These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance (10 page)

            Patsy
gave Henry a wink. “I would tell you but then―”

            “She’d
have to kill me? Don’t worry. I’ll let you two keep your secrets.” He wrapped
his arm around Patsy. “There’s nothing like a childhood friend, right?”

            “Right,”
Patsy said brightly. She turned to Henry. “And to answer your question, my
aunt’s fiftieth birthday surprise party is this weekend so I thought we’d come
down a few days early and annoy you.”

            Henry
took a shaky breath. She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been since she moved
to Natchitoches. The friends she’d made in graduate school had all moved on and
although she thought she’d been fine with the changes in her life, her own
tears told a different tale. “Right,” she said. “Come on in and I’ll show you
around.”

            Half
an hour later, they were back in the foyer. Jack crawled around under the
furniture, and Clark followed him around, arms at the ready. “I think we need
this little guy to be our mascot.”

            “He
says he’ll take the position,” Patsy said, laughing. “This park has such an
amazing history. Tomorrow, if you have time, we’d like to see some of the other
buildings.”

            “Of
course,” Henry said, pride filling her chest. Her grandparents hadn’t come out
to Oakland yet. Kimberly hadn’t even mentioned her job. Lisette hadn’t made it
to Natchitoches from Fayetteville, not even for lunch. “I’d love that. I can
give you some pamphlets to read over tonight, if you want. Then you can decide
what you’d like to see most.”

            “Great
idea,” Denny said. “I don’t know much about Cane River. I’ll study them tonight
and then Patsy won’t look like the only good Southerner.”

            Turning
to the large display, Henry started to select a few maps and folded flyers that
described the park. “I’ll just give you all one of each.”

            Clark
glanced through the front window. “We’ve got another visitor,” he said.

            “Busy
day,” Henry said, still plucking out papers. She heard the door open and
turned. “Welcome to Oakland Plantation. I’m―”

            A
man stood in the doorway, large enough to block the view to the driveway. He
had the same bright eyes, same careful expression as Gideon, but it wasn’t the Gideon
she remembered from last night.

            “What
happened to your… your…” She waved a hand around her face.

            “I
shaved my beard.” He reached up and rubbed a hand over his jaw. “You don’t like
it?”

           
Like
it.
 She didn’t know how exactly to answer the question. Of course she
liked it. He was a good-looking man, and now that she could see his whole face,
he was even more handsome. The sound of a throat clearing reminded her that she
had other guests.

            “This
is my friend Patsy Davidson and her husband, Denny. This is Gideon Becket. He’s
head of the Natchitoches parish archives,” she said. She could see the wariness
and resignation in Gideon’s eyes as he greeted them. He carried his past like a
shield.

            Jack
crawled out from under the desk and onto Henry’s toes. She reached down and
picked him up. “And Jack,” she said. “Our new mascot.”

            Gideon
looked startled for a moment, then said, “Upgrading? The archives will have to
get a mascot now, too,” he said. He pretended to give her a severe look, lips
pressed together, deep indents appearing on either side of his mouth.

            “Oh,”
she said almost to herself. “You have dimples.”

            Gideon
nodded. “My mom called them my super power. She’d say, ‘go tell old Mrs. Lumbrowski
that her dogs are barking too much. And make sure to show your dimples.’ It
seemed to work, too.”

            She
laughed a little. “Smart woman.”

            “We
were just discussing super powers,” Denny said. “Patsy is taunting me with some
secret knowledge of Henry’s super power but she won’t tell me what it is.”

             “She’s
a clever gal. She gets a lot done around here and keeps all the staff happy. I
wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got a cape somewhere,” Clark said.

            Gideon
cocked his head. “Diplomacy?”

            “Nope,”
Patsy said.

            “Nobody
wants to play this game,” Henry said. She set little Jack on one hip and rocked
gently from side to side.

            “Wait,
I bet I can guess,” Gideon said, holding up a finger. “Leadership? Organizational
skills? Meticulousness?”

            “No,
nothing so general,” Patsy said.

            “I
can probably figure it out,” Denny said. “She’s loyal, good natured,
unflappable.”

            “Still
too general,” Patsy said.

            Henry
motioned toward the hallway. “Does anyone want coffee? Let me make a fresh―”

            Clark
interrupted, “Kindness. She’s real kind. And thoughtful. That’s sure a rare
trait nowadays.”

            “More
specific,” Patsy said. “Or is it more general? Now I’m confusing myself.”

             “She’s
a gentle sort of person. That’s rare, too,” Gideon said.

            Henry
felt her mouth drop open a bit. She’d never considered herself a gentle sort. She
looked down into Jack’s eyes and he gave her a toothless grin.

            “Gracious.
Helpful. Empathetic,” Denny said.

            “Now
you’re just making stuff up,” Henry said.

            “Elegant,”
Clark said. “A lot of women think they can just put on some pretty clothes and
be elegant, but it’s really something from inside.”

            “I
agree,” Patsy said, nodding.

            “Y’all
realize I’m standing right here,” Henry said, wondering if her face was as red
as it felt.

            “Intuitive.
Insightful,” Gideon said.

            “Now
we’re getting somewhere,” Patsy said, holding up a hand.

             “Interesting,”
Gideon said. “So, it’s something that helps her understand people.” She could
almost see him remembering their conversation in that basement lit by
lamplight, where they confessed their fears like children hiding under a
blanket.

            “Why
are you here, Gideon?” she blurted.

            There
was an awkward silence and then he reached into his pocket. “I made you a copy
of my key.” He held it out and she took it from him, their fingers barely
touching. Jack made a grab for it but she put it in her pocket, kissing the
baby’s head.

            “Oh,
good. I need to run by. I couldn’t find my keys this morning. It’s not a big
deal because I have a spare for my car and Charlie gave me a spare back door
key when I saw her when I left for work.”

            He
frowned. “I didn’t see anything last night.”

            “Well,
it was late and we were tired.” She shrugged. “I only noticed after you walked
me home.”

            “His
key? Walked you home?” Patsy looked from one to the other.
            “It’s just an―” She started to speak at the same time as he
did.

            “We’re
working―”

            “―
archiving project.”

            “―
on some papers.”

            Henry
smoothed a hand over her hair. “Sorry. Anyway, I’ll go by later and see if
they’re there.”

            “Let
me go. That door is a bear to open and I’m headed home anyway,” Gideon said.

            “Don’t
you live out by Lac Terre Noire?” Clark asked.

            “Sure
do. But it’s no trouble at all.” He looked at his watch. “If I find them, I can
drop them by this evening.”

            “Sure,
that sounds fine.” She suddenly remembered Blue Chalfant. “Oh, wait, I’ll be
gone around seven, but any time before that is fine.”

            “Where
are you going?” Patsy asked. “I was hoping we could have dinner.”

            “I…
I have a date, actually.”

            “A
date? You never date. You hate dating. When did you start dating?” Patsy was
giving her a look of total confusion.

            “I
just met him. This morning. We’re going to have ribs at The Red Hen.”  It
sounded like she was on the hunt for a man. She bit her lip and focused on
brushing back Jack’s wispy hair, hoping everyone would refocus on something
else.

            “I’ll
leave them at the desk in By the Book,” Gideon said and he was gone.

            Henry
shifted Jack to her other hip and turned back to the pamphlets. For some reason
her stomach was twisting in on itself.  She could practically feel Denny and
Patsy exchanging pointed looks. Well, it wasn’t what they thought. Gideon had
asked her to be part of his project and she was thrilled to have her name
attached to it in any way. If she had to endure some pointed looks or teasing,
that was fine. She’d gone through worse in graduate school. She was determined
to make a name for herself, to be one of the top Southern history experts, and
no amount of whispering or nudging of elbows would deter her from it.

“The truth." Dumbledore
sighed.

"It is a beautiful and
terrible thing,

and should therefore be treated
with great caution.”

― J.K. Rowling

            Gideon
turned the knob of the basement door and nothing happened. He took a step back
and threw his shoulder against the thick oak panel. It opened with the screech
of wood-on-wood and he stepped into the dark basement. Walking from the bright
sunshine into the cool, damp room was usually a relief but today it felt
claustrophobic.

            Grabbing
a lantern, he quickly lit the wick and replaced the glass. He searched around
the chair, sweeping a hand around the dirty floor. Henry had left the top of
the table clear, with only two pens placed side by side, perfectly straight. He
held up the lamp, looking around the room, trying to remember where she’d stood
and what she’d touched, but all he could see was her a few minutes ago.

            There
was a tightness in his chest. It was absurd. He wasn’t the jealous type. In
fact, he wasn’t the type to care much at all, for anyone. His reaction to
Henry’s date was completely out of line. Add in the way she carried that baby,
and there was reason for him to care at all what she did in her off hours. They
were opposites, clearly wanting different things out of life.

            He
paced the length of the basement, searching the floor for any glimmer of metal.
A few weeks ago, he’d thought he needed some more time on the river. But he
hadn’t followed through and here he was, dealing with the fall out. He wasn’t
as good at understanding human behavior as Tom was, but he knew when he was
losing his grip. As soon as he got back to his office, he’d call Tom or Bix and
make sure they got out on the river. Or he’d go alone. He needed to get out of
his routine, force himself to stop thinking, at least for a day.

            A
few minutes later, he’d covered the whole basement. She must have left them in
her apartment. It was probably nothing. Natchitoches was one of the safest
cities in the state. There was really no reason to suspect anything other than
misplaced keys by someone who was probably still unpacking and getting
organized.

            He
locked the door behind him and took the basement stairs two at a time to the
sidewalk. He’d stop in at By the Book and let Charlie know he hadn’t found
anything. A part of Gideon knew that a simple phone call would be faster, but
for some reason he really didn’t want to talk to Henry at that moment.

            The
historic district was bustling with tourists in town for the Zydeco Festival
that weekend and the sight of the little families gave him a little twinge of
sadness. He focused his gaze above their faces, somewhere up near the horizon.

            “Gideon!”

            Tom
waved from halfway down the block, a stack of books under one arm and trotted
to catch up. “I went by your office but they said you left for the― Whoa.”
He stopped short and a middle aged couple let out matching squawks of
impatience and side-stepped him, tossing irritated looks as they went on their
way.

            “You...
your…” Tom’s eyes were wide, he seemed too stunned to speak.

            He
rubbed a hand over his face. “It was time for a change.”

            Tom
nodded. “I just… haven’t seen you without it since we were kids.”

            Gideon
looked out toward the river, knowing what Tom wasn’t saying. By the time Gideon
had agreed to let Tom come visit, he’d grown into a man.

            “So
are you headed home? I have to drop these off at the basilica and then we can grab
a bite at The Red Hen.”

            “Sure.
But not The Red Hen. Let’s try someplace new.”

            Tom’s
eyes narrowed. “Is your newfound need for change going to affect my ability to
get some ribs? I may have to lodge a complaint.”

            “No.
I just felt like―”

            “A
change. I got it.” Tom fixed him with a look. Gideon was several inches taller
and about forty pounds heavier, but at that moment, he felt small. But he
couldn’t explain. He didn’t completely understand it himself.

             “Listen,
it’s not a big deal. We can eat there if you want.” Gideon started back down
the sidewalk.

            Tom
fell into step beside him but it was several minutes before conversation
returned. Gideon felt the weight of his refusal to explain, but he really
didn’t want to get into another discussion about Henry. 

            But
it was as if Tom knew just what sore spot to prod. “How did it go last night?”

            Gideon
didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t know what Tom meant. “Good. She was worried
about the sticky door so I stayed.”

            “Stayed?
You worked together?”

            He
sighed. “Yes, Tom, every now and then I act like a regular human being and
carry on a conversation, while looking pleasant and not acting on my urge to
live as complete hermit.”

            “Hey,
no offense. You both just made such a big deal out of working separately,” Tom
said. “But you won’t be doing that again, right? She’s got her key and here you
are working on the papers in the middle of the day. End of the regular human
being act. Won’t happen again.”

            “You’re
trying to irritate me and it’s not working.”

            “Am
I?” His tone was carefully innocent but Gideon could hear the laughter
underneath. “So what are you doing downtown?”

            “When
I dropped off a copy of the key today―”

            “Where?
Oakland Plantation?”

            “Right.
I was running some errands and thought it would be easiest to bring it by.”

            Tom
made a noise in the back of his throat and Gideon ignored him.

            “She
said she lost her keys and I offered to come back here and look. I didn’t find
them and now I’ll stop in at By the Book and let Charlie or Bix or someone
know. There, now you have the entire story. Happy?”

            “Very.”

            “I’m
starting to think you’re obsessed with her. She’s all you ever ask about
anymore.” Gideon was hoping to shame Tom into giving up his nosy questions but
the man was impervious.

            “You
have to admit she’s the most interesting thing to happen around here since
Alice Augustine sued Paul Olivier to keep him out of the Historic District.”
Tom paused, a sly tone creeping into his voice. “And I called that one way
before they decided to stop publically hating each other.”

            “You
did, that’s true. You and Bix and half of Natchitoches. Maybe I would have,
too, if I’d wanted to stick my nose into someone else’s love life.”  Tom loved
the happy stories, the engagements and weddings and babies. He lived in
constant anticipation of some impending celebration. Gideon existed in a
constant state of conviction that nothing was forever and most of those people
would rue the day they ever joined themselves to another human being.

            “Can
we please talk about something else? Anything else. How’s the Zydeco Festival
Committee? Anybody threaten to report you to the bishop yet? Usually things get
pretty tense this close to the festival.”

            “Surprisingly,
nobody has. Last year was a little crazier when two of the bands canceled but
this year has been smoother than smooth. Except for Frank Pascal, actually.
That man could pick a fight with a fencepost.”

            Gideon
had decided to ignore the comment about Henry’s grandfather, but as they turned
a corner, there Henry was, walking toward them, only a few feet away. He was
doomed to be thrown into her path over and over. Her hair was coming loose from
her ponytail and she was carrying a large paper bag in each arm. Her glasses
were sliding down her nose and she nudged them up with her shoulder. She clearly
hadn’t changed for her date yet, since she was still wearing the bright red
dress from earlier that day. As they got closer, he could see a little frown
line between her brows and she looked overwhelmed, worried.

            “Did
you hear me?”

            “What?”
Gideon said.

            “I
said there’s Henry and she looks like she needs a hand.” Tom was already moving
to intercept her and Gideon followed, wishing he could find some reason to go
the other direction. He hoped she wasn’t going to talk about her date, and then
he was ashamed of himself. Henry was the same person he’d passed an evening
with yesterday, sorting old letters and documents. He’d enjoyed everything
she’d had to say then. Nothing had changed.

            Tom
took a paper bag in one arm and was already waving off Henry’s protests.

            “But
now you’re carrying books and a bag of groceries while I only have one bag,”
she said, laughing.

            “Well,
then give Gideon the other bag,” Tom said.

            “No
way,” she said, shaking her head when Gideon reached for it. “I’d have none and
feel twice as indebted. I’d rather Gideon felt lazy and unhelpful.”

            He
had to smile at her teasing, since that was very close to what he was feeling
at that moment.

            “And
weren’t you two going the other direction? You don’t have to turn around just
for me,” she said.

            “It’s
really not a problem,” Gideon said.

            “Especially
since he’s not carrying anything,” Tom said.

             “Did
you get a chance to check the basement? If not, it’s not a problem. I’ll go
over there right after I drop these off.”

            “I
looked but I didn’t see anything. Could they be in your apartment?”

            She
shook her head. “I looked everywhere this morning and last night. I just hate
to call Alice and tell her we need to change the locks. I must be her worst
tenant ever.”

            Tom
chuckled. “I’m pretty sure Paul has you beat there. But don’t be afraid to call
her. As long as you didn’t destroy anything, she’ll likely be very
understanding about it.”
 
He shifted the books under his arm
and waved off Gideon’s attempt to take them from him.

            “I’m
not that type of person. Forgetful, irresponsible.”  The tight line of her
mouth underlined her words.

            “I
think it’s better if you call her sooner, rather than later,” Gideon said.

            She
nodded glumly as they turned the corner onto the busy river walk.

            “We’ll
see you out on the dance floor this weekend, I hope,” Tom said. “Your
grandfather takes his role on the planning committee very seriously.”

            “Of
course,” Henry said, but she didn’t have the look of a woman who was looking
forward to a dance. Gideon wondered if Henry didn’t enjoy dancing, or if she
was worried about Kimberly Gray making an appearance.

            A
large man stepped directly into her path and Gideon tensed, almost jumping
between them. He’d been so intent on her expression he hadn’t seen Barney
Sandoz on the sidewalk.         “Miss Byrne.” Sandoz’s button up shirt was
stained with sweat at the armpits.

            “How
do you do?” Henry nodded to him and Gideon noted the faintest flicker of
distaste in her expression.

            “Honey,
you never called me about those excavation projects you have goin’ on,” he
said. He crossed his arms over his chest, not bothering to greet Tom or Gideon.

            “And
why would she do that?” Gideon asked.

            Sandoz
turned slowly in his direction. “Sure, she could call any ol’ historian but
she’d best be calling me because she needs someone trustworthy.” He enunciated
the word as if Gideon were hard of hearing.

            “Hey,
now,” Tom said, shifting his feet. Gideon glanced at him. Did he think they
were going to have a fistfight over Henry?

            “Miss
Byrne, you should be a mite more careful of the company you keep,” Sandoz said,
not breaking eye contact with Gideon. “People in this lil ol’ town will talk.
You’re playin’ a dangerous game, even if you’re out in public and being
chaperoned by a man in a dog collar.”

            Gideon
could hardly hear over the blood rushing in his ears. Bringing up Gideon’s past
was fine, but Sandoz was treading on thin ice when he brought Tom into it.

            “Thank
you for your advice, Mr. Sandoz,” Henry said and walked away. She didn’t look
back to see if Gideon or Tom were following her.

            Sandoz
opened his mouth as if to call after her and then seemed to change his mind.
His face went dark and he shook his finger inches from Gideon’s nose. “Don’t
think I don’t know what you’re up to. I know what you’ve done and who you are.
You can’t fool me. I know the truth.”

            Gideon
felt his insides turn cold. Once upon a time he’d thought he’d known the truth,
and he was still dealing with the fall out from his choices then. “What are you
talking about? What truth?”