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

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  “No, sorry, Miss Alice. He just rubs me the wrong way.” She looked up and tried to smile. “And the rain always makes me sad. Just feeling emotional, I guess.”

  Alice seemed like she was going to ask another question but instead she walked forward and placed sleeping Aurora in Charlie’s arms. “Babies should be classified as antidepressants. Sit down. Hold her for a while. Try not to think about anything.” She pressed a kiss to Aurora’s forehead and the baby let out a sigh in her sleep. “When I feel overwhelmed, I focus on one thing, like her little ear. It’s miraculous, when you really spend the time to look at it. So perfectly formed, every little bit. I’ll get you a cup of coffee.” She waved a hand. “Go. Sit.”

  She started to say that sitting with Aurora wasn’t going to change anything, but she realized how weary she felt. Having a quiet break sounded pretty nice, actually. Alice walked to the back of the store where they kept the coffee maker and Charlie headed for the old red armchair by the front window. Carefully settling in, she adjusted the blanket so Aurora’s little socks were covered. The baby felt warm and substantial in her arms. After a few minutes, the smell of fresh coffee wafted toward her. The rain had slowed but the sidewalk was still clear of pedestrians and further past the grass covered banks, she could see Cane River flowing by. The ache in her chest started to ease. It suddenly occurred to Charlie how long it had been since she’d hugged anyone. Or even touched anyone. She tightened her arms around Aurora. The bookstore was silent except for the soft sound of the rain outside and Alice’s footsteps near the back of store.

  Charlie let her gaze wander along the wooden benches, dark with rain. Her heart rate slowed. She still didn’t have enough money for gas or anything in her fridge, but Alice was right. Babies made everything better. She leaned down and inhaled deeply. Strawberries. Her stomach let out a growl and she remembered the package of PopTarts in her sweatshirt pocket. She was too relaxed to move but eventually the gnawing hunger convinced her to wiggle out of the comfortable red chair, cross to where her sweatshirt hung, and retrieve the silver packet single-handedly.

  As she lowered herself back in the chair, Aurora let out a sigh and Charlie froze. If it was a question of eating lunch or waking the baby, she’d just go hungry, but after a while the little girl settled back into a deep sleep. It took a few minutes and a bit of contorting but she eventually opened the foil package. She had eaten PopTarts a few times in her life, mostly while traveling with friends. It wasn’t the kind of food she craved. At the store, it seemed the two cheapest choices were salty junk food or sweet junk food. Maybe apples and pears would cost less in the summer. She didn’t know. She’d never bothered to notice. Her whole life she’d walked into a grocery store and bought whatever she wanted, not really looking at the final tally.

  The first sweet pastry went fast and although it was dense, her stomach still felt hollow. She nibbled the next. Dinner was hours away. An image of the gas gauge popped into her mind. It was a newer car but even with good mileage she probably only had a few trips home and back left in the tank. If only she’d rented an apartment closer to bookstore, but the Natchitoches Historic District area was premium real estate. Austin must have a nice salary to pay for the spacious rooms above By the Book. The apartments anywhere within walking distance were out of her budget. Actually, her current apartment was out of her budget, even across the river near the industrial area and as dingy as it was.

  She stared down at the half-eaten pastry. The chemical smell of the cherry filling made her stomach turn.

  “Oh, sha, that’s the look I get on my face when I eat junk food, too.” Ruby was standing a few feet away, her eyes twinkling with laughter. “It all sounds so good and then after a few bites, I realize my mama had it right. We need to stick to the food our people cook. Jambalaya, gumbo, meat pies, greens, biscuits and gravy, the like.”

  Charlie’s stomach rumbled in response but she couldn’t help but smile. Bix Beaulieu was the other employee of By the Book, and where Bix went, usually Ruby went, too. Not that she was a clingy wife. Not at all. After they both lost their spouses and found new love with each other, those two eighty-year-olds were even more independent than ever. “If I could carry some home cooked gumbo in my pocket, I would,” she said.

  “Well, cook it up at home and bring it in some Tupperware. C’est tout.”

  “If I knew how.” Charlie shrugged, smiling. It was more complicated than that, of course.

  “My word, if Alice hasn’t taught you to cook gumbo, somethin’ isn’t right with the world.” Ruby swung around, hands on hips. Alice was nowhere in sight, probably fixing Charlie’s cup of coffee. Ruby turned her outrage back toward Charlie. “That’s it. You’re coming home with us tonight. I don’t have the fixins for gumbo, but I can make us some blackened catfish. Bix just caught a mess of ‘em and they’re already in the ice box, all clean. Won’t take us but a minute to fry ‘em up. ”

  Charlie opened her mouth to explain that she already knew how to cook. Not a lot, but enough to make her mama happy. When she was thirteen, her mama had despaired over all the time Charlie spent gaming so they’d compromised. She’d learned to cook Creole food and her mama would stop worrying that she’d end up without any useful skills. “No, Miss Ruby, you don’t have to―”

  “After that, we’ll whip up some fresh beignets and have coffee. I’d make my famous bread pudding with vanilla peach sauce but I don’t think we got the time.” She looked at a delicate silver watch on her wrist. “Yep, that’s settled. You know where we live? Right down on Emile Street. Good thing, too, since Bix can’t drive anymore and he can’t come pick you up.”

  Charlie remembered the day the DMV finally rescinded Bix’s license. The whole city of Natchitoches seemed to give a sigh of relief. Bix had been driving by memory for years and his old green Cadillac had been the end of more flower planters and mailboxes than a person could count. Charlie thought of trying one more time to explain that she didn’t need cooking lessons but then she thought of the ramen noodles she was going to cook for dinner. “Sure, I remember. What time should I be there?”

  “Just come on over when you close up the shop.” Ruby leaned down and peeked at Aurora. “Sleeping like an angel.”

  “Can you believe I get paid for this? There’s not a better job anywhere.”

  “I bet you miss it something fierce when you go off to college. And aren’t you leavin’ here pretty soon?”

  “Actually, I―”

  “Hi, Ruby,” Alice said, walking up next to them, a steaming mug in her hand. “You want some coffee? Made it just now.”

  “Sure thing. I never turn down a cup before four in the afternoon. After four, it gives me terrible heart burn. Poor Bix says I keep him awake, moaning in my sleep.”

  Alice tugged over a little table and set the mug carefully down next to Charlie’s free hand. “You want me to take her now?”

  Charlie looked down at the soft, warm bundle. “If it’s okay, I’d like to hold her a little longer. I’ll be real careful.” She shifted Aurora as far to the left as she could and took a sip, demonstrating how she’d drink over the little table.

  “That’s my smart girl,” Alice said and headed back for another cup. Charlie took another sip, letting the hot liquid sit on her tongue. Smart girl. Her whole life she’d thought she was smarter than the average person, basing her assessment on grades and how fast she could read through a fat fantasy novel. Now she knew there were all kinds of smart and Charlie was definitely not the kind that kept you from failing at life.

  “You were saying something about going back to school,” Ruby said.

  Charlie coughed, nearly swallowing wrong. “Oh, I’m actually not―”

  The front door opened and the little brass bell tinkled as Gideon and Henry Becket walked through. Ruby rushed forward to give them both a hug and Charlie waved from her spot in the armchair. She was only prolonging the inevitable but she really didn’t want to have that conversation right now. Alice was int
uitive, but she also didn’t pry. Ruby would ferret out a secret faster than grass through a goose.

  Henry smiled over Ruby’s head as she was hugged. When it was Gideon’s turn for a squeeze, his usual stern expression softened and Charlie almost laughed at how short Ruby seemed. She’d met Gideon when he’d arrived in town and she would have bet her laptop that he wasn’t the marrying type. He was hands down the most handsome man in Natchitoches but came with a permanent scowl, fifteen years in prison and a conversational style best described as “terse”. Henry Byrne, on the other hand, seemed blessed with enough social skills for both of them. She didn’t spend a lot of time socializing but when she did, she always seemed to know what to say.

  Charlie never would have figured those two would fall in love. Maybe it was because they were both Cane River historians. Maybe it was because they attended Isle Brevelles, the little historical Catholic church which was part of the Cane River Creole National Historical Park. Whatever it was, those two had fallen so hard and so fast, that it was difficult for Charlie to remember a time before they weren’t together.

  “Charlie, did ya hear what I said?” Ruby asked.

  “No, Ma’am. I’m sorry. What was it?”

  “Ruby was inviting us to dinner tonight. She says y’all are cooking.” Henry’s green eyes held a question, as if she wanted Charlie’s permission before accepting.

  “We sure are. You should come.” Charlie felt herself relax a little at the idea of other guests. It wouldn’t be so obviously a cooking lesson, but more of a dinner party, and maybe it was easier for Ruby to entertain if she had a young person to do the work.

  “What should we bring?” Gideon asked, dark eyes fixed on his wife. There was a tenderness in his features, the way a person far from home recognizes a familiar accent.

  “Maybe dessert? Or a garden salad?” Ruby suggested. “But if everybody starts bringing food, we’ll have leftovers for days. How about y’all just come and enjoy the food?”

  “If you insist.” Henry came over and bent down next to the old armchair. Pulling back the blanket, she smiled at Aurora. “Lucky duck, getting to hold the baby,” she whispered.

  “I know. I have the best job in the world,” she whispered back. “Would you like to hold her?” Without waiting for an answer she got up from the chair, moving to place Aurora in Henry’s arms.

  “Oh, we should invite Father Tom.” Ruby turned to Gideon. “And Austin. I bet he doesn’t get a hot meal very often.”

  Charlie froze, her arms outstretched, Aurora’s tiny body halfway to Henry’s hands. Her argument with Austin had been running through her mind since she returned to the bookstore. The more she thought on it, the more she was afraid she’d misunderstood him. Misunderstood and then accused him of being arrogant, entitled and not caring if he did his job. Shame flashed through her. There was no way she could sit through a dinner with him but Ruby was already counting on her to help cook. For the hundredth time that day, Charlie felt the frustration of being trapped between a rock and a hard place. Or a bowl of ramen noodles and a guy she really didn’t want to see.

  Henry looked into her eyes, and there was the smallest fraction of time where Charlie felt as if Henry could read her thoughts. But that was impossible. Charlie stepped forward and deposited little Aurora in Henry’s arms. “That’s a great idea,” she said.

  “I can call Tom and Austin,” Gideon offered.

  “Or we could have them over this weekend,” Henry said. She brushed Aurora’s cheek. “We don’t want to overwhelm Ruby and Charlie. That’s a lot of cooking.”

  “Oh, it’s no problem at all,” Ruby said. “Well, I might have to cook up another side dish or two, but we’ve got plenty, honest.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Henry turned and flashed a brilliant smile. For a moment, Charlie could see Henry’s aunt, the famous film actress. It was hard to keep a thought when Henry smiled like that.

  “Austin can eat his own weight in catfish, if I remember from our last trip.” Gideon was leaning over Henry’s shoulder, eyes fixed on the baby. “How about we just invite everyone over after church for a low country boil? It’s been a while since y’all have been out to our place.”

  Ruby shrugged, her lips turning up. “Can’t argue with that plan, either. I love coming out to Lac Terre Noire. So peaceful.”

  Charlie let out a breath. “I’d better get back. Don’t steal the baby. Alice wouldn’t be afraid to chase you down the river walk.”

  “Not sure who she’s talkin’ to but I don’t think it’s me,” Ruby said and winked at Henry.

  “No stealing, I promise,” Henry said and her cheeks were pink.

  Gideon let out a soft laugh and stepped to the side. “My turn. It’s bad manners to hog the baby.”

  “I’ll walk over as soon as I’m done here, Ruby.” Charlie took one more look at Gideon and Henry, her heart aching at the love in his eyes and the way she leaned into his side. It was the kind of love she’d wanted, the kind she’d thought she had.

  On her way back to the desk, she passed Alice heading toward the door, coffee mug in hand. “Good luck getting her back now,” Charlie said.

  “Hey, if they thought I was hard on Paul when we first met, they should see what happens when you run away with my baby. They’ll never know what hit ’em.” Alice gave her best tough guy expression as she headed for Gideon, which was actually a little bit scary. Even though Alice wouldn’t hurt a fly, Charlie knew how stubborn she could be. Add in some maternal hormones and they would all be sorry.

  Charlie settled back in the desk chair and ran her hand over Van Winkle’s sleeping side. God bless Ruby and her inability to see a good Creole girl eat some junk food. Alice had said holding Aurora and watching the rain would solve her problems, and in a way, it had. She closed her eyes for a moment. The idea of a hot, home-cooked meal wasn’t attractive just because she was sick of cheap, packaged food. She missed her parents, missed sitting at a table and talking to other people about her day. If she still had any online friends, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much to go back to that dark little apartment. Climbing four flights of stairs, walking down the long concrete hallway and entering the cramped corner unit filled her with dread. It wasn’t that she was so spoiled and had always lived in beautiful homes. It was just so depressing to be alone. Alone and unmoored.

  She opened her eyes and doodled on the notepad at the desk. Investing ten years of her life in one area seemed like a good idea at the time. She never imagined that she’d have to leave it all behind. There wasn’t any reason to work on her programming or her illustrations now. She hadn’t even unpacked her art supplies. Charlie blinked down at the sketch she’d made. Without thinking, she’d outlined one of her favorite creations. The young man peered out from under a hood, his cheek bones like knife edges, eyes slanted and heavy lidded, brows arched impossibly high. His limbs were lithe and long, the bow in his hand a clue to his status as an archer. He was powerful and confident.

  She frowned at the paper and moved to scratch out the figure but paused, her pen hovering over the lines of the familiar face. Slowly, she enlarged his top lip, making it lush and full. A few pen strokes and his figure changed imperceptibly, giving the impression of someone softer and more feminine. Charlie rounded the cheeks, darkened the lashes, and added a miniature knot-work necklace that rested against the hollows of the neck.

  Squinting at the drawing, Charlie knew it wasn’t quite right. It was too feminine to be considered a male character now, but still it wasn’t enough. She quickly added two small, rounded lines on the chest. Now there was no doubt. Her archer, the character she had programmed an entire game around, was now a girl.

  She set the little sketch against the desk and felt the ghost of a smile cross her lips. She’d spent years creating characters while keeping in mind what would be most marketable and popular. And nobody wanted to play the girl. Maybe as a side character or an alternate, but an entire game wrapped around a female? Not likely, unless it was s
ome over-sexualized bikini maiden that was used and abused by all the other characters.

  Charlie touched the sketch with a forefinger. “I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough for you,” she said. Of all the people she’d hurt, all the people she’d disappointed, this character was right up there on the list. It was straight from her heart, part of her, yet she’d been too afraid to show her to the world the way she was meant to be.

  She wouldn’t get another chance at creating her game. That opportunity was gone as surely as her college account. But looking at the drawing, Charlie knew she’d finally made right something that had been wrong for a very long time.

  Chapter Six

  It is life near the bone where it is sweetest. ― Thoreau

  “Are you sure I’m invited?” Austin turned and gave Bix another searching glance.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t you be?” He set his old straw hat on his head, the jaunty angle giving him a playful air. “Come on. Forget about that game you play for a night. It’s nothin’ compared to real life. Ruby said she and Charlie are cookin’ blackened catfish for the crew and I don’t wanna be late. Gideon’s so big he must spend his whole salary just keepin’ himself fed.” Tugging the door closed behind them, Bix inserted the key and turned it. The slight breeze from the river made the afternoon heat more bearable. “The more the merrier, I say.”

  Austin said nothing. He didn’t know how to explain that he’d gone through the front of the store for a specific reason. The apartment above By the Book had its own entrance around the back and there was no reason for him to wander through the foyer of the antique bookstore― unless he had an apology to make to one young, dark-haired employee. Maybe he’d get a chance at dinner. He was inserting himself into a happy meal between friends just for the chance. The look in her eyes had haunted him all afternoon.