Gift of Wonder

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.

Chapter Four

The Bayou Belle Café was buzzing with the lunch crowd. The curious lunch crowd.

“We probably should have stayed at the magazine office and ordered in,” Alice said on a winded whisper as she settled into the booth with Jonah. “People are staring.”

“Maybe they’re shocked to see you with me.”

Alice shot him with a lengthy look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His expression went from smiling to red-faced. “I mean, maybe they’ve heard already that you don’t like me.”

Now it was her turn to be embarrassed. “I never said I didn’t like you. I said I don’t trust you.”

“Same difference.”

“No, I like you just fine so far. I just don’t know how I feel about this elaborate plan you have for my town.”

“I’ll show you my plans after we eat. I’m starving.”

She looked him over. “You seem healthy enough. Looks like you get enough to eat, at least.”

“Is that required in men you don’t trust?”

His grin saved her from hitting him with a scathing retort. “Okay, I guess I’ve been a little antisocial with you. And you’re probably right about folks—they’d be shocked to see me with any new man in town. I’m a jilted bride.”

He tried to look surprised, but his expression didn’t quite make it in time to rescue the traces of sympathy and concern in his eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Even his comment was lame and pathetic. Or maybe she was the pathetic one.

Alice shook her head. “And don’t even tell me you had no idea. I love Jimmy and Paulette like family but they sure love to gossip.”

“They just like to make small talk with their customers.”

“Yeah, lots of small talk about big things—such as me standing in a white dress in my backyard, watching the man I thought I was going to marry driving away. He got the impression I was gonna call the police on him.”

“Why didn’t you—I mean, if he did the things I’ve heard he did?”

“I didn’t tell him, but I’d already reported him to the local authorities minutes before we were supposed to get married,” Alice replied, memories moving through her mind with the crackling intensity of those falling leaves outside the big window.

Somehow, Jonah knowing all the intimate details of her sad life didn’t bother her as much as she would have thought. Had she become that numb to feeling things, or was she just glad someone else had spared her the humiliation of telling him herself?

“I told Ned the wedding was off and if he didn’t get out of town, I’d call the sheriff. My brother-in-law, Jay, backed me up on that and then we watched him leave. But Ned was long gone by the time the sheriff got out to our house and we haven’t seen hide or hair of him since. But he’ll mess up one day. He’s a wanted man now and justice will prevail.”

“I sure hope so.” Jonah smiled up at the waitress. “I’ll have the Jimmy burger with all the works. And for the lady—?” He glanced over at Alice. “What would you like?”

Alice greeted the waitress then said, “I’ll have the Cobb salad and iced tea.”

He waited until they were alone again. “I really am sorry about what happened to you. But I’m not a con artist. I came here with a whole different set of goals than those of your runaway groom. Will you hear me out?”

Alice watched his face, wondering if her scam-radar was working correctly. The man seemed genuinely passionate about his work. And the way his eyes had grazed over her just now with such a hungry eagerness made her think she might have misjudged him.

“I’m willing to withhold judgment so I can get the best story,” she finally said. “I’ll be objective in the article, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with you.”

“Fair enough.” Jonah unrolled the subdivision plans. “This is the first phase.”

She shifted on her seat. “You intend to have more than one phase in this thing?”

He nodded. “If all goes as planned, sure.” His gray eyes widened. “There’s a lot of land for sale around here. The families who left here after the hurricane aren’t going to come back when they don’t have anything to come back to. But I hope to market this as a good retirement place, near New Orleans and within easy access to all the major interstates. Small-town living near the big city.”

“What if the neighbors who lived around the bend do want to come back? Several houses were either blown completely away or torn down. Do they have a choice?”

“They have that choice. I’m only buying when lots are available and when I can buy land in volume.”

“You mean you’re not coercing people to sell?”

“No. I don’t operate that way.”

She wondered about that, but she had to stay objective. “Okay, since I’m going to be neutral with this story, I’ll just pretend that I believe you, for now.”

He leaned across the table then flipped the plans around. “Let me explain this and then you can take it back to the office and study it. I’ve got several sets so take your time. I’d like your opinion—and not just for a good story. I’d really like to know what you think.”

That surprised her. Was he trying to flatter her to win points or did the man honestly want the truth? “My opinion? Why?”

“Don’t look so doubtful. You live here and it’s obvious you care what happens to the bayou. I need someone to tell me if I’m on the right track—the style of the cottages, the size of the lots, what kind of trees and landscaping to plant. That sort of thing. I want this to be as natural and pretty as possible while still being environmentally sound. The homes will be energy efficient but comfortable. I want each one to be unique—not just cooker-cutter type houses.”

Alice glanced over the graphs and charts and construction plans. “It was pretty and natural and unique before the storms came. I’d sure like to see that again.” She tapped a finger on the papers. “And even though I kind of denied it the other day, I’d like to have neighbors again, people I can get to know and socialize with. We used to have crawfish boils on the bayou, Christmas festivals right here on this main street with a big bonfire on the bayou, and we always celebrated Memorial Day and the Fourth of July with a lot of parties and get-togethers, and lots of fireworks.” She glanced out the window. “Sometimes, it seems like a ghost town out there. We’ve tried to bring all of that back, but I don’t think people have the heart for it the way they did before.”

She shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, those of us who were born and raised here feel strongly about this place and we celebrate, regardless of the past. But…something is missing. It’s like our heart is broken.” And she should know. Her heart was broken. Broken by lost dreams and empty promises, broken from grief and a hopeless feeling that ached inside her soul.

“I want to change that,” he said, his fingers brushing against her hand as he started rolling the papers back together. “And I need your help to do that.” He tapped one of the house plans. “I’m going to start by building a model cottage right away so I just want to warn you about that. I haven’t quite finished the plans for that one, but I hope to get some inspiration while I’m here.”

Alice took a sip of her tea. “Maybe I’ll get some inspiration, too. I need to be more positive about rebuilding this community.”

He lifted his chin in agreement. “I understand. If things don’t go well, I’ll sell the model and move on. But…I’m hoping people will respond and we’ll be selling lots of land and houses in the coming months. And after that, new business should crop up to support the new citizens moving to this area.”

Alice still didn’t trust him, but he looked earnest enough sitting there with that determined, almost dreamy expression on his handsome face. But that didn’t mean she was ready to give him a full-fledged endorsement. “I’ll help by giving everyone my honest observations in the article, stating both the pros and cons of this venture. That’s all I can offer for now. Take it or leave it,” Alice added with a shrug as their food arrived.

“I’ll take it,” he replied, his eyes crinkling enough to give her a good view of the crow’s-feet etched around them. Had he gotten those crow’s-feet from laughing or from life in general? And why did that make him so endearing to her?

“Just don’t make me regret this.”

“Never.”

When she looked up at him, he’d gone all serious, his eyes a dark, churning gray now, and full of such a sweet sincerity she almost regretted being so gruff and mean to him. He did seem a likable person and he wasn’t bad to look at—all suntanned and rugged and boyish.

Almost. She almost regretted not trusting him. But almost didn’t make things right. She’d almost been married. Her parents had almost made it home. And almost regretting things didn’t make life any better.

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