Читать книгу Gift of Wonder - Lenora Worth - Страница 10

“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 Shreveport 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.

Then he said, “Let’s say grace and get to that pot roast.”

Lorene giggled like a schoolgirl. Alice smiled and grabbed their hands. And stewed about Jonah Sheridan while Jay said a lovely blessing. When she opened her eyes, her shrewd sister was staring at her. “Okay, start talking, Alice. What did you find out from our mysterious visitor?”

Jonah was stewing away over a cup of coffee in the tiny diner on the bottom floor of the Bayou Belle Inn. He was beginning to doubt his own sanity. Why had he come here? Oh, yeah. He wanted to build a new community on Bayou Rosette and he wanted to find out about the family who’d lived across from Rosette House. Two lofty notions, but he was willing to work on both—one to keep him busy and the other to finally find some closure in his life. If a certain curly-haired blonde with a hefty attitude didn’t get in his way. Or discover the truth before he ever broke ground.

“Why you look so glum, mon ami?”

Jonah looked up to find the proprietor of the Belle staring at him with a hangdog expression. Jimmy Germain had a gray beard and a little bit of gray hair to match on the back of his round head. He was short and husky and laughed with a robust belly bounce. His wife, Paulette, was also short and wide and very friendly. They made a good team and they cooked some good food.

So why wasn’t Jonah eating his crawfish po’boy?

“I went out to look at Rosette House today,” he explained. He had to be very careful what he said since the rumors were already flying fast and furious.

“Did the girls give you a tour of the old place?”

Jonah’s moroseness lifted at that question. “They give tours?”

“If you ask real nice, sure.”

“Oh, well, then I guess I won’t be invited in for a tour. I met one of the Bryson sisters today.”

Jimmy’s grin widened and the belly bounce began as he chuckled so hard his ruddy complexion beamed scarlet. “I’m guessing it wasn’t sweet Lorene.”

“No…it was the other sister. Alice.”

“Oo-wee! She’s a firecracker, for sure.”

“You can say that again,” Jonah replied, grabbing a crispy fried crawfish tail off his sandwich. He popped the spicy tidbit in his mouth and chewed. “What’s her story, anyway? I mean, I know she’s single and she works at the Bayou Buzz and all that. But…is there something else I need to know?”

Jimmy leaned close. “That, my friend, would require about three hours of my valuable time.”

Jonah ate another crawfish. “I got nowhere to go. Talk to me.”

Jimmy’s eyes shifted as he put his beefy elbows on the mahogany counter. “Alice, she has trust issues with men.”

“You don’t say.”

Jimmy nodded. “Right after the storm when things were so bad around here, she fell for a contractor who was passing through. He took on work—remodeling and such—and he also took off with some of our hard-earned money in the process. Never finished the work.” He shook his head. “And the worst of it—Alice believed in him, thought he’d come to help us. But he was just a greedy man who’d come to take advantage of us. He took advantage of Alice’s good graces, too. He had her up to the altar, ready to marry him, probably just so he could get his hands on her inheritance. But she got wind of his shenanigans and questioned him minutes before the wedding. He denied all of it, then he blamed her for not believing in him. He left, just like that. On to the next town, I reckon. Left that pretty little bride heartbroken and humiliated. She’s not over that yet. Might not ever be over it.”

Jonah pushed the rest of his sandwich away. Alice had said as much. She’d said they’d all been taken advantage of. That some of them had been hurt.

And she was the one who’d been hurt the most, from the way she’d acted today. And no wonder. A jilted bride. Jilted by a man who’d offered her hope while he swindled everyone in town. Just as Jonah had offered her hope today with all his big plans.

“It’s worse than I thought,” he said, staring into his cold coffee. “She must think I’m like that. But I’m not. Not at all. I could never leave my bride at the altar.” Especially if she sparkled with life the way Alice did, part fire and part flowers.

Jimmy patted his meaty hand on the counter, his words full of sympathy. “Yep. A woman scorned. It ain’t good, that’s for sure.”

Jonah paid Jimmy and bid him good-night. Then he walked out and stared down the long main street of Bayou Rosette. And he wondered what was going through Alice Bryson’s mind right now.

Was she thinking about him? Or was she thinking up ways to stop him before he ever got started, just to prove a point about some idiot who’d done her wrong? And why did he care, anyway? He’d get the job done. He’d build his community. He wanted to do this. Had to do it, for more reasons than he could explain or even justify to himself. But he’d never factored in that the woman who’d inadvertently caused him to come down here on this crazy whim might also turn out to be the very one who’d put a crimp in his plans. Maybe he should just go back to Shreveport.

You’re not a quitter, he told himself. You’ve dealt with much worse than a jilted blonde with an ax to grind. And he’d always done things on his own terms, even though Aunt Nancy had urged him to turn to God for guidance.

But Jonah didn’t need God’s help on this. He just needed Alice Bryson to play nice and let him do his job. And he hoped while he was here he could find the truth at last. He wasn’t concerned so much about Alice. He’d get around her and build his new community, one way or another. But he was concerned about those questions he’d had all his life. What if he didn’t like the answers?

Maybe that was why he was so worried he hadn’t been able to finish eating the best crawfish po’boy he’d ever tasted.

Alice Bryson was just one person. One very forceful person. He’d worked for months on clearing the way for approval so he could get the whole town in on this renovation. He’d make them believe he could do this. He had to. Because he needed to do this. He’d come on this quest, this journey, to fulfill his creative need to build things, but the main reason he was here was to fill that empty place deep inside his soul.

He didn’t exactly want to call it a “God moment,” as some of his friends back home might say, but it sure had seemed that way when he’d stumbled across Alice’s intriguing story. He had to help Bayou Rosette. Because he was pretty sure he came from the Mayeaux family and that this was the place where his biological mother had been born and raised, right across the bayou from Rosette House.

And somehow, while he was here he had to find out why that same mother had abandoned him and never looked back.