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

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  “I’ll try those,” Henry said.

  Kimberly went back to the bags and pulled out a few hangers that held only a scrap or two of fabric. “Here, these dresses’ll be ruined if you have a panty line so make sure you wear a thong underneath. I got you some in pink, white, and cream. You can choose.” She squinted at Henry. “You’re a four, right? You used to be a size four.”

  Henry sighed. “I’ve never been a size four. Maybe when I was in the sixth grade.”

  “Well, thongs don’t really run true to size, anyway. A few sizes too small won’t hurt you,” Kimberly said.

  Henry thought of all the things to put on her body, thongs seemed like one of those items that should definitely be in the right size.

  “Oh, if you don’t use the corset, I brought these.” Kimberly held up a few more silky hangers. “A balconet bra is perfect for that silk dress, keeps everything nice and high. Or this one,” she held out something that was mostly lace, “but it doubles your cup size and I’m not sure the dress will fit right if you do that, so better to stick with the corset.”

  She brought another dress out of the bag and held it up. It was fairly long, but the front seemed to plunge to the waist. “Auntie, that’s so low cut. I can’t wear that,” Henry said.

  “Sure you can. That’s why I brought this bra,” she held out another hanger. “It’s just for this type of dress. No one will see a thing.”

  Except for everything she wanted to keep covered. Lisette had never wanted her to dress nicely, never made any recommendations on how Henry could be more attractive. She’d grown up figuring she was a lost cause compared to the Pascal women. Kimberly’s ministrations were about twenty years too late.

  “I’m going to go fix my hair,” she said and slipped into the bathroom. The wedding wasn’t until three. Kimberly wasn’t going to leave now that she was in the apartment and Henry didn’t think she could keep her temper for a five hour beauty session that included too-small thongs.

  After she ran some anti-frizz cream into her hair and brushed it back into a ponytail, she swiped on a little mascara and didn’t bother with anything else. Whatever else she did, Kimberly would only undo later for the wedding. Leaning toward the mirror, Henry looked into her own eyes. She imagined a whole world of lies swimming around behind the pale sage green irises. They drifted, some faster and some slower, in an area much smaller than one would think would hold a lifetime of untruths, and Henry had to keep them from ever touching each other. While she talked and laughed and worked, a part of her was always watching the lies, making sure everything was on track. Because if they ever collided, even one or two, it would mean the end of the world as she knew it.

  Her stomach growled and Henry remembered the toast she’d left in the kitchen along with the mug of coffee. She watched herself come to a decision, eyes narrowing and lips going tight, and then she was out of the bathroom, headed for the living room. She slipped on her sneakers and grabbed her purse.

  “I’ll be right back,” she yelled, already halfway out the door. “I’m just running to get some breakfast.”

  She was nearly at the bottom of the stairs and out the back door before she realized that she’d told the truth, for once. Crossing the parking lot, she tried not to imagine Kimberly’s expression. Her phone rang in her purse and she flinched. She didn’t need to check it to know who was calling.

  The river walk seemed empty after the late summer crowds and Henry felt herself start to relax. She would just get some biscuits and hash browns to go, then head back. Once she got some food in her stomach, Kimberly and her ‘add two cup sizes’ lingerie would be a lot easier to take.

  Henry stretched her neck from side to side and felt her muscles slowly relaxing. Her ponytail was slipping and instead of tightening it up, she impulsively took out the hairband and let her hair swing free. It was still damp from her shower and she felt a little hedonistic walking around in public without it being styled. It might have been rude to run out of the apartment like that but she was doing Kimberly a favor, really. Ten minutes, or twenty, and she’d be back. Henry looked toward the river, loving the familiar glint of sun on the water. She needed to get out and walk around more. It was good for her emotional state. So was eating breakfast, now that she thought about it. The promise of a hot breakfast made her walk even faster.

  She turned the corner, still gazing at the river and dreaming of biscuits, and slammed directly into another person. There was an impression of a blue plaid shirt and some buttons, and she let out a grunt as her head connected with something hard. Hands reached out and gripped her arms as she bounced backwards.

  “I’m so sorry―” she started to say, reaching up to feel her aching nose.

  “Are you―” he said.

  “―about that.”

  “―okay?”

  Henry blinked up, still massaging the bridge of her nose. Gideon stared back, looking more than a little worried. She’d seen him not more than twelve hours ago, but she’d missed him. She wanted to reach out and hug him, but they weren’t on hugging terms. Not even handshake terms, actually.

  “I’m fine. I wasn’t paying attention at all,” she said, letting out a breath. “Obviously.”

  His eyes wrinkled at the corners and he let go of her arms. “I was looking at the blue jay in that magnolia tree,” he said, pointing out the bird perched high above them. “Seems like we were both distracted.”

  Henry considered pretending that she’d been in a hurry to do something important, but she glanced down at her faded jeans and couldn’t think of a single story that would fit. “I was on my way to get some biscuits and gravy. Or country ham. I hadn’t decided yet.”

  “Ah,” he said. “I don’t want to make you late.” She saw his gaze roam over her face and she realized she’d forgotten her glasses in the apartment. Along with the wet hair, old clothes and tennis shoes, she wondered what he could be thinking.

  “See, my aunt came over. Early. Too early. We’re going to a wedding and she showed up before breakfast with lots of dresses. And they’re really not dresses I’d want to wear. They’re all too tight or too short or too low cut,” she said. “And she brought lingerie, but it’s not lingerie I would want to put on. Everything is too tiny or too padded or shouldn’t even be considered underwear, it’s really more like―” She held up her hands, trying to convey how everything was lacking in sufficient material in all the important places.

  “Oh,” he said.

  “There was a corset,” she blurted. He could possibly blame her for trying to avoid a corset.

  “Ah.” His face was turning pink.

  Henry sighed. “I know. It’s stupid to run away from my own apartment because of that but I just thought if I got some breakfast, then I would be able to come back and go through with all the dressing and make-up and hair fixing with a much better mood.”

  “You were headed to The Red Hen?”

  “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I was trying to put some distance between me and―”

  “― the corset,” he said, his dimples appearing.

  She nodded, wishing that he would invite himself along. She’d never been someone who craved company, but she waited, hoping.

  “I won’t keep you,” he said.

  That was that. Nothing to do but walk away. But Henry still stood there.

  “You should…” She started to say. Come with me. She wished she’d worn something nicer and put on a little make up. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen wandering all over the river walk with her.

  He waited for her to finish.

  “Maybe you’d like to…?” she tried again. Her face was getting warm. “Have you already…?”

  His eyebrows were back up. She was suddenly aware of people passing by and the blue of the sky. Just an hour before she’d told herself to take it slow, to be careful with her heart. She didn’t want to get burned. They were colleagues and she’d waited years to be part of a project like his. She shouldn’t do anything
to put it in jeopardy.

  Those were all true statements, but she couldn’t think of a single good reason to follow through on her own advice now.

  “Would you like to go to breakfast with me?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and smiled for real.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sometimes it takes a good fall to really know where you stand.

  ― Hayley Williams

  Henry paused, a biscuit in one hand. “But they didn’t get in?”

  Gideon shook his head. “I don’t think so. The door is cracked and they took a few good whacks at the frame, but apparently, your fear of being trapped down there had some merit. It looked like whoever tried to get in gave it their best shot, but the door held.”

  He poked at his mushroom eggs benedict for a moment. He shouldn’t say anything unless he was sure. Speculation was how rumors got started. But he felt comfortable with Henry. She knew when to keep a secret. “It’s probably just a coincidence but I wonder if Barney Sandoz had anything to do with it.”

  “I wondered the same thing,” she said quietly. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  “I’m glad he didn’t get in but maybe he’ll be back with something heavier, or a crowbar. I’ve got to move everything out of there as soon as possible.”

  Her mouth went tight. “Good idea. And whoever it was, they would have waited for a key from the realtor if they had good intentions. No, it was definitely a thief. It makes me sick to think on it. All your work, all that time and effort― gone.”

  “All our work,” he reminded her.

  She looked up with a shy smile and he was ready to declare everything about Henry was plain wonderful. Everything she said was charming. And he loved the way she looked right now, with her hair loose around her shoulders, her eyes so green because there weren’t any glasses to hide them. Her mouth was perfect, but he’d never really known what her lips looked like without the bright lipstick. The bottom lip was plump and the top matched it perfectly, both tapering to perfect points on either side. When she talked, one side was a little higher than the other, giving the impression she was keeping some amusing thought to herself. She lifted her coffee cup to take a sip, blowing on the surface, and her lips were pursed as if she were kissing―

  “Gideon?”

  “Hm?” He snapped back to the conversation.

  “Were you listening?”

  “Yes,” he said, nodding. Her eyes widened a little and he wanted to sink through the floor. She was kind enough not to point out his lie. “I’ll be right back,” he said and stood up.

  He walked to the counter and waited for Nita to take notice of him. Leaving her at the table like that wasn’t very smooth but he didn’t know what else to say. Henry had spent her life in the shadow of one of the most beautiful women in the world, who felt no one ever really saw her, no one really listened. Gideon wanted to kick himself. She’d trusted him, opened her heart, told him secrets that no one else knew and he responded by tuning her out while she was talking, and then lying about it.

  “Hey, there.” Nita scooted around the counter and grabbed the pad from near the register. “I didn’t ring up your ticket yet. Give me a sec, hon.”

  “No hurry,” he said.

  “How you like those mushroom eggs benedict? My friend Bernice makes ‘em with a different kind of mushroom. Criminey, I think she said.”

  “It was great, as always,” Gideon said, suddenly knowing where the conversation was going to go.

  “That’s right, you know Bernice. She’s your secretary, right?” Nita didn’t wait for an answer. She pushed a few buttons on the register and peered at the slip again. “She sure loves her family, especially that nephew Blue.”

  He shifted his feet, wondering how fast Bernice would know that Gideon had been out with Blue’s girlfriend. He could say it was just breakfast, but this was Natchitoches and there was no such thing when two single people were involved.

  “She said he’s takin’ the break up real well,” Nita said.

  “Break up?”

  “He’s a gentleman so he wouldn’t say what went wrong but I guess we can all see it now.” She gave him a look that said he wasn’t on her list of favorite customers any more.

  “Went wrong?”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t know Blue and Henry are no longer datin’ because I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday.” She entered a final item and hit the tally button. The register whirred and a total appeared on the tiny screen.

  Gideon stared at the little green numbers, his mind struggling to catch up with Nita’s words.

  “You want to split the check? I just assumed you were paying for breakfast.” She planted a hand on her hip. “I’m not tellin’ you what to do, but no woman wants to go Dutch for everything, no matter how educated she is.”

  He shook his head. “No, that total is right. I was just thinking.” He handed over his card and then signed the little receipt. He took a twenty out of his wallet and handed it back over with the restaurant’s copy. “And thank you for the really excellent service, Nita. As always.”

  “You need change for this?” She was already rummaging around in her apron pockets, pulling out single dollars and counting them.

  “No, that’s for you.” Gideon would have reached over and given her a big kiss on the forehead if he could have gotten away with it.

  “Huh? Well, if you say so.” Nita gave him a sidelong look. “And don’t try to impress her too much. I don’t think she likes a show off.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. He could stay here all day and listen to Nita tell him how to win over Henry.

  “Get away with you,” she said, flapping one hand in his direction. “You’re smiling so big you’re worryin’ me.”

  Gideon nodded and turned back to the table. The whole restaurant seemed lighter, full of wonderful smells and happy people. And there she was, sitting at their table, waiting for him to return. There was a question in her eyes, those beautiful green eyes, and as he came close, he wanted to pull her up from her chair and―

  “Did you just pay for my breakfast? You shouldn’t have done that. I invited you.” Her brows were drawn together.

  “Already done,” he said. “And we should probably get you back to that torture session now that you’ve been fortified by some good creole scramble, biscuits, and strong coffee.”

  “I suppose you’re right. And thank you. I may just survive the next few hours of primping.”

  They chatted on the way back to her apartment, talking as easily as if they’d been friends for years. The sunlight sparkled on the river, families strolled along the river walk, and Robert Browning’s line ‘God’s in His heaven and all’s right in the world’ ran through his mind. Gideon was starting to think this was the best morning of his entire life.

  The only ripple in the perfect moment was that soon she’d be back to her packed weekend and he already missed her.

  “Are you going to St. Augustine’s tomorrow?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. Kimberly usually likes to attend the basilica. Bigger crowd.” She didn’t need to clarify that the crowd was for Kimberly, and not the Mass.

  They walked in silence for a few moments. The path to the back door of By the Book appeared and Henry stopped. “Thank you again. For breakfast. And the company.”

  “My pleasure. Thank you for inviting me.” Gideon wanted to reach out and tuck a stray curl behind her ear. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets. “Maybe when Kimberly is gone…”

  His mouth went dry and he realized why Henry had stuttered out his breakfast invitation. Asking her on a date was terrifying. He should have rehearsed something for this moment, but he hadn’t known there was any kind of chance for him, not today. What if she said no? What if she said yes?

  She was looking up at him, amusement and curiosity in her eyes.

  “I mean, when you have time, maybe…” Gideon wished he’d never started this. He should have left the p
erfect morning just as it was. He’d been greedy. Pigs get fed and hogs get eaten. He was about to experience what happened when you were ungrateful.

  “Yes,” she said.

  For a moment he thought he’d finished his sentence and hadn’t noticed.

  “Whatever it is, yes.” Her eyes were crinkled at the corners but she kept a straight face.

  She was laughing at him and he didn’t mind a bit. Gideon let out a slow breath. “You’re making this easy on me.”

  She stepped forward, put a hand on his arm, and stood on tiptoe before he registered that she was going to kiss him. He leaned down a bit as she pressed her lips to his cheek. Her mouth was warm and soft, and he wanted to keep her there forever.

  “Call me,” she said, already turning away.

  He tried to respond but ended up just lifting a hand in a half-wave, seconds after she’d disappeared from sight. Maybe that old saying was wrong. Maybe there was something to being bold and asking for more than you deserved.

  He started back down the sidewalk, in awe of how easy it was to be around her. She made everything seem possible, even the one scenario that filled him with fear. To willingly create a child and be responsible for their innocence was unthinkable. He’d failed Katie Rose, failed Austin, failed Mark Daniels’ son when he’d taken revenge.

  But for a moment, he imagined a life with Henry. In his vision, it was a life full of easy mornings, tender touches, a partner in his work and life, perhaps even a child. He wondered how it would be to plan the years ahead with anticipation, rather than resignation.

  A tiny flare of hope sparked inside him, burning bright and hot. He hardly dared to believe it. As dark as his past was and as cold-hearted as he’d been, there might be a chance for him to have a family after all.

  ***

  Henry couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. Being that close to Gideon was like taking a drug that erased her logical self. She’d never been the impulsive type. Her college years were marked by single-minded dedication to achieving her degrees. Moving home and taking the position at the Cane River historical park was part of a long-term, carefully thought-out plan. Working with Gideon Becket was a goal she’d envisioned and was thrilled to achieve. But everything else she’d done since she arrived had run the gamut from spontaneous to utterly rash.