Читать книгу Gift of Wonder - Lenora Worth - Страница 11

“I don’t understand why you were so rude to the man.”

Shoving her floral tote bag and her purse into her yellow vintage Volkswagen, Alice closed her eyes and counted to ten to drown out her sister’s voice. How could she explain to Lorene that Jonah Sheridan reminded her of all she’d lost? She’d placed her heart in a stranger’s hand once before and look where that had gotten her. Jilted and tossed aside, left embarrassed and bitter.

“Alice, are you listening to me?”

Alice turned at the door of her car. “I hear you loud and clear, Lorene, and I’ve tried to tell you how I feel. The man has this lofty plan. It just sounds too good to be true to me. And I wasn’t rude. I just didn’t get all giddy when he went on and on about building a new community across from us.”

“Not right across,” Lorene reminded her. “I think a park would be wonderful across the bridge. “I could take the baby for walks over there.”

Alice shook her head. “I knew better than to tell you anything. You can’t go spreading that around. Everything he told me was off the record.”

“I understand,” Lorene said, holding the water hose out to send a spray over her geraniums and mums. “I won’t say a word. But I’m sure the whole town is speculating about what he wants to do, since I’ve had phone calls all day about it.”

“And that’s just it,” Alice replied, getting in the tiny convertible. “It’s all speculation and I’m tired of speculators and curiosity seekers and people thinking they can just come in and take over and make things better again. They can’t make it better and we both know that.”

Lorene dropped her hose and came to stand by the car. “Alice, you need to work on your negative attitude. You’ve got to look at the bright side. Our house was spared. We’re okay. And everybody in this town did what they could to help each other. What’s wrong with someone else coming to help, too? We need some new ideas around here, or we’ll keep on suffering. I just don’t see what’s wrong with that. And even though you went through the worst before, this is different. It’s a little bit of hope. Real hope.”

“I’m fresh out of hope,” Alice countered, wondering how Lorene would feel if Jay had left her high and dry at the altar. But then, Jay Hobert was not that kind of man. He had integrity and he loved Lorene. Cranking the car, she waited for it to sputter to life then looked up into Lorene’s disappointed face. “I’m sorry, Lo. I should be more like you, but I can’t see the bright side of this.”

Lorene leaned in close, as close as her growing stomach would let her. “Honey, he read your story. That means your words made a difference to someone, and this particular someone isn’t a fly-by-night drifter out to do us in. Didn’t you write that story so people would remember Bayou Rosette and all that our ancestors did to make this a good town, and to make people more aware that we’re still alive and kicking around here?”

Alice looked out over the garden, remembering her parents sitting in the old swing, smiling and giggling. The yard was becoming dormant now, shutting down for fall and winter. She wished she could just shrink away and hibernate, too. Why was she being so stubborn about this? “Yes, I did write about our history to attract visitors. I just wanted people to see us, to notice us.”

Lorene rested her hand on her stomach. “Well, somebody did. And I say more power to the man.”

“Power—that’s what scares me,” Alice replied. Then she patted her sister’s hand. “I’ve got to get to work. I’m sure Dotty will be all over this like a duck on a june bug. I might not like the man, but if anyone gets this story, it’s gonna be me. I have to convince Dotty of that.”

“You’ll do it justice, I know,” Lorene said. “You’re always fair. Just try to have an open mind, okay?”

“Okay, all right,” Alice said as she shifted into Reverse and backed the car out of the driveway. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

Lorene didn’t look so sure. Alice had given her sister plenty of reason to doubt over the years since their parents had died in a car wreck out on the interstate. Alice had been thirteen, Lorene eighteen, when it had happened. They had clung together and refused to leave their home even though friends and relatives from around the state had offered them shelter. Lorene had finished high school, but instead of going to Tulane as she’d always dreamed, she had taken classes at a nearby community college so she could stay with Alice. Then she had worked it out so that a retired aunt could come and help out with Alice while Lorene worked at night at a local restaurant. Somehow, between the modest inheritance their parents had left and their combined work money, they’d managed to hang on to their house and land—even through a major storm and even through Alice’s devastation after Ned Jackson’s lies.

So much sacrifice. Lorene had worked at night to make extra money, just so they could keep Rosette House and so Alice could get the degree at Tulane that Lorene never had the chance to pursue. Between her scholarships and her own job, Alice had managed to get through college, but she came home the minute she graduated, armed with a journalism degree and a restless spirit. She didn’t want to be anywhere else, she reminded herself now. She owed her sister so much. Maybe she could try to change her attitude, for Lorene’s sake, at least. And to remind herself that she’d come home hoping to make changes, hoping to create her own niche here in the place she loved.

What if Jonah Sheridan could help her do that? Would that be so wrong? Alice didn’t have the same strong convictions as her sister. She prayed, same as Lorene, but she wasn’t so sure her requests were always as pure as her sister’s. But in spite of her doubts and her cynical nature, Alice still held out hope, too. She didn’t like to admit that, but if she looked closely she knew she’d find a little glimmer of hope somewhere deep inside her bruised heart. How else could she have written that story only months after Ned had broken her heart? She wasn’t so sure she was ready to nurture that hope, though.

“We need to follow up on this, Alice,” Dotty Tillman said later that morning. “You need to follow up on this. So why are you sitting here?”

Alice lifted an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting I stalk the man, Dotty?”

Dotty stuck her pen into the thick auburn-colored bundle of wiry hair surrounding her café-au-lait face, then looked down through her pink bifocals. “Isn’t that what a good reporter does?”

Alice was suddenly having doubts regarding her abilities to remain neutral about Jonah Sheridan. “But…by the time our story comes out next month, he might be long gone anyway.”

Dotty again looked through her bifocals, a hand moving in the air. “Okay, kid, what’s really going on? You come in here and tell me about this Jonah Sheridan person and how he’s out to rebuild practically the whole town, but you don’t have that enthusiasm I like in a reporter. In fact, you seem downright depressed about this scoop. Spill it, Alice.”

Alice sank back in her chair then glanced out the front window of the tiny cottage where the Bayou Buzz offices were located on Bayou Drive. Everything around here seemed to have the word bayou in it, one way or another. Maybe because all the people around here had bayou blood running through their veins. She could see the Bayou Belle Inn across the square.

The blue Victorian house that had become an inn and restaurant over twenty years ago sat back from the road, surrounded by ancient live oaks and tall magnolias on the street side and bald cypress trees and trailing bougainvillea vines on the bayou side. Leaves from the nearby red oaks and tallow trees floated by in graceful symmetry each time the fall wind blew. Alice shivered, feeling that wind like a warning inside her soul.

“I guess I don’t buy it,” she finally admitted. “He just shows up one day all gung ho about a place he’s never even seen before. I don’t trust this man.”

Dotty let out a huff of breath. “Suga’, you don’t trust any man, not since—”

“Don’t remind me,” Alice said, getting up to pace around the square office, where her own big desk behind the reception counter served as her home away from home. “I don’t want to make the same mistake twice, Dotty. I vouched for Ned. I convinced people to hire him. And even though Jonah Sheridan seems like the real deal, I just can’t get excited about this. Maybe I am being too negative, but it’s hard right now.”

Dotty dropped her glasses on Alice’s desk. Her gold hoop earrings shimmied as she shook her head. “We all make mistakes, you know. Especially when it comes to men.”

“Is that why you’ve never married?” Alice asked, hoping to glean a bit of information from her tight-lipped boss. No one really knew much about Dotty, except that she had grown up in Texas and lived in New Orleans until a few years ago. She’d started a multicultural magazine there, but something had gone wrong and she’d wound up here. A blessing for Alice, since she’d needed a job, but a mystery for the whole town. More fat to chew, more fodder for bayou legends. “Dotty?”

Dotty’s exotic chocolate-colored eyes widened. “We were talking about you, kid, not me.”

And that was as far as she usually got with lovable, stubborn, opinionated, exotic Dotty. No denial, no explanation. Dotty didn’t talk about Dotty. But she lived to write the truth about everyone else.

“I’ll get the story. You know that,” Alice said, wishing Dotty would allow other human beings close. Her boss was a loner. And she never darkened the church doors. Dotty didn’t seem to need God in her life. And that made Alice sad. And determined to help her friend and mentor.

“I want the story, no doubt,” Dotty said, getting back to business. “But I want a good, solid story. Not just some notes and an attitude. Get to the bottom of this, Alice. Find out what’s behind Jonah Sheridan’s driving need to come to a town he’d never even visited and help us rebuild. Does he have some gold stashed away to help the poor and needy? Or does he have some other reason for wanting to do this? You need to find out, because we both know there’s always more to the story.”

“I will,” Alice said, but her heart hammered like loose tin hitting against a barn roof, fast and steady. “I didn’t say I had to like the man to get to the truth.”

“No, you sure didn’t,” Dotty replied, her expression smug and sure. “You didn’t have to. Apparently, our Mr. Sheridan got to you in a big way.”

Alice shook her head. “No, he didn’t. He did not. He just got my feathers ruffled with all his pie-in-the-sky talk.”

“And maybe with his crisp brown hair and lady-killer smile?” Dotty asked, staring beyond where Alice stood with her back to the window. “Or maybe the way he walks all loose-limbed and laid-back?”

“You’ve seen him?” Alice wanted to bite her tongue. She’d just verified that she agreed with Dotty’s spot-on description by blurting out the question.

“Yep,” Dotty replied without missing a beat. “Up close, too.”

“When?”

“About two minutes ago, when he started walking across the street toward our front door.”

Alice whirled around in shock just as the man himself opened the door and looked up to find her staring at him.

Jonah’s surprise caused him to inhale a deep breath. “Uh, hello, ladies.” He could tell they’d been discussing him, since one looked guilty and the other one looked amused.

The guilty one—the one with the blond curls dancing around her high cheekbones—sank back against a cluttered desk. “What brings you to see us, Mr. Sheridan?”

“It’s Jonah,” he said, leaning against the tall receptionist’s counter. “I came by to see if we could talk.”

The amused one got up and came around the desk to extend her hand. “I’m sorry. Our receptionist is out on an errand. I’m Dotty Tillman, publisher and owner of the Bayou Buzz. And you’re just the man we wanted to see.”

He smiled, thinking this was a very good sign. He’d thought about how to deal with Alice Bryson, and he’d decided to gain her trust before she decided to delve too heavily into him and his past and his future. He had to keep her close so she wouldn’t dig too deep. “Great, because I wanted to see you, too.” He shook Dotty’s hand but he kept his eyes on Alice. “If you’re not busy.”

“We are,” Alice said, folding her arms across her midsection in a hostile stance.

“We are not,” Dotty replied as she cut her gaze to Alice. “Come on back and have a seat, Jonah. Maybe you can fill us in on all these rumors. Tell us a little bit more about your plans for this area.”

Seeing the perturbed look on Alice’s face, Jonah walked past her and settled down on a high-backed floral chair. “That’s why I’m here, actually. I plan on giving the local weekly paper an interview, but I wanted to offer y’all the chance for an all-out, in-depth exclusive on this project. That way, your story will hit at just about the time we get things going on the property.”

Dotty grinned big, her dark eyes beaming with glee. “Funny, that’s exactly what we were talking about. I just assigned Alice to cover you—I mean, to cover your project. I wanted her to find out all she could so our readers will get the big picture on this.”

“I’m willing to allow that,” Jonah replied. This was going better than he’d imagined. “I want y’all to understand the importance of this plan.”

Alice didn’t move. She didn’t even seem to be breathing. She just stared at both of them as if she were caught in some sort of trap. And maybe he was entrapping her. She wanted a story and he wanted her approval. This seemed the best way toward achieving both.

“Alice, you heard the man,” Dotty said. “So what’s the plan, Jonah?”

He leaned forward, cupping his hands together. “I think it would be a good idea for Alice to shadow me while I’m here over the next few weeks.” He met her heated gaze with a determined look. “I’ll give you full access to my reports, my blueprints and my construction plans, then you can decide what kind of spin you want to put on the story.”

“And you won’t force me to sugarcoat it?”

“Not at all. I’m sure you’ll be so impressed that you’ll want to write a glowing report.”

“Mighty confident, isn’t he?” Dotty asked with a wink.

“Yes, mighty.” Alice sliced him with her glare. “What’s the name of your project?”

Surprised at that question coming out of the blue, he said, “I haven’t really given it a name yet. I wanted to come down here first, get a feel for things.”

“Uh-huh. And what are you feeling so far?”

Jonah couldn’t answer that question right now. Because he was certainly feeling things he’d never experienced before with any other woman—a sense of confusion, a little bit of awe and admiration, and a whole lot of attraction. He swallowed, noticed the room had grown quiet and warm. “I want to name this development something unique and different, something meaningful. I guess it’ll come to me sooner or later.”

“I need to know what to call it—for the article,” Alice replied, obviously oblivious to the buzz of electricity that seemed to hiss through the air around them. “And right now, I’m feeling either Pipe Dream or Scam City. How does that sound?”

“Alice!” Dotty’s shrill voice broke the tension in the room. “Do you want this story or not, ’cause I can assign it to Scooter if you don’t.”

Alice scowled at Dotty. “Scooter? He’s an intern. He couldn’t do this story justice if it came to him complete in a dream.”

“Exactly. But he might have a more professional attitude, if you get my drift.”

Jonah was getting her drift, all right. Dotty looked as tough as nails in spite of her bright-colored, abstract silk blouse and pink fingernail polish. But Alice seemed every bit as formidable in her white sweater and blue button-up shirt and crisp khaki work pants. Coupled with that chip on her shoulder, of course.

“I’m sorry,” Alice said, looking contrite. “I’ll do the story,” she added, her blue eyes tinged with fire. “But I want all the details, everything. I owe it to the people of this town to give them the truth. And I do mean the whole truth.”

“You’ve got it,” Jonah said, reaching out to shake her hand. “I’ve got nothing to hide.” At least work-wise, he had nothing to hide.

Alice took his hand and gripped it with all the strength of a vise. “Don’t make me regret this,” she told him, squeezing his fingers together, her smile so pretty no one would know she was trying to cut off the circulation to his arm.

“You won’t regret it,” he promised with a prayer. After Alice released his hand, he said, “I’ll show you I have good intentions.”

Dotty stood up. “Okay then, we have four weeks until we go to print. Let’s get cracking.”

Jonah stood and shook out his fingers. “When do you want to get started?” he asked Alice.

“Now’s as good a time as any,” she said. “Let’s start with those reports and plans you mentioned.”

Jonah nodded. “Want to meet me over at the Bayou Belle Café? I’ll buy lunch.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” she said, her look sweeping over him with a dare. “And I’m always prompt.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He nodded to Dotty—who was still very amused—then stepped out into the glaring fall sunshine. Why did it feel as if he’d just been handed a sentence to be executed?

But when he glanced back through the big window and saw Alice staring out at him with that deadly blue intent in her big eyes, he understood. He was afraid of how this woman made him feel—threatened and exposed and…longing for something he couldn’t have. He was about to share his hopes and dreams with her. And she was all geared up to stomp them flat with her bitterness and her distrust of men coming to town bearing hope. He didn’t need that kind of distraction on top of all the others things he had to deal with right now.

Telling himself to stop being defensive, Jonah vowed to stand his ground. His plan was solid and he needed to concentrate on that. His personal reasons for being here weren’t part of the deal and his life wasn’t any of Alice Bryson’s business. He’d stick to the plan and be professional, show her this was a win-win situation and he’d get the job done.

And in the meantime, he’d hoped he’d be able to find out more about his real mother. Which left him wondering if he’d wind up being the one to regret this.