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

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  There was a long silence, punctuated by the soft sound of Aurora’s little foot brushing against the desk, back and forth, back and forth.

  “Did something happen? I noticed you’ve been different this summer. I haven’t wanted to pry, but I saw…” Alice’s sentence trailed off and Charlie wondered what Alice saw in her now. Maybe the hardness she felt around her heart somehow translated to her gaze.

  “I just need to take a break for a little while.” Charlie looked around at the rows and rows of antique leather volumes filled with poetry, philosophy, history, ancient ballads and novels. “You always said that technology was going to be humanity’s downfall. I’ve been immersed in coding and digital art for so long I clean forgot what it was like to be in the real world.”

  “You don’t really believe that.”

  “It’s just an experiment. I’m ready to step away from it all. You know, like Thoreau.”

  “You mean when he moved to Walden Pond? He didn’t step so far away. He was only a few miles from the city and I think his mom was still doing his laundry,” Alice said.

  “Really? Wasn’t he, like, forty years old?”

  “My point is that giving up technology completely isn’t the answer. The fact that I married Paul tells you I realized that I was wrong.”

  Charlie winced at the sound of Paul’s name. She thought the guilt would fade with time, but it had only grown stronger. “Or maybe you were just in love. People in love go against everything they believe.” She realized she’d said too much as soon as the words left her mouth.

  “Sha…” Alice’s green eyes shimmered with sudden tears. “Has something… did someone…”

  A hot band of grief tightened around Charlie’s heart. It had been four months, four long months of rebuilding her life but whenever she thought about what she’d done, it still felt like yesterday. People said time healed all wounds but that had to be a lie because time only gave her a better perspective, and that perspective told her what an idiot she’d been. A gullible, desperate little girl who’d wanted to impress people she’d never met.

  “You can always talk to me,” Alice said. “No judgement. No advice if you don’t want it. I’m here, as your friend, if you need to talk to someone. About anything.”

  Girl, you’ve missed a lot and I don’t know even know where to begin. Charlie struggled to sound light hearted. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. Imagine that you’re my Emerson, and I’ve finally decided to see what happens when I cut all ties to my online life. Who knows what kind of inspiration and understanding I’ll achieve. I could be a whole new person. Gentler, wiser, more open to accepting my fellow humans.”

  “Have you read Walden? It’s full of irony and satire. It skewers a lot of the social customs of the time. He’s not particularly gentle or accepting of people.”

  “Oh, well…” Charlie couldn’t think of a rebuttal. The honest truth was that this was no break. She never intended to go back. “Can I stay? If it’s not too much trouble? I might have to change my schedule a little when I get another job, but it would be so great if I could count on a few hours here.”

  “Of course, Charlie. Of course. You can even work here full time. I really do need a manager, now that Aurora takes up so much of my time.” Alice’s eyes were shadowed with worry. “You’ve been living with your cousin Jasmine for the summer, right? Are you staying there?”

  “No, she’s been real nice to let me stay the summer, but her roommate comes back for school in a few weeks. I’ve got some places lined up, but I haven’t exactly decided. I’ll let you know.” Six months ago she would have waved her arms in the air and shouted something about a dance party, but now she simply let the relief push away the ache in her chest. “Thank you. Again. Really.”

  Alice seemed about to ask another question when the little brass bell tinkled from where it hung on the front door. A tall, lanky young man walked through the doorway. His blonde hair was brushed casually to one side and he had an open, friendly face. The office wear hinted that he might be a lawyer or maybe a mid-level manager. He lifted a hand in greeting but Charlie didn’t respond. It only took a fraction of a second, but she pegged him for the golden boy type, the kind that needed only to flash a perfect smile and doors would open in front of him. Born on third base and going through life thinking he hit a triple. She’d never found middle class privilege so annoying before, but things were different now. She turned her back.

  “Don’t worry about the schedule. I’ll make everything work out,” Charlie insisted. She could hear the young man walking up behind them and her shoulders tensed. She didn’t want anybody knowing her business and he seemed determined to insert himself into the conversation.

  “Austin, so good to see you,” Alice called out. She waved him over, adjusting the blanket a little. “Is everything okay in the apartment?”

  “Perfect. Just perfect,” he said. His voice was low and pleasant, and his smile was just the right mix of sincerity and reassurance that put people at ease. Charlie watched Alice settle back in her chair again, relief in her face. She wondered why Alice worried about her tenants being unhappy. She didn’t need the rent money. If this guy didn’t like it, he could leave.

  “Hi,” he said, and held out a hand. Charlie didn’t have any choice but to take it. Tall, well-mannered Southern men were a dime a dozen in Natchitoches and she didn’t look him in the eye when she gave her name.

  “Charlie is our science fiction and fantasy expert,” Alice said. “You love sci fi, don’t you, Austin?”

  “I’m no expert. I only know where things go on the shelves,” Charlie said.

  “That’s not true at all,” Alice said, and there was a layer of shock in her words. “You’ve read everything from Heinlein to Jules Verne, Ray Bradbury to Tolkien, and all the new stuff that I don’t carry unless you insist we need it in the collection.”

  “Jules Verne, huh?” He sounded genuinely interested.

  Charlie looked up, already knowing what came next. He’d manage a few lines or maybe talk about his favorite book, and expect her to let that pass for a deep and lasting connection. He’d think they were friends. “Yep.”

  His bright blue eyes were as clear as the sky but they narrowed just a little. She could see the wheels turning. Some men loved a challenge. Some men loved to be chased. As soon as Charlie knew which he was, she’d do the opposite.

  He said nothing.

  Alice looked from one to the other. “She’s double majoring in programming and digital design at University of Louisiana. You just graduated from there last year, right? Maybe you saw each other on campus.” Alice ignored Charlie’s look and didn’t stop to take a breath. “And she plays Ultimate Voyager. She’s played it for years and years, ever since it first came out.”

  “That right? What’s your screen name? Maybe we’ve crossed paths.”

  Charlie felt a chill travel down her spine even though the bookstore bordered on uncomfortably warm. Crossed paths. Most dedicated players knew her story. Maybe they didn’t know her real name, where she lived exactly, or what she looked like but they all knew what had happened. On message boards and private groups, thousands of people had argued and discussed her story, playing judge with only half the facts and playing executioner with an avatar that stood for a real person.

  “I doubt it,” she said and turned to Alice. “I have to go run an errand, if that’s okay.”

  Alice nodded, her deep green eyes shadowed with concern. “I’ll be here.”

  Charlie felt a rush of gratitude for small mercies. Even though she was married to a tech billionaire game developer, Alice avoided the internet and the gaming groups. To Alice, Charlie was still Charlie, and not the girl who trusted the wrong person and learned just how cruel a few thousand online bullies could be.

  Chapter Two

  We live as much in all that we have lost

  As what we own.

  ―William Wetmore Story

  Charlie forced a smile as she pas
sed Austin on her way out the door. He could take his boy-next-door routine right back to the juvenile justice center. She didn’t have any compassion for the criminals there, and couldn’t be bothered with some guy who spent his days coddling a group of juvenile delinquents. Sometimes people were just bad. Sometimes they just wanted to hurt and destroy.

  She glanced back as she stepped through the door into the late summer heat. Alice sat behind the desk, her usual smile gone. Austin stood to the side, hands in his pockets, his gaze unfocused and directed somewhere at the far end of the room.

  The boardwalk was busy that afternoon. Pedestrians meandered past in groups of three or four. The humidity coated her skin and she dragged in a few short breaths. When she’d been forced to give up her online persona, she felt as if someone had died, and for a while, she wished she had. But then it had gotten worse. Much worse.

  When the head of her department called her in and accused of her cheating, she wondered how far her former friends would go to destroy her life. She’d done her best to fight the accusations until the moment she’d realized her college account was completely empty. Then she stopped fighting the administration and started worrying how she’d ever finish her senior year if she got to stay. The day after she decided to ask Alice for help, Paul announced Screenstop had been hacked and the last five years’ worth of projects had been leaked, making them worthless. Screenstop stock plummeted. The company’s value was cut in half. Charlie had known, in that moment, how far her former friends would go. It had never been about cheating, or money, or hacking. It hadn’t been a con, and she hadn’t been the mark. It had been about being a girl.

  The warm breeze smelled of mud and the slow moving river just a few feet away. Charlie shivered despite the heat. There had been nothing left to do but pack her things and quietly move back home. Her Mama always said, You can hide the fire, but what are you gonna do with the smoke? It was true, there was a lot of smoke and Natchitoches was a small town. Everybody knew everybody. People counted cousins to the fourth degree and two steps down.

  But she was safe in Natchitoches because she was hiding in plain sight. People only knew the teenage Charlie who worked at the bookstore and doodled on her shoes and read anything with a dragon on the cover. Her other life, the one she’d always felt had really mattered, was now as distant as the moon. Everything was fine. She’d survived. Here, she would try to forget how stupid she’d been and how carelessly she’d treated her heart.

  ***

  “I’m sorry about that,” Alice said, her gaze still fixed on the front door of By the Book.

  “Nothing to be sorry about. I’m not the only pebble on the beach.” Austin Becket gave his best impression of a guy who barely noticed when a beautiful woman snubbed him. The truth was, Charlie’s brush off had stung his pride just a smidge. “I don’t expect a hug and kiss from every girl in the city, ya know.”

  She let out a soft laugh. “You and Father Tom are so alike.”

  “I’m not sure how to take that,” he said. It was hard being the much younger brother of the beloved parish priest. It wasn’t any easier to be the much younger brother of Gideon, the ex-con turned family man.

  “In the very best way. He has a certain gift. He makes everyone feel at ease.”

  “That’s true, but I don’t think I got that gift.” He not only didn’t get that gift, he had to work hard just to do his job. He spent hours staring at the ceiling every night, praying he didn’t let anyone slip through the cracks, hoping that God would give him the right words to say.

  Alice adjusted the baby and removed the blanket, lifting the tiny girl onto her shoulder. “Well, you’re both so approachable.” She paused, a frown between her eyebrows. “And usually Charlie is, too. She’s been different this summer. Quiet. Almost sad. And I can’t figure out why.”

  “You said she’s in college? That can be stressful.” Here he was, playing sidewalk counselor again. It was strange how people confided in him at the oddest times. He must have an invisible sign like Lucy’s in the Peanut cartoons. Psychiatric Help, five cents. But his would have a disclaimer: I don’t really know what I’m doing.

  “Maybe.” She didn’t look convinced. Standing up she paced the small area behind the desk, patting her baby gently on the back. “Charlie has always been… well, she’s always been Charlie.”

  “Hm,” he said.

  Alice laughed. “That doesn’t mean much to you, though, does it? You know some people are described as being like an open book. Charlie was like a mirror. No, that’s not right. She didn’t ever reflect the people around her. She was always just herself. Even when she was obsessing about those online games or desperate to get into certain groups, she was still herself.”

  “And now?”

  She frowned up at the ceiling, her patting slow and rhythmic. “She’s a mystery now. She doesn’t talk much, hardly smiles. I can’t tell what’s going on in her head.”

  “I think I know what you mean.” He worked with a lot of kids at the juvenile justice center like that. They kept everything close to the vest. Some acted that way out of fear, others because they wanted the upper hand in every conversation. Some were perfect little con artists who spent all their time trying to sniff out your weaknesses. If he were better at his job, he’d be able to tell them apart.

  “Charlotte Bronte said the human heart has hidden treasures, in secret kept, in silence sealed.” Alice glanced at him. “I don’t want you to think I have to know everything in her head. Not at all. It’s just so out of character for her to keep her thoughts to herself.”

  “She hasn’t said anything at all?”

  “She did, finally. Just today.” Her voice was muted, solemn. “She’s not going back to school.”

  He leaned against the counter. “Did she flunk out?”

  “I don’t think so. I mean, I’m not sure. She’s real smart and has never struggled at all.”

  “But sometimes smart kids have school problems, too.” He was quoting directly from a pamphlet at the center.

  “Maybe so. But it seemed more than that. Like a broken heart.”

  “Ending a dating relationship can be as traumatic as a divorce.” That was straight from Romantic Loss, chapter five of his senior year’s psychology book on Grief and Coping.

  “But she seems like she needs money, too, which is odd.” She shot him a look. “I’m not gossiping. I’m just trying to figure out what’s happened, and since you have all that experience…”

  He skipped over her compliment. “You’re a good friend. She’s lucky to have you.”

  “I just can’t figure it out. Sometimes I think it’s money but I know she has a college fund because I offered to pay her tuition. I didn’t want her to go into debt.” She was speaking to herself now.

  “Very kind of you,” he murmured. A lot of the time, people could arrive at the right conclusion on their own. They just needed a listening ear, which was good for him because he didn’t know the answers.

  “I thought it was because this spring her parents moved to Florida to be close to her grandparents, who are getting frail.” Alice patted Aurora’s little bottom while she talked. “She didn’t seem upset about it at all last year. She seemed ready to be out on her own.”

  “Senior year can be a time fraught with change and some people dig in their heels, not wanting to let go of their life as a student. They’ll miss their friends and their social lives.”

  “No, it really seems like something awful happened and she’s hiding it. Even at church, she’s so different. She always sat with us, but now she usually comes a little late and sits way in the back.” She glared at the desk, as if it were personally responsible for the changes in Charlie’s personality. “Oh, never mind. I’m just talking myself in circles. I’m sure she’ll come around eventually and share whatever happened.” She looked up. “You’re right. It’s probably nothing.”

  Austin wanted to point out that he’d never said it was nothing, but he nodded, as usual
. Someone had once told him he had a gift for listening. That person had been wrong. He had a gift for not knowing quite what to say.

  “Look at me! Such manners. You come into my store and I talk your ear off.” Alice shifted the baby around and suddenly Aurora’s dark little eyes peered up at him. “Did you need anything special today?”

  “I thought I’d browse your fantasy section and see if anything looks good. I’m out of books.”

  “Horrors.” She flashed him a smile and led the way toward the back room. “We did just get a few new additions, things Charlie asked me to order. Of course, if it’s modern and we have it, then you’ve probably already read it. I usually stock vintage books.” She paused as she reached the first range. “Oh, and if you have an ereader, our city library is setting up a new borrowing system.”

  “A bookstore owner advising me to borrow books from the library. I’m not sure what to think.” He knew he liked Alice from the first moment he met, but now he admired her, too.

  “I’m all about the books, Austin,” she said. “And that’s why my bookstore was running in the red before I met Paul.”

  He plucked a fat volume from the shelf. “You’re dedicated to entertaining the bored and lonely people of Natchitoches.”

  She was quiet for a moment. “Franklin Roosevelt said books burn, but they can’t be killed by fire. People die, books never die. No man or force can abolish memory, and that in this war we’re fighting, books are weapons.”

  Austin glanced at her, noting the set of her mouth and the steel in her gaze. Maybe he’d misjudged Alice. Maybe she was one of those people that listened to too much talk radio and believed the country was on the cusp of an implosion. “Are we fighting a war?”

  “Of course. A war against our baser selves, a war against prejudice and ignorance and hatred. A war against greed and narcissism.” She shifted the baby and looked into her little face, brushing back her curls. “When I think of what legacy I want to leave her, I don’t think about this building or what’s in the bank account. I want to leave her a community of people who remember.”