Gift of Wonder (6 page)

This had to be about more than just a stroll down memory lane. Jonah needed information from the local
historian. And Arnold didn't give out information without a very good reason. What was that reason? What was going on?

Did she dare knock on the door and ask?

Or should she just turn around and run back up the lane and go home before both dusk and bugs descended down on her?

Deciding she hadn't sunk so low that she'd intrude on an old man she respected, Alice decided to turn around. She'd confront Jonah later, maybe call him to meet with her tonight after supper. But she had to know. She wanted to trust him but already he was sneaking around, hiding from her.

She got in her car, then sat staring at the woods and the trees, thinking maybe she was being unfair. He hadn't actually been sneaking around. He'd told her she could follow him, right? And she hadn't bothered calling him this morning. That was her fault and her problem if Dotty found out.

She could tell Jonah that Betty Nell had mentioned this visit as a possible source of information, which was true. But would he buy that she only wanted to listen in, or would he think she was spying on him?

“I'm
supposed
to be spying on him, sorta,” she told herself as she drove back toward Rosette House. “That's my job. So why am I being so defensive?” And why wasn't she doing what she usually did with a story—gathering background information, doing her homework, getting together sources and facts. She had to snap out of this morose attitude and get on with things.

She'd call the man. She'd find out what was going on.

Maybe he just needed logical explanations regarding the history of the bayou. But building houses didn't demand much from the past, did it? He did say he loved history and he'd told Betty Nell that was the reason he wanted to talk to some of the local old-timers. Or was Jonah Sheridan here for more than just building houses and studying the local history? Did he have some sort of connection to the Mayeaux clan? Is that why he'd bought the acreage across from Rosette House?

Her gut instincts told her he had another reason for rebuilding this community. But what was that reason? If anyone could find out the truth, it would be her, Alice decided. With that thought in mind, she headed up the stairs to her apartment, hoping her nosy sister wouldn't call her for a report of the day's activities.

The phone was ringing when she unlocked the door.

“I
'll be down later for tea, I promise.”

“No, that won't do,” Lorene said in a prim tone. “You have to come for dinner.”

Alice closed her eyes and counted to ten. Why did Lorene act like a mother hen? “I can't come for dinner. I have some work to do. But tea later would be good.”

“Dinner,” Lorene replied. “You have to. I invited a guest.”

Alice groaned out loud. “You know how I feel about blind dates, Lo.”

“This isn't a blind date,” her sister said. “You know this man.”

Alice tossed down her laptop bag, a sudden sense of doom darkening her mind. Overdramatic, she knew, but it described the feelings coursing through her system. “Who is it?”

“Jonah Sheridan.”

She wanted to scream but she held the scream inside,
opting to question her sister's sanity instead. “Are you crazy? Why would you go and do a thing like that?”

Lorene chuckled. “He called here just a few minutes ago, looking for you. He'd tried both your cell and your apartment phone. Said he was trying to gather as many sources as possible on the history of Bayou Rosette. He wants to tour Rosette House and he wanted you to be here when he does it. I told him you'd be home soon and why didn't he come tonight for dinner.”

“Well, aren't you just Miss Hospitality.” Alice slumped in a high-backed chair, then put one hand on the old, round oak table she'd lovingly restored last year. Her cell was off and she just now saw the blinking light on her answering machine. Avoidance tactics, maybe? “And you know I can't say no, or I'll look like a bad-mannered brat. Why do you do these things to me?”

“I didn't do anything but think logically,” Lorene replied. “I have plenty of fresh, homemade bread and crawfish bisque and the man seemed impatient to ask some questions. I can't think on an empty stomach and you need to eat, don't you?”

“I'm not that hungry.
Now.
”

“Just get down here and help me make a salad,” Lorene said. Then Alice heard the solid flat-line of the dial tone.

“Yes, ma'am.” She threw the phone receiver down, then saluted her sister through the walls.

At least she might be able to ask Jonah how things had gone with Mr. Gauthier. Just seeing his reaction would be worth sitting through an awkward dinner, she
decided. And sooner or later, she had to do her job, whether she wanted to or not. She'd done a lot of behind-the-scenes research on his company, at least. JS Building and Development was a solid company, all right. The man had managed to build a small empire in the last few years. But she wanted to find out more.

What's holding me back, Lord?
Why did she have this sense of dread regarding Jonah? Maybe because he was handsome and interesting and he seemed sincere. And maybe because she wasn't ready to give any man credit for those admirable traits right now. She didn't want to like Jonah. She didn't want to trust him, either. She wanted to stew in her self-pity just a bit more. Only, that was silly and a real waste of time. She could sit through a dinner with him, at least.

She looked at the clock and almost didn't freshen up. Almost. But on a feminine whim, she whirled and headed for the bright, white bathroom, longing for a soothing soak in the big claw-foot tub she'd found in an antique shop in New Orleans. Standing over the gleaming white, old-fashioned pedestal sink, Alice stared in the ornate, gold-etched mirror, deciding her unruly curls couldn't be fixed.

“All frizz in this humidity, as usual,” she said on a loud fume of breath. With a defiant grunt, she shoved most of her curls up and clasped them on top of her head with an industrial-strength silver clip, then brushed her teeth and put on some pink gloss and fresh blush. She changed out of her work clothes into a flowing, lightweight sweater and comfortable old jeans. A quick spray of floral perfume and she was out the door.

And ready to face Jonah Sheridan.

 

He stared across the dinner table at her, the delicious food in front of him growing cold. Why did Alice Bryson push all his buttons this way? Could it be the soft teal-green sweater that only highlighted her eyes, or was it the way she'd pulled her hair up in a haphazard but definitely attractive topknot? No, it was more the way she glanced at him when she thought he wasn't looking. It had to be the way she sat quietly eating her food, the intensity of her thoughts causing her brow to scrunch up. Or maybe it was the way she tore into the delicious fresh bread, then dabbed a bit more butter across the crispy brown crust.

He sure needed to get over any notions of a flirtation with Alice Bryson. He never let down his guard with women. He lived for work and worked to keep the blank spots in his life at bay. And maybe deep down inside, he wished he'd never come across Alice's article about this place. It had stirred up too many long dormant dreams, dreams he'd tried to put to rest. Now he was in turmoil, trying to balance work with personal strife.

“More salad, Jonah?”

He looked away from Alice to find her sister smiling at him with bright, all-seeing green eyes. “No, thanks. I'm good. The bisque is delicious.”

Jay spoke up. “We always freeze some crawfish for the winter—just so Lorene can make her bisque. Wait till you try her crawfish dressing—beats regular turkey and dressing any day. And she makes it every Thanksgiving.”

“I've never heard of that kind of dressing,” Jonah said, wondering if he'd still be around for Thanksgiving. Wishing he could be here for the holiday, he scanned Alice again for any reaction to that notion.

She seemed overly interested in her bread.

“We like to eat around here,” Lorene said, grinning. Then she patted her stomach. “Wow, somebody is sure energetic tonight.”

“Did the baby kick?” Jay asked, his tone soft and intimate as he gazed at his glowing wife.

She nodded then sent him a shy smile. “I think it was a kick. He's been kind of quiet for the last few days. Maybe it was more of a pain—indigestion or something.”

Jay's soft smile changed to a look of concern. “Are you sure?”

“I'm fine,” Lorene replied, her words bringing Alice's head up. “I'm okay, really. Stop worrying, both of you.” She leaned over to give her husband a reassuring peck on the cheek.

Jonah felt as if he were watching a love story on a big screen. And something in the watching made him ache for the same such scene in his own life. Which only caused him to look up at Alice again. And wonder.

She gave him a tight-lipped look, her blue eyes wide with a question. For a minute, he thought she might be feeling the same way. They'd had a nice, civil discussion before dinner on the history surrounding Bayou Rosette, mostly about Rosette House itself. Now he knew a little bit more about two of the original families
who'd settled here. He wanted to ask Lorene and Alice if they knew anything about the Mayeaux family or about the ancient feud Mr. Gauthier had told him about. A feud between the Mayeaux and the Brysons, according to Mr. Gauthier's scanty recollections. Maybe Alice would be able to help him some on that without him having to tell her his real reasons for wanting information. But her next words dashed that brief hope.

“What were you doing at Mr. Gauthier's place today?” she said, her question echoing in the silence. And it was just a bit accusatory, even if she did have a sweet smile on her face.

Surprised, Jonah almost choked on the sip of tea he'd just taken. “How did you know I was there?”

“I'm a reporter, remember? I hear things.” She shrugged. “And see things.”

“Yeah, right.” He wondered if she had indeed been “shadowing” him all day. And what else had she heard?

Lorene dropped her spoon. “Alice, what on earth are you talking about? Mr. Gauthier doesn't let people onto his property.”

“Well, he did today. I saw Jonah there.”

“You
were
following me, then,” Jonah said, feeling both triumph and trepidation.

“Yes, I drove by and checked,” she admitted, seemingly not in the least ashamed or embarrassed.

He had to give her credit for being honest, but he knew her well enough by now to know she wasn't telling him everything. “You can't just drive by that place. If you saw me there then you must have snuck up to the house.”

She leaned forward, tenting her fingers, her elbows hitting the table. “What if I did?”

“That's not very professional, is it?”

Her smile actually looked serene. “I wasn't actually working at the time. I was just curious.”

He smiled back, polite but firm. “Oh, I get it. You wanted to catch me doing something sneaky?”

“Alice, pass me the butter,” Lorene said, her voice full of warning.

Alice slid the pristine crystal butter dish across the Battenburg lace tablecloth toward her sister, but her eyes stayed squarely on Jonah.

“Arnold Gauthier? Is that man still alive?” Jay asked, a hint of amused curiosity in his question.

“He was very alive today, but I'm surprised Jonah still is,” Alice answered. “Did you two have a good talk?”

Jonah dropped his white linen napkin, his face fixed in his own fake smile. “As a matter of fact, we sure did. He told me a lot of things about this town, things that will help me get a handle on the kind of community I'm rebuilding. Good things and bad things.”

“About the whole town or just the Mayeaux family?”

Jonah's pulse throbbed like a toothache, jarring his whole system. He liked this woman but she'd gone too far, messing in his personal business. “About both, actually. It's all part of the history. Just like this house and your land is part of the history.”

“The Mayeaux family?” Lorene looked from Jonah to Alice, then back at her silent husband. “They were trouble from the get-go, according to my daddy. They
never did like any of our relatives and they caused our parents some worries, too. I was real young, but I was relieved they moved away. Why do you want to know about them, anyway?”

“That's what I'd like to hear,” Alice said, her arms now crossed over her stomach. “Why don't you tell us what you learned from Mr. Gauthier, Jonah?”

Jonah turned to Lorene. “I did talk to Mr. Gauthier about the Mayeaux family. He said they'd all left years ago, but he also told me they had a hard time and struggled to make ends meet. I'm going to find out more before I pass judgment.”

Alice leaned forward, her interest obvious. “Why would you want to know about them? What does that have to do with building houses?”

“I want to get a complete picture of life in this area,” he said. A poor excuse, but the only one he could come up with right now. And because he didn't want to discuss it anymore, he got up. “I enjoyed dinner, but I think it's time for me to leave.”

“But what about the tour of the house?” Lorene asked, trying to stand.

“Some other time, maybe,” Jonah replied. “Thanks again.”

He gave Alice one last look. “Next time, just call me and that way you won't have to spy on me without my knowledge.” Then he headed for the double French doors leading out to the front yard and he didn't bother looking back.

Even when he heard one of the doors banging open behind him.

 

“Jonah, wait!”

Alice watched as he stalked toward his car, wondering why she had to be so blunt and bullish at times. She certainly hadn't planned to ambush him that way but…she needed to know, to understand. She couldn't tolerate sneaking around or deceptive business practices. Not ever again.

He was simply visiting an old man who liked to reminisce about the past, she reminded herself as she hurried toward his car. Maybe she'd overreacted. “Are you going to leave then, just like that?”

“Yep.” He got in, then stared out the window at her.

She knocked on the glass, thinking she should just let him go. But the look he'd given her in there shattered all of her resolve and made her want to explain. “Jonah, listen to me.”

He finally let down the window. “I don't have to listen to you because you certainly don't listen to me. I told you I didn't mind you hanging out with me, Alice. But I do mind you sneaking around trying to make something sinister out of something normal. I'm a historian. I love history and I like to get all the historical facts on a place before I build houses. But I've told you all of this already. And even though your family apparently had a long-standing problem with the Mayeaux from way back when, it's especially important to me to get the facts straight about Bayou Rosette—the good and the bad.”

“Why?” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Why is it so very important? I still don't get why you
came here and why you're so intent on doing this. I mean, you could rebuild in New Orleans or Biloxi or Bay Saint Louis, even Waveland. We weren't the only town affected by the hurricanes.”

He looked out into the night then back at her. “But—”