Bayou Sweetheart

Love In Bloom

For landscaper Callie Moreau, working in the gardens of Fleur House is a dream come true. Then she meets the owner, a mysterious millionaire with rumors following him wherever he goes. Callie finds herself drawn to Tomas Delacorte in spite of the darkness in his eyes. And Tomas can’t resist the joy that Callie brings to his days. He could be the man Callie’s always prayed for. But when Tomas’s secrets come to light, and the people she’s known all her life are threatened, Callie must decide if she can stand by the man who’s stealing her heart.

She took off her gardening gloves and walked over to Tomas. “So you fight your own battles, right?”

She saw the resigned expression shuttering his eyes and felt that strange tugging inside her heart again. His eyes caught hers, and Callie saw a barrage of emotions passing through him like a blast of smoke on the horizon. “That’s what I do, yes.” He stepped closer, his dark hair shimmering as it ruffled his neck. “But…I want you to please trust me, Callie. No matter what, can you do that?”

She wanted to laugh at that suggestion. She didn’t trust easily, not since her husband had left her, in the middle of a health crisis. Not since she’d decided to live her life free and clear and without any regrets. She trusted in the Lord. That was her kind of trust.

“Sorry, I’m not so good at trusting these days.”

This time, she was the one to walk away.

LENORA WORTH

has written more than forty books for three different publishers. Her career with Love Inspired Books spans close to fifteen years. In February 2011 her Love Inspired Suspense novel Body of Evidence made the New York Times bestseller list. Her very first Love Inspired title, The Wedding Quilt, won Affaire de Coeur’s Best Inspirational for 1997, and Logan’s Child won an RT Book Reviews Best Love Inspired for 1998. With millions of books in print, Lenora continues to write for the Love Inspired and Love Inspired Suspense lines. Lenora also wrote a weekly opinion column for the local paper and worked freelance for years with a local magazine. She has now turned to full-time fiction writing and enjoying adventures with her retired husband, Don. Married for thirty-six years, they have two grown children. Lenora enjoys writing, reading and shopping…especially shoe shopping.

Bayou Sweetheart

Lenora Worth

He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass: as showers that water the earth.

—Psalms 72:6

To Margie Clarkston and her sweet son Dennis. Thank you for reading my books!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

A woman danced in the rain in his garden.

Tomas Delacorte stared out the big upstairs window of Fleur House, oblivious to the coming storm. Instead, he watched the graceful woman as she lifted her face to the clouds and laughed, her long ponytail trailing around her shoulder like a flower vine, her hands out, palms up, as if she were saying a prayer. Her colorful tiered skirt was as bright as the various containers of flowers surrounding her. She had kicked off her sandals and now danced with barefoot abandon in the freshly mowed grass that sloped down to the bayou.

This must be Callie Moreau. The landscape lady.

He inhaled a deep breath. A sensation passed through his chest like a fresh wind and stirred up the dust inside his heart, causing it to beat a little faster. Causing it to warm and open and absorb. The change almost hurt—the pain of wanting was overwhelming.

She danced. And he fell in love.

He wanted to go out there and dance with her.

He wanted to be that joyous, that happy...just once in his life. But for him, that would be impossible. For him, love didn’t work. Just a silly reaction to an unusual sight.

A clap of thunder brought him out of his daydream.

The woman stopped dancing and gazed up at the sky.

Then she turned and looked at the window where he stood.

And into Tomas’s eyes.

* * *

Callie dropped her head and hurried to the long covered terrace at the back of the huge mansion, her wet clothes and hair making her shiver. Digging into the big tote bag she’d left on the porch, she found her phone and dialed her sister Alma’s number.

“He saw me,” she said when Alma answered. She had to catch her breath. She’d hurried too fast.

“Who saw you?”

Callie heard the blur of voices echoing over the line along with the sound of a cash register dinging another dollar. Alma was at the Fleur Café, as usual. And it was lunchtime.

“The man. The owner. Tomas Delacorte.”

“So you saw him? What does he look like?”

“I only got a glimpse before he disappeared. But...tall, dark, handsome. And dark, intense eyes. Visions of Heathcliff with a little bit of Mr. Darcy thrown in.”

“Heathcliff? As in Wuthering Heights? That Heathcliff?”

“Yes. That Heathcliff. I think he’s bitter and lonely. He must have loved someone and lost them. Brooding. Yes, definitely brooding.”

Alma giggled. “Oh, so you know this from a brief glimpse? Tell me more.”

She could picture Alma sinking down on a bar stool, her grin reflecting in the aged mirror that ran the length of the counter. “Yes. I was in the garden and it started raining and...I looked up and there he was, staring at me as if he’d just walked out of the pages of a historical romance novel.”

“Were you doing the rain dance thing?”

Callie twirled her wet ponytail. “Uh, maybe. Is that bad?”

“No, no. Not bad at all. I’m sure he enjoyed watching you do that silly dance.”

“He was watching. I mean, I felt him watching. I saw him at the window.” Callie went into panic mode. “What if he fires me?”

Alma laughed. “For dancing in the rain? That’s not grounds for firing someone.”

“But...I wasn’t actually doing my job.”

“You can’t dig dirt in the rain.”

“Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding might think differently.”

Callie turned at the sound of footsteps and saw the very man she’d been talking about standing there staring at her. Again. “Uh, gotta go.”

She put away her phone and wiped a hand across her wet hair. “Hello. I’m Callie.”

“And apparently I’m Mr.—what was that?—Tall, Dark and Brooding.”

Callie’s wet skin chilled with a hot blush. She couldn’t speak. So she just stood there.

He stepped closer, giving her the full view. Nice, expensive suit, dark sleek hair that curled over his collar in a rebel way. The bluest of blue eyes with dark brows that slashed across his forehead in a perpetual brooding way. Midnight eyes would be cliché. Ocean maybe, but only the deepest, bluest of oceans. Disturbing blue. Yes, disturbing ocean-blue eyes.

Disturbing blue brooding eyes that stayed on her like a spyglass searching for interlopers. Glinting. He was definitely a glinter.

Callie’s blush crept like kudzu over her and through her. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m the landscaper. I mean, I’m here to work in the garden, to...redo your yard. Nick Santiago hired me.”

“I know who you are,” he replied, his voice as rough as aged cypress bark. “I saw you out the window.” He kept staring. “And I’m pretty sure you know who I am—my real name I mean.”

“You’re Tomas Delacorte. Nice to finally meet you.”

He nodded but didn’t return the acknowledgment. “You’re wet.”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, wishing she could turn into rain and just wash away. “I was—”

He put his hands in the pockets of his trousers and frowned. “Dancing. In the rain.”

She didn’t have anywhere to put her hands. “Uh, yes. It’s kind of a thing I have....”

The rain turned into a full-blown storm with lashing sheets of water and wind that made her shiver. Callie put her arms against her midsection to ward off the chill from her wet shirt. Maybe these goose bumps weren’t from being wet. Maybe this was because of him. He glinted at her without moving.

She turned. “I should just go.”

He lifted one hand and motioned her toward him. “Come inside out of the rain.”

Not used to being ordered, good looks aside, Callie formed her own frown. “I need to get back to town.”

“Not in this storm. Come inside. I insist.”

When she stood there, frozen and wondering how to get away, he walked a step closer. “Please. I promise I won’t lock you in the dungeon.”

“You have a dungeon?”

He laughed—almost. And she fell in love. Almost.

Oh, what a beautiful, chiseled face he had. She imagined what it must look like when he truly laughed. What a lovely smile he’d have. Callie decided he probably didn’t smile very often. The glint in his eyes changed to a sparkle for just a brief second. So she took this as a rare gift and enjoyed it.

But...she couldn’t be in love with him. She’d keep this instant crush to herself. It was the shock of finally meeting him after weeks of speculations, after weeks of her vivid imagination taking over her brain cells. Get over that, she told herself. You don’t know this man. You don’t even need to know this man. You are content with your life, and you have Elvis.

Elvis, her big mutt of a dog, would probably scare this straight-out-of-a-menswear-magazine man right out of Fleur. Maybe not scare, but annoy. This man looked like he could become annoyed very easily. And she, Callie Moreau, was known to be the annoying type—the friendly, always sunny, always positive type. So was her dog. Luckily, she’d left Elvis back at the nursery since she’d planned to come and do a quick inspection and then get back to town. She’d been so excited about finally being able to get her hands on the massive, overgrown garden that surrounded Fleur House.

This might not work out so well, after all.

He motioned to her again then pointed toward the big French doors. “We have a basement, but...I’ll have Margie and Eunice make you a cup of tea.” He frowned. “Isn’t that what women love—a good cup of hot tea?”

“This woman does.” She marched toward the open, waiting door. “And I’m starving. Do you have anything to eat?”

* * *

“I have a cook,” Tomas said, irritated that she had somehow invaded his private space, even more irritated that he’d let her do it by inviting her inside. “And a maid. I’m sure they can feed you something.”

“And they could both be on break and probably watching their favorite soap opera.” Callie shook her head and smiled that breathtaking smile. “I don’t need any help. I—we—don’t live like that around here, Lord Delacorte.”

The sting of that comment pricked his solid armor. He walked to the door off the kitchen and called out, “Margie? Eunice?” Then he pivoted back to Callie. “You don’t approve of me having a cook and a maid?”

“Not my business.” She pointed to the big, industrial stove. “This kitchen is amazing. Brenna told me it was lovely, but it goes beyond that. It’s so...beautiful. Not as fancy as I expected. A good working kitchen. Every woman’s dream.”

Tomas had to admit it was refreshing to find such a down-to-earth woman. A woman who brought this kitchen to life. But her iridescence was too bright. So he covered his awe with gruffness. “Do you want some tea or not?”

She gave him an exaggerated frown, then toughened her voice. “Yes, but I can make it myself.”

Was she mocking him?

The cook and her sister, the housekeeper, both bustled into the room. Hired help, but more like family, they looked at Callie, smiled, then turned to him. “Tomas, did you need something?”

Tomas held up his ringing cell phone but answered Margie before he took the call. “Tea and food, for our guest.”

“Hi,” Callie said, smiling. “I’m Callie and I can make my own tea. Iced or hot, either way is good.”

“Nonsense,” Eunice replied. The two women started chattering away as they went about serving Callie.

Tomas nodded to Margie and Eunice, then turned and left the room. But he couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the feminine introductions and laughter coming from the kitchen. Not used to the echo of such joy, he shut his office door with a bang.

He didn’t like the feelings this colorful, full-of-life woman evoked in him. He didn’t have time for such feelings. Used to controlling everything and everyone, Tomas got the impression he’d never control Callie Moreau. Besides, he had work to do. Taking over a major company was never easy. Soon he’d be the most hated man in town.

Callie Moreau would hate him, too. And that would be that.

A few minutes later, a knock at his door brought his head up. “Yes?”

The door slowly opened and Eunice stuck her head in. “I’ve brought lunch and...Callie wanted a word with you.”

Before Tomas could protest, Callie was in, holding a lunch tray, and Eunice was gone, the door shut.

Callie’s smile looked tentative, but he saw the hint of empathy in her pretty gray-blue eyes. “We had grilled ham and cheese. I brought one for you.”

“I don’t like grilled ham and cheese.”

“Really? I thought everyone loved grilled ham and cheese sandwiches on a rainy day. When was the last time you had one?”

He sat back, memories swirling around him like the mist hitting the big windows. “It’s been a long time.”

She set down the tray on the edge of his massive desk. “Then this is going to be a good day.”

He nodded, turned sarcastic. “In more ways than one, apparently.”

She blushed, fussed with his napkin and water glass. “I hope the weather lets up. I have a lot to do. I love the rain, of course. But I want to make your garden a stunner. I need dry earth and sunshine for that.”

Tomas prayed for rain all day, then changed his mind and prayed for sunshine. He didn’t want her to go, but he certainly didn’t want her stay. “You need to talk to me?”

She nodded.

He motioned to a chair.

After she’d settled her skirt and smoothed her hair, she gave him a direct glance, then produced some papers from the tote bag draped over her arm. “I wanted to show you the grid for the garden. Nick approved everything, but I’d feel better knowing you approve things, too. I’m not used to taking over someone’s garden without their input.”

He waved that notion away. “Nicholas sings your praises. I trust his judgment.”

She flipped her ponytail. “He has to sing my praises. He’s going to be my brother-in-law in two weeks.” Then she sat up in her chair. “You live here. I’d like your input.”

Tomas stared at the sandwich on his plate, the scent of buttered bread making his stomach growl. “If you insist.”

“I do. It’s how I do business, Mr. Delacorte.”

Interesting. Some bite behind all that bright.

“Tomas,” he replied. “Call me Tomas.”

“Well, Tomas, eat your lunch and then we’ll get to work.”

What a bossy woman.

“It’s still raining. Why don’t you call it a day?”

“I don’t melt in the rain,” Callie replied, a sweet shyness seeming to envelop her.

“No, I have no doubt there. I think you thrive in the rain. At least it looked that way to me earlier.”

“I didn’t know you were watching.”

“I didn’t know when I looked out the window I’d find you down there dancing in the rain.”

She pushed the plate toward him, determination taking over her chirpiness. “Eating will get rid of that bad mood.”

“Who said I’m in a bad mood?”

“So you’re like this all the time?”

Tomas thought about that. “Yes, pretty much.”

He was rewarded with what looked like a doubtful but challenging smile. Tomas bit into the thick French bread and tasted the rich white cheddar and the salty ham, the spicy-sweet mustard covered with a ripe tomato from the farmer’s market in town. Then he glanced over at Callie. “This is by far the best ham and cheese sandwich I’ve ever eaten.”

She giggled. “You need to get out more.”

“That’s probably true.”

If he had this woman to entice him, Tomas might become less of a recluse and more of a social human being.

But, he reminded himself, he had not come back to Fleur, Louisiana, to fling himself into a relationship. He’d come back here to prove something to all the people who’d once scorned him and condemned him. And prove it he would, without distraction.

He dropped the sandwich and pushed the plate away, his appetite gone.

What would the lovely Callie Moreau think when she found out the truth about him? When she found out who he really was?

He didn’t want that to happen yet. He could control how much she knew in the same way he controlled everything else in his life.

“Let’s get on with this,” he said in an abrupt tone. “I have a busy afternoon.”

She nodded, shuffled her folded papers and came around the desk. “Here’s the grid.”

Tomas sniffed the floral scent of her perfume while she expounded on everything from Japanese maples to cast-iron plants.

And he wondered why he even cared about the garden in the first place.

* * *

“So that’s how Alma’s gumbo got so famous.”

Callie grinned over at Margie and Eunice. She remembered seeing them at church when they’d come for the first time a few weeks ago, so she felt at ease with them. After lunch, Himself had gone off to take another important call, but the rain kept falling so she was now back in the kitchen. Would she ever get to dig in that garden?

“So what’s it like to work for such a scary person?” she asked, killing time with small talk.

“We like him,” Margie said. She shot a covert glance to the other end of the big house. “He pays well.”

“Okay, that’s good. He’s generous then?”

“Very,” Eunice chimed in. “But we’ve known Tomas for a long time now. That’s why we came to work here. He only asks that we keep things straight and clean. He doesn’t mind us taking breaks. And he told us we could take off anytime we had doctor’s appointments or things like that.” She shrugged. “We hardly know he’s around.”

“Good.” Callie twirled her hair, remembering her time with Tomas in his office. The man couldn’t wait to get rid of her. “So you’re telling me that Mr. Delacorte isn’t really that scary?”

Both women went very quiet. Callie wondered if they hadn’t heard her. “So?”

“Boo.”

She turned to find Tomas standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He’d managed to sneak up on her yet again and while she was talking about him, yet again. When had he managed to walk the whole house without her hearing?

“Oh, hi.” She sat still while Margie and Eunice jumped up and pretended to be doing busy stuff. “Is that rain still out there?” And when would she learn to keep her mouth shut?

“Did I scare you?” he asked, ignoring the rain question.

“No. I mean, yes.” It was time for her to go home.

He gave her the glint look. “Voices tend to echo through this house.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

After the other women beat a hasty exit, he leaned against the counter. “Do I...scare you?”

Callie couldn’t fudge the truth. She was known for her sugar-coated bluntness, after all. “Yes, you do. You’re different.”

“In what way?”

In a tingling, strange way that messes with my head.

She lifted her hand, indicating their surroundings, and thought of the first excuse that came to mind. “This house didn’t come cheap.”

Fleur House was a true treasure with its many porches and porticos, the arched windows and terraces and that garden, lush with possibilities. This man had bought it, commissioned Nick Santiago to renovate it and had managed to put a big intricate iron fence around it to keep everyone out.

But all of that added up to a lot of money.

“No, but how does that make me different?”

“Have you really taken a look at this town? We’re hurting. Between storms, oil spills and a bad economy, we’re barely hanging on. But you—you seem to have it all together. You get to live in a beautiful, historic home. You obviously have money since you poured a lot into renovating this place. And you’re paying me a hefty fee to spruce up the property. So yes, you’re different. You don’t have to worry about where your next paycheck will come from.”

He leaned close to her, his gaze heating her skin. “I am different, but not in the way you think.”

Callie took a breath and dug right in. “You want to explain that?”

“No,” he said. Then he glanced out the row of kitchen windows. “Oh, look, the rain’s stopped.”

Callie knew a dismissal when she heard one.

“My cue to leave,” she said. Grabbing her tote and her pride, she turned at the back door. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Hopefully, the ground will be dry by then. I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

“I’d appreciate that—you coming back to finish the job and you staying out of my way.” He nodded, glinted and then turned and walked out of the room.

Chapter Two

“So you will be at the wedding?”

Tomas walked with Brenna and Nick to their car. They’d come by to take one last look at the house that they’d both helped renovate. Tomas always enjoyed meetings that involved Brenna. She knew her art, and she had fallen in love with his right-hand man, Nicholas Santiago.

He stared at Brenna now. She was different from her sisters. All auburn and fire, lots of emotion and drama. Alma was maternal and earthy, with golden-brown hair and flashing eyes.

And Callie. She was earth, wind and fire, water and sunshine. The total package. Sunlight-golden hair and gray-blue eyes. He hadn’t seen her since they’d met the other day, but he’d seen traces of her work in the garden. Would she only come around when he wasn’t here?

“Earth to Tomas?” Brenna grinned over at him. “I think we lost you there for a minute. Did you think of something else we need to do for you? For the house?”

“No.” Tomas kept smiling. “The wedding? Yes, I plan to be there. Wouldn’t miss it.” Dreaded it with all his heart, but...he’d promised Nick.

Brenna let out a little squeal. “Good. You know, everyone in town is dying to meet the mysterious man who bought Fleur House. You’re a hot topic around here.”

Nick shook his head. “Anybody new here is a hot topic. Don’t let her tease you.”

Tomas enjoyed the way they glanced at each other. So in love. He thought of Callie, dancing in the rain. Remembered he didn’t want her dancing in his garden. Remembered her laughing in his kitchen. Remembered that he didn’t want her laughing in his kitchen. Or in his garden, for that matter.

“We’ve lost him again,” Brenna said, opening the trunk of her car to put away some folders. “Tomas, please don’t disappoint me. I want you to be at my wedding. I owe you a lot, you know. If you hadn’t bought this house, I wouldn’t have met Nick.”

“That’s true, sí,” Nick said, nodding his agreement. “Say yes, so she’ll quit pestering you.”