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

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  Henry grinned remembering the way he’d slumped in relief when she said yes. She couldn’t imagine what had been going through his mind. It was true, he’d done something terrible a long time ago, but that wasn’t who he was now. Any woman for miles around would have accepted him. Maybe he was used to women playing it cool. If Kimberly had been there, she would give a little speech on how to reel in a man by playing coy, not letting him know how much she really cared. Henry had never been the coy kind of girl.

  She put a hand to her lips, remembering the way he had frozen in place when she stepped toward him. She’d kissed Blue’s cheek a few times, and he always greeted her with a kiss, but somehow it had seemed about as exciting as a handshake.

  Henry reached her apartment door and sighed. Her stomach was in knots. Even though sitting through a wedding at the basilica for someone she’d never even met wasn’t going to be too awful, she still dreaded it.

  Kimberly stood up from the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. She said nothing, just fixed her with a cold stare.

  “I’m back,” Henry said brightly. “I’ve had coffee and breakfast. So, we can go ahead and get started.”

  “Lorelei,” Kimberly said. She seemed as if she might follow up with a lecture but instead, she shook her head and tears started to stream down her cheeks.

  “Okay. Let’s not get dramatic. We still have four hours left to get ready.” She started to walk toward the bedroom “You can choose two dresses, and I’ll choose from one of those.” She turned, lifting a finger. “But I choose the underwear.”

  Kimberly hadn’t moved. She stood still, letting out tiny sobs.

  “This doesn’t make me sorry,” Henry said, starting to lose her temper. “It makes me not want to go at all.”

  “Isn’t that the way it always is? You do whatever you want. You have all the power.”

  Henry gaped at her. “What power? You show up whenever you want and announce I’ll be doing exactly as you say, or,” she waved a hand, “this happens.”

  Kimberly sucked in a breath. “I’ve come home every time you were visiting. I sent you cards and letters. I could be making a movie right now. Instead, I’m here, trying to convince you to spend some time with me. I’m giving up a lot. All I ever wanted was to be close to you, Lorelei.”

  Maybe it was hearing her childhood name right then, after feeling the way everything fell naturally together with Gideon but Henry spoke without thinking. “That’s a lie.”

  Kimberly put a hand to her chest. “What?”

  It was too late to take the words back. “You never gave up anything. Except me.”

  Her face turned ashen. “How do you know that?” she whispered. “Who told you?”

  “I’ve always known it. Always.” Henry sucked in a shaky breath. “So don’t try and tell me that all you’ve ever wanted was to be close to me because if that were true, you wouldn’t have given me up.”

  “I only wanted the best for you,” she said, her voice rising. “I didn’t want you to grow up in Hollywood, with all the gossip and fake people. I wanted you to have a happy childhood somewhere with people who loved you.”

  Henry choked out a laugh. “Do you even hear yourself?” With people who loved you. Henry couldn’t bear to repeat the words but said instead, “You didn’t want the best for me. You wanted the best for you. You wanted the freedom to pursue your career without a baby in tow. You wanted to be seen as a sex symbol and being a mommy wasn’t part of that. You wanted to date powerful directors but they wouldn’t look twice at you if I was in the picture.”

  She stepped back, as if Henry’s words were physically pushing her away. “I wanted you to be happy. That’s all I ever wanted.”

  “To leave me with someone I hardly knew, with someone who never wanted me,” Henry said and suddenly she was crying, her words coming out high and pinched. “She pretended to be my mother, but she didn’t really love me.”

  Kimberly’s eyes were wide with horror. “That’s not true. Lisette loves you, Lorelei.”

  “No. She tolerated me. She sheltered me and made sure I was clothed and fed, but she never loved me.” Henry could hardly speak through the pain. Day after day, she’d sensed Lisette’s coolness, her ambivalence, her resentment. From her very earliest memory, Henry had understood she wasn’t wanted. “As soon as I went to college, she stopped bothering to even answer my calls.”

  “I didn’t know,” Kimberly said. “I really didn’t. You have to believe me.”

  Truth.

  “Believe you? You’ve lied to me for twenty eight years and you want me to believe you now?” She put a hand to her forehead, struggling for control. “You haven’t earned my trust. In fact, I don’t think you ever will. That time is long past, Kimberly.”

  Henry could see her words sinking in as Kimberly’s face went slack and realization dawned in her eyes. “I see,” she whispered. She walked to the door, her movements slow and sluggish. Picking up her purse and slipping it over her shoulder, she turned. “Whether you believe it or not, I do love you and I only wanted you to be happy.”

  As the door closed, Henry stood motionless in the middle of the room. She waited to feel freedom at the lies finally exposed, for the relief to rush in and fill the aching place where she’d held that festering secret for so long.

  Instead, there was only another incarnation of the same deep pain. Henry knew then that even though truth had power, the wielding of it was a dangerous and terrible thing.

  ***

  Gideon walked back toward his car, feeling Henry’s kiss on his cheek long after she was gone from view. Before he’d quite literally run into her, his mind had been clouded with worry over the collection and the possible sale of the Finnmore house. Now he couldn’t focus enough to remember what else he had to do that day.

  “I told ya to stay put, Nathan.” The angry words came from just behind a hedge of azalea bushes.

  “I’m sorry, daddy. Please don’t be mad, daddy.”

  Gideon stopped cold. The fear in the child’s voice wasn’t the kind that came from being caught misbehaving. It was fear that knew how swift and cruel punishment would be. He took a few steps to the right and peered over the bushes. Gideon’s blood ran cold at the sight.

  “I’m sorry. You said we were gonna get breakfast but you didn’t come back.” A little boy cowered before Reggie Landre, both hands raised up in front of his face. “I didn’t see anything, I promise.”

  Reggie grabbed him by the back of the neck and shook him, nearly throwing the little boy into the dirt. “I’m gonna have to teach you respect, boy. You disobey me and you have to face the consequences.” He raised his hand, fingers closed into a fist.

  Gideon was through the hedge and wrapped his arm around Reggie’s neck before he thought any of it through. “Let go,” he growled into Reggie’s ear.

  Nathan dropped to the dirt and looked up, his eyes wide with fear. Tears streaked down his cheeks and he gasped for air.

  “I don’t have no problem with you,” Reggie said, putting both hands up, an echo of Nathan’s gestures just seconds ago. “Whoever you are, I was just tryin’ to discipline my son.”

  “Well, I have a problem with you. You don’t deserve to have this boy in your life.” Reggie didn’t know who had him around the neck and temptation surged through him at the idea of anonymity. Gideon wanted to squeeze harder, to show Reggie what it felt like to be afraid of someone bigger and stronger, someone who had all the control. Desire twisted in his gut and he felt his muscles tense in anticipation.

  “Please, don’t hurt him. Please,” Nathan said, jumping to his feet. He grabbed onto Gideon’s arm. “Mister, please let my daddy go.”

  He looked down into eyes that were filled with terror. Please let my daddy go. Gideon had begged for his father’s life, and his mother’s, and Katie Rose’s, then his own. He’d been sure if he could just make them listen, they would stop. But they’d brushed him aside as easily as Gideon had done just then.


  Dropping his arms, he stepped back, breathing hard. “I’m sorry, Reggie.”

  He whirled around, rubbing his neck, fury etched on his features. “Becket,” he spit out. “I should have known. You followin’ me? You said you got somethin’ against Nightmare Jones and his crew. Well, whatever you seen, you better forget it. You think you’re safe ‘cause you’re out, but you’re not.” Reggie stepped closer. “You had the chance to take protection from us but you turned it down. Now it’s too late.”

  Gideon said nothing, his heart pounding with adrenaline and shock. He wasn’t worried about himself. Reggie had no idea who he was threatening. Gideon had thought he’d changed, but he hadn’t. He was still a murderer, deep down, under his professional life and his degrees. He was still a man who would take a life without a second thought. He glanced at Reggie’s son, wishing he could say he was sorry but knowing there were no words to make those memories go away.

  He felt bile rise up in his throat and he turned away.

  “Yeah, you better run. Just remember, there’s no place to hide,” Reggie called after him.

  Gideon blindly followed the sidewalk to the parking lot and got into his car. He rested his head against the steering wheel, willing his heart to stop racing. His palms were sweaty and his stomach rolled. He hadn’t touched another person like that in years. There had been no warning, no prelude. One moment he’d been dreaming of a family with Henry and the next he’d wanted to strangle a man in front of his own son.

  Whatever lies he’d been telling himself, he knew the truth now. He was a broken man, dark and twisted where he should be whole. Henry deserved someone who could give her a real life. She deserved someone better, someone who wouldn’t ever put her in danger.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Never tell the truth to people who are not worthy of it.

  ― Mark Twain

  “How are you?” Henry held out a hand to Father Tom, trying not to look too obvious. She glanced around, wondering where Gideon was hiding. She knew he went to St. Augustine’s but maybe he’d gone to a Saturday night service.

  “Wonderful. And I haven’t seen him this morning.” He shaded his eyes and peered at the few stragglers exiting the church. It was silly to look twice. The church only held about fifty people and it was only about that half that many each service. “I’ll try to call him in a bit. You want me to pass on a message?”

  “Oh,” Henry said, her face going warm. Maybe he’d gone to the basilica because she’d said she would be there with Kimberly. Another stab of guilt went through her at the thought of her mother. She’d hoped sometime during church she’d feel a little bit better at about what she’d said, but the memory sat heavy in her stomach like a stone. She tightened her ponytail until it hurt and put on a smile. “No, no message.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s probably under the weather. Or avoiding me because he knows another trip for the retired priests is right around the corner and I always make him drive for us.”

  “The what?”

  Father Tom paused to shake the hand of a middle aged couple and then said, “The retired priests of Natchitoches parish have a few outings, just a day trip to see something new. Next Saturday, they’re headed to Mount Driskill. Have you been there?”

  “No, I don’t think I have.”

  “Excellent. We needed another driver,” Father Tom said, a carefully innocent expression on his face.

  “Tricky. I’m almost sorry I asked, except that it sounds like fun.”

  “Well, I’m not sure how fun it will be, but I’m serious about needing another driver. The last trip we fit everyone in two cars, but some of them are getting pretty fragile. I think they’re most comfortable in a reclining seat, and definitely not three to a back row. We’ll only have eight this year, since we lost Father Louis this spring.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. And I’d be glad to help.”

  “Good,” he said. “I knew I could count on you. It’s about an hour on 155 North, so not too far. I’ll bring some picnic food and after we eat, we’ll head back.”

  “Okay, I’m in.” Henry looked around one more time. “I’d better get back. I think I’m expected at my grandparents’ house for brunch.”

  “Tell Birdie and Frank hello from me. And Kimberly,” he added before turning and heading back up the stairs.

  Henry’s stomach dropped. She was going to have to face Kimberly sooner or later, and if she didn’t skip brunch then it would be sooner. She trudged toward the car, willing herself to think positively. Maybe everything had blown over by now and life would go back to normal. Kimberly would swoop in, annoying her to pieces, and then jet back to Los Angeles. Just like always.

  She repeated those thoughts to herself but she knew, deep down, that nothing was ever going to be the same. The truth was out and there was no way to cover it up again.

  ***

  “You’re in big trouble,” Tom said as he walked inside Gideon’s living room.

  “Make yourself at home.” He didn’t look up from his book and didn’t move his legs from where he was stretched out on the couch. “No, really. You don’t have to knock. Let’s get past all those pesky social conventions.”

  Tom didn’t stop, but went through the living room and into the kitchen. “Church skipper. You’re here at home reading sad poetry while I’m slaving away. Nobody laughed during my sermon. You’re supposed to be there to laugh at my jokes.” His voice was muffled a little, as if he had his head in the fridge.

  Gideon didn’t respond. Tom didn’t usually tell jokes during his sermons and he certainly had a perfectly receptive audience when he did.

  Tom returned holding a Coke and flopped into a chair. “So, explain yourself. Your parish priest demands a justification of your absence.”

  “I think I have cold drinks in the fridge,” Gideon said, waving a hand from behind his book. “Help yourself. Don’t be shy.”

  “Well, I shouldn’t say that nobody laughed. Henry did,” Tom said. “Henry, looking perfectly lovely as always, was at church. And you, big brother, were not.”

  He knew Tom was pulling out all the stops now. Gideon couldn’t hold on to whatever was bothering him when he called him that. “I thought she was going to the minor basilica.”

  “So, you weren’t avoiding her?”

  “Why would I?”

  He settled back against the chair and gave him a long look. “I figured your sudden absence had to do with some sort of girl problem.”

  Gideon rolled his eyes at the ceiling. Henry wasn’t a girl. She was a woman. But he didn’t bother to clarify that point.

  “If it’s not Henry, what is it? You don’t appear sickly and this is probably the first time you’ve skipped church in…” He paused to think back. “Ever.”

  He shrugged and went back to his book of poetry. In his peripheral vision, he could see Tom staring, motionless. He pretended Tom didn’t exist and tried to read. Here is a wound that never will heal, I know, being wrought not of a dearness and a death, but of a love turned ashes and the breath gone out of beauty. He read the same lines four times and wished he could move the book up a little higher to block out Tom, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

  Several minutes passed, while he turned pages and tried to focus. Edna St. Vincent Millay always soothed him but today it was a struggle to comprehend even the most familiar lines. What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten. Which reminded him of how Henry had jumped away from him at Oakland Plantation, but then kissed him just yesterday morning. He would never forget it. Could never forget it. Even though it was likely the only kiss he’d ever get, now that he knew he couldn’t trust himself.

  Tom hadn’t moved a muscle. He might not have even blinked. Gideon became increasingly aware of how loud his own breathing sounded in his ears. Finally, he snapped the book closed and sat up in one movement. “Fine. You win.”

  Tom took a slow sip of Coke. “I don’t know how you survived prison. I didn’t even
say anything.”

  “I’m a terrible person and that will never change.”

  “And you came to this realization sometime between Friday afternoon and this morning? Unrelated to anything else?”

  Gideon slumped, staring at his feet. He told the whole ugly story of nearly killing Reggie and forever scarring little Nathan. “I was supposed to be helping him. I was his mentor,” he finished. He could hear the disgust in his own voice. “I’m a killer. There’s no use pretending I’m anything but a killer.”

  Tom let out a long breath. “I thought we were past this.”

  “No, I didn’t understand the true nature of the situation. I confessed to committing a mortal sin. I didn’t realize I was permanently…” Damned. He couldn’t say the word. “There’s a part of me that can never change. It’s useless to sit there and pretend I’m anything but what I am.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake.”

  Gideon glared at Tom. “You asked. I’m telling you.”

  “Know what? I’m not going to debate theology with you because you’re perfectly aware that what you just said is complete horse puckey.” He sat up and held up a hand. “No, it is. But I will tell you what’s really going on and you’re not going to like it.”

  “Nothing can change the truth,” he said. “Say whatever you want.”

  Tom’s face turned hard. Gideon rarely saw him angry, not this kind of angry. “You did something bad― which actually, has some redeeming points but I’ll leave that for later. So, you did something bad, and you’re upset with yourself and instead of acting like a mature person about it, you’re sulking. You’re disappointed in yourself and you’ve decided to sit on your couch and have a pity party.”

  “Pity―?” Gideon felt fury rising inside.

  “Yes, wah wah. Complain. Whine. I just hope you don’t take another seven years to get your head on straight.”