. He knew they had their own kind of language, or at least he accused them of that very thing.
A language full of feminine undertones and hushed whispers, he'd say. Alice pitied the poor man. He always squinted whenever they got going with the small talk that meant big talk later. Jay wanted to understand but he never would, really. Her brother-in-law was more comfortable out on a tractor, farming the land, than he was trying to figure out women. So now, in typical, quiet Jay fashion, he just sat and listened until they'd talked all around the subject not yet mentioned.