Along the Cane River: Books 1-5 in the Inspirational Cane River Romance Series

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  Alice treasured their weekend girl time, with no interruptions from Bix and his unintentionally embarrassing remarks. They would sort inventory, or pore over catalogues, chatting like only two book-lovers could. Charlie would try to convince Alice to read something with a dragon or a broadsword on the cover, while Alice would try to convince Charlie to read something else, anything else. When they closed, Alice treated Charlie to dinner at Babet’s Diner. Charlie reminded Alice so much of herself at that age. Charlie’s family was happy and intact, but something about Charlie’s teenage worries reminded Alice of the girl she’d been, raised by a mamere in a house full of older brothers. Sometimes, a girl needed to talk to someone who wasn’t related, and Alice was happy to be that person. Not that she had a lot of life experience, but she tried her best.

  “Miss Alice,” Charlie said, already talking as she came through the door. “I won’t be helping you today. Or any other day. I can’t believe you kept ScreenStop from opening.” She was panting with anger.

  Alice stood up, struggling to switch between the idea of a normal Saturday in the store with Charlie, and the angry girl who stood before her. “Okay, come sit down and let’s talk. Let me explain why I―”

  “No!” Charlie crossed her arms over her chest. “I always thought you were cool, bein’ a girl and havin’ your own store. But that’s not really important, is it? It’s about how we treat each other.”

  “But I had a reason for the lawsuit. It’s not what you―”

  “You can’t explain it. Not in any way that changes what you did. I just can’t believe you’d do this to Paul, especially after how he offered that grand prize for the scavenger hunt. You just don’t get it and you never will.” Charlie turned back toward the door, blond hair flying out behind her.

  Alice stood there, shock coursing through her. She reached for her necklace, and realized for the hundredth time that her parents’ rings weren’t there. Their loss made every situation worse, like a second wave of pain.

  Paul had won over everyone in town in just a few weeks. He’d given Bix an e-reader and suddenly Bix was on Paul’s side. Charlie had been sucked into the promise of a party with some kind of big prize. She tried to think clearly, but anger spiked inside. Paul thought he could buy off the world. Maybe that’s why he’d bought the Arthur Rackham portfolio the very first day. For just one horrible moment she wondered if his interest in her was part of a plan, if his kisses had an ulterior motive. She brushed the thought away. Paul would have to be a sociopath to appear so generous and noble, but be so scheming in real life.

  The little bell on the door jingled and Mrs. Olivier walked through. She carried a large leather tote and was dressed in a pale-blue linen pantsuit. Alice stood up, but didn’t speak, feeling like a frog on the highway in the headlights of an oncoming truck. Last night, Mrs. Olivier had been polite, if a bit blunt. This morning might be a completely different matter.

  “Mornin’ Alice,” she said.

  Alice nodded. She adjusted the front of her blouse and smoothed her skirt over her hips.

  “You look lovely. Are you going out?” Mrs. Olivier might have just been asking an innocent question but Alice was almost positive she suspected Alice had a lunch date lined up.

  “No, I just thought it was…” She looked down.

  “Pretty? But you always look pretty.” Mrs. Olivier smiled. “Now, I’m sure you know why I’m here. You hear that?”

  Alice shook her head.

  “It’s the perfect silence of a building not being constructed.”

  “Oh, yes. The petition.” She felt her cheeks go warm. She never should have gone over to dinner. Now it felt as if she were repaying their hospitality with a stab in the back.

  Mrs. Olivier reached out and took her hand. “Alice, dear, I understand you love this neighborhood, but so does Paul. He would never hurt it in any way.”

  “It just doesn’t fit here, Mrs. Olivier. I’m sorry.” Alice straightened her spine. Paul couldn’t love this place as much as she did.

  Mrs. Olivier took her hand back. “He’s heard that a lot in his life, you know. That he doesn’t fit somewhere. He doesn’t belong. I think that was his plan, in the beginning, to come back and prove that he really did belong.”

  Alice wanted to clarify that she’d said the store didn’t fit, but really, Paul and his store were linked. She tried to imagine Paul being denied entry anywhere, and she couldn’t. To her, he seemed to own the world. “I can imagine it was a shock to learn he couldn’t just smile his way into this historic district. Well, he did for a while. But there is a reason we have these laws. A store like his doesn’t fit here.”

  “I want to be honest with you.” Mrs. Olivier seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “But first I want to say how much I like you. On any other day, in any other season, I would be forcin’ you two together. I woulda hand-picked you out of a crowd of pretty girls.”

  Alice felt her face go warm.

  “You think that stopping his store will save Natchitoches. You think it will keep our people speaking Creole, keep our kids from movin’ away. But it doesn’t work that way, honey. The more you fight to keep ‘em, the faster they run away.”

  “I can’t just give up and forget everything my family had,” Alice said. “I owe it to them to carry on our traditions.”

  “I know, Alice. But that has nothin’ to do with Paul’s company.” She sighed. “Let me put it another way. What are you doing to help keep our ways alive?”

  Alice blew out a breath in frustration. She’d always thought she was a mentor to Charlie, but that hadn’t really worked out. She was running a bookstore and wasn’t that enough? But that didn’t have much to do with Creole culture. And that was the heart of Alice’s gripe with technology. It was smoothing out all the edges of her people, blending them until they weren’t any different than any other.

  Mrs. Olivier went on. “Paul thinks we need to keep people here, if we want Natchitoches to stay Creole. The kids leave for the city and never come back. The schools here just don’t have the equipment. Our kids are leavin’ school without the basics they need. Paul met up with an old teacher and now he’s fixin’ to fund a grant for the schools, for computer and science labs.” She held up a hand at Alice’s look. “You think I’m just braggin’ on my boy, but I’m tryin’ to explain. You can’t waste all your energy on petitions and lawsuits. You got to do some good.”

  Alice clamped her mouth closed. Mrs. Olivier made it sound as if Alice was litigious and petty, while Paul was out educating children of Natchitoches.

  “So, we’ve got that outta the way.” Mrs. Olivier took a deep breath. “Now, this part isn’t real nice, either, but it needs to be said. I know my boy, inside and out. He’s a good man. And you know I like you. But he deserves a woman who will commit to him and support him in everythin’ he does.”

  “I― I agree.”

  “Well, then. You can see why I’d be here askin’ you to stay away.” Something in Alice’s expression must have touched Mrs. Olivier because she leaned close again and gripped her hand. “I can see why Paul loves you. But this isn’t good for him. It’s tearin’ him up inside.”

  I can see why Paul loves you. The words echoed around Alice’s brain. She wanted to object but she couldn’t seem to get back on track.

  “So, I’d like you to give him some space.” She let go of Alice’s hand and smiled. “Maybe after this has all blown over, we can go out to coffee and chat. I met your mama and daddy a few times. They were real good people and they’d be right proud of you. I’d like us to be friends, Alice. But not right now. Not while you’re standin’ in the way of all the good things my boy is trying to accomplish here.”

  She turned around and left, the little brass bell jingling one more time. Alice lowered herself into her desk chair and tried to catch her breath. Did she just get dumped by the mother of her not-really-boyfriend? That was a first.

  She reached out and ran her fingers through Van Winkle’s fur
. Mrs. Olivier mentioned a grant for the schools and Alice wished she could dismiss it as crazy mama bragging, but knew it was true. It was just like something Paul would do. He was generous and kind. If he knew the schools were struggling in the sciences, then he would help any way he could. The kids might know how to post to Facebook on a smart phone, but they wouldn’t know anything really useful, like Excel, or go even further into real programming.

  She rubbed her forehead. She’d been so focused on the mindless entertainment but it all went hand-in-hand. She wanted to ban one, without the other, and it didn’t work that way. It might end up sending Cane River back to the Dark Ages like Charlie had said.

  She’d gotten what she’d wanted. Paul hadn’t seemed like he was going to hate her for it, if that kiss from the other night was any indication. But somehow, she hadn’t thought about all the other people involved. His mother, Bix, Charlie, the whole town. She’d won and there was no turning back now.

  ****

  “We’re making an official statement later today. That’s all I have to say right now.” Paul tried to zip up his sweatshirt and wave the camera out of his face at the same time. Reporters crowded in, shouting questions as he power-walked down the sidewalk. He’d gone to Babet’s for a little breakfast and the reporters met him as he came out the front door. He hadn’t expected the news of Alice’s injunction to cause such a media circus.

  “Is it true the lawsuit comes from an ex-girlfriend?”

  “Is it true she’s your high school sweetheart?”

  “Are you still living with her?”

  “Who’s the other woman?”

  “Did you promise to marry her?”

  “Is there a baby on the way?”

  Paul stopped short and turned so fast the woman tripped over the back of his feet. “This wasn’t personal. I do know the petitioner. It has nothing to do with us as a… as friends. Now, that’s all. You’ll have to wait for the official statement.”

  He walked the block to By the Book, doing his best to ignore more and more absurd questions. Then he paused, undecided, a few feet from the front door. If he walked around the back, they’d camp out in the alleyway. He’d have to get a few of the security guards from the warehouse down there to guard the entrance to the apartments or they’d have reporters lurking in the stairwell. Going through the front, they might assume he was just visiting another store. He stepped forward, putting his hand on the knob, and then stopped.

  Looking through the glass door, he saw Alice in the middle of the room. Her expression was one of shock and horror as she took in the madhouse just feet away. Her gaze locked on his. Paul saw clearly, for the first time, what his arrival in Natchitoches meant to Alice. Her life had been wrapped in peace and beautiful words, cushioned and protected from the ugliness of the world. It was a utopia and one he had never clearly seen, until now.

  Paul dropped his hand from the knob, sourness rising in his throat. Involving Alice in his life had been a mistake. She had tried to tell him, tried to fight what he was bringing to her town. He hadn’t listened, just barreled through like he always did, so sure he was right.

  He turned his back, pushing through the crush of reporters until he made it to the sidewalk. Pulling out his phone, he dialed Andy.

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  “Another one? Where are you? And what’s all that noise?”

  “Reporters. You’ve got the rental car and I need to get out of here.”

  “Okay, it’ll be a few minutes. You can’t get into the apartment?” He could barely hear Andy but there were thumps and rustling as if he were packing up his briefcase in the middle of the meeting. His voice was muffled, as he covered the phone. “Sorry, everyone. We’ll reschedule for this afternoon.”

  “Long story. We may have to find another place.”

  There was a silence. “Alice kicked us out?”

  “No!” Paul nearly trampled a reporter trying to get his microphone near enough to Paul’s cell to hear the other side of the conversation. “I’ll explain later.”

  “On my way.” Andy disconnected. Paul put in his earbuds, went to the music on his phone and cranked up the volume. He’d loop around the boardwalk until he saw Andy. Flipping up the hood of his sweatshirt, he could almost pretend he wasn’t being chased by paparazzi. It didn’t do anything to soothe the vicious ache in his heart. He’d been wrong to come here and Alice had tried to tell him. Now he understood.

  ****

  Alice stumbled back to her desk as the reporters chased Paul down the sidewalk. She had done this to him. She had returned lawsuits for kisses, curses for blessings.

  When he looked through the glass door, his face had borne such a look of regret. His dark hair was disheveled and he had circles under his eyes. He wore a simple black hoodie and jeans. When he’d first arrived she’d thought he was arrogant and showy, but the man on the other side of the door wasn’t much different than she was. He wanted to work, have friends, live in peace. Paul Olivier didn’t deserve that kind of treatment just for trying to open a store.

  Alice wanted to protect the historic district and thought his store would hurt the people of Cane River, but she’d only seen good things come from it. The only person who’d been hurt was Paul. She’d been wrong. If she hadn’t been sure before, she was now. Her hands shook as she dialed the rotary phone, willing her heart to stop racing. Randy answered on the first ring.

  “I’ve got to cancel the injunction,” she blurted.

  “But our petition was approved,” Randy said slowly. “It’s natural to have second thoughts. Especially if you’ve had some negative reactions from friends and neighbors. But if you’re serious about this lawsuit, you can’t let them affect you.”

  “No, I was wrong. I need you to― to take it back.”

  “I can unsuit the petition, if that’s what you really want. But I can’t do it until Monday.”

  Alice let out a breath. “Okay. I can wait until then.”

  “As long as you’re sure. You can’t file again. I mean, I guess we could, but you probably wouldn’t get the petition granted twice.”

  “I’m sure. I thought I was doing the right thing. But I was wrong.”

  “I’ll file it Monday. And if you change your mind before then, let me know.” Randy sounded as if he fully expected her to call him tomorrow and tell him she’d changed her mind― again.

  “Thank you, Randy. Thank you so much.” Alice hung up. She’d spent a lot of money, wasted a lot of energy, and irritated a lot of people for nothing. Well, not nothing. She wouldn’t have been able to see the situation as clearly before. She had to reach the end before she realized she’d been going in the wrong direction the whole time.

  Alice stood up, her muscles easing. She hadn’t realized how cramped she’d been, curled up against the worry and the pain. Mr. Rochester wandered by and she almost reached out to grab him up. She wanted to hug someone, right then, and tell them all about it but there was no one to tell.

  Well, there was just one person and they weren’t even really speaking to each other. Alice chewed her nail for a moment and then sat back down, clicking open her email.

  Dear BWK,

  I know we sort of said goodbye, but I don’t have anyone else to tell this to and I’m going to burst with it. You know EBB’s verse:

  God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers,

  And thrusts the thing we have prayed

  For in our face,

  A gauntlet with a gift in it. –

  That happened to me. I prayed that I was doing the right thing, but only in the way that people do when they won’t take no for an answer.

  Can the Holy Spirit face-palm? If so- doing it right now in my direction. I don’t think I’ll get a second chance with the people I hurt, but I’m fixing what I ruined as best I can. And I finally feel ‘out of the swing of the sea’.

  Your Alice

  She sat there, staring at her email, waiting for a response. Nothing came. After a fe
w minutes, Alice stood up and paced the store. Darcy peered down at her from the top of a range, tracking her path with unblinking green eyes.

  “What do you think Darcy? Should I try to talk to Paul?” She nibbled her nails for a moment. “No, you’re right. When Elizabeth refused that first proposal, he didn’t go running back, did he?” She paced some more. “But he did send that letter explaining himself.”

  Mrs. Gaskell wandered out at the sound of Alice’s voice. She scanned the room, as if wondering who else was there. Alice reached down and picked her up, not caring if she got cat hair all over her silk shirt. “And when Margaret refused Mr. Thornton, he didn’t run back to her the next day. He went on with his life.” She scratched Mrs. Gaskell behind the ears. Jane Eyre crept in, sitting near the desk in a small shaft of sunlight. “And you. When you found out about the crazy wife in the attic, you didn’t stay. You were no caged bird.”

  Alice gently set Mrs. Gaskell on the ground. “All of you are telling me to keep myself safely at home and let Paul get on with his life. I get it.”

  She dropped into her desk chair and stared glumly at her papers. This wasn’t where she wanted to be. She raised her eyes to the screen and saw there was another message from BWK.

  Dear Alice,

  I remember I kinda sorta said to ignore mopey Sara Teasdale but she wrote:

  Spend all you have for loveliness

  Buy it, and never count the cost;

  For one white singing hour of peace

  Count many a year of strife as lost.

  I wish you well with making amends and I pray the people you’ve hurt will respond with grace.

  Your BWK

  Alice grinned at the screen. All the greatest romantic novelists of the nineteenth century said that she shouldn’t try to talk to Paul, but BWK disagreed. She read the note again, cocking her head at the kinda sorta. Paul said that the first day they’d met, when she’d accused him of murdering books. That day seemed years ago, a lifetime away.