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

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  “Vicious?” Rose asked. The cat’s green eyes were fixed on her unwaveringly. Rose put a protective hand over Emily Jane’s little face.

  “Shoot, Blue’s just pullin’ your leg. Darcy’d never hurt a fly. He’s just a little aloof,” Bix said.

  “Too proud to join the unwashed masses,” Paul said. “She really needs to meet Mr. Rochester. He’s a character. Or he was until Alice took him to the vet and got him a personality adjustment.”

  “Let’s not introduce them to her all at once. It’s a bit overwhelming,” Alice said. She sounded a little worried.

  Rose almost laughed out loud. It wasn’t overwhelming to consider caring for newborn twins and a two year old, but it was too much to meet some bookstore cats? She liked this place, and these people, more than she’d liked anything or anyone for a long time. The next moment she thought of all the reasons they could send her away, and reminded herself to stay guarded.

  She glanced at Paul, trying to get a better idea of the man. He’d stepped closer to Alice and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Alice leaned into him, wrapping an arm around the fussing baby in his arms. Rose really didn’t want to get in the middle of an unhappy marriage, and so far, Alice and Paul seemed deeply in love. They were friendly and affectionate in front of their friends and store customers. Rose didn’t sense the kind of awkward strain that sometimes was so apparent in marriages under stress, and a couple working two successful businesses while parenting three young kids would definitely be under stress.

  “Well, I’d better go straighten up the paperback section. Charlie told me the room had quite a few visitors today,” Bix said. He navigated through the play area and gave Aurora a hug. “Take care, polar bear.”

  He smiled in Rose’s direction. “And it was real nice meet Blue’s new neighbor. I look forward to gettin’ to know you better.”

  “It was nice to meet you, too.” Rose said, but there was something in Bix’s tone made Rose glance around the group. Paul was grinning and Alice was a little too focused on Elizabeth’s tiny hand. Rose stifled a sigh. For too long she’d lived in a world of gossip and subtext and hidden alliances. It was clear that she’d be an outsider if she got the job. She’d thought that Blue could be an ally, but after Alice had mentioned the other apartment, his attitude had changed. Even now, he looked like he could barely contain his irritation.

  “I’m a great neighbor. You won’t even know I’m there,” Rose said to Blue. She hadn’t expected a bouquet of daffodils but he was really taking this need for privacy a bit too far. Of course it was annoying that the town was already trying to set them up together, but that wasn’t Rose’s fault. Plus, she wasn’t the insta-love type. She didn’t know or care who Blue was or what he did, so he could stop being so worried about her being in his space.

  “Oh, I’m sure,” Blue said. “It’s fine. Really.” His cheeks had turned pink and Rose felt a little satisfaction in the idea that he was ashamed of his behavior.

  “Don’t mind him. He just doesn’t like change,” Alice said quickly.

  “I’m the same way myself,” Rose said, hoping she sounded mature and unflappable.

  “I know you are.” She nodded, as if she made perfect sense. “You two are a lot alike.”

  “I’m sure we are,” Blue said agreeably.

  Rose narrowed her eyes, sure for a moment that he was being sarcastic but his expression was sincere. It was highly unlikely they had anything in common, unless he was a lawyer who had ruined his career, been disbarred, and been to jail.

  “I’d better get upstairs and grab some lunch,” Blue said. He gave a small shrug, as if in apology, and was gone.

  So much in common. Rose kept her expression carefully neutral as Blue walked away. Of course Alice would think that. Alice only saw the nice clothes Rose had borrowed from her sister, the high-end leather satchel Rose had bought when she was made partner at the firm five years ago, and the excellent genes that kept her skin and hair passably attractive despite a total lack of a beauty regimen. Wait until Alice saw the garish pink Pinto, the battered suitcase that held all of her earthly possessions, the prescription medication for depression, and the stack of newspaper articles declaring her the most despicable woman alive. Then Alice would clearly see that Rose had zero point zero in common with happy and successful Blue Chalfant.

  Chapter Five

  “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”

  ― Søren Kierkegaard

  Blue sniffed the faintly acrid air and bolted up from his chair, knocking over his pot of ink. He set it upright, a growl slipping from his lips and rushed into the kitchen. For the tenth time, he’d forgotten the timer on the old toaster was broken and only remembered when he smelled smoke. Plucking the overcooked bread from the toaster, he tossed it on a plate, blowing on his singed fingers. Yanking open the kitchen window and started fanning the smoke alarm with a section of newspaper. If he set off the alarm, Alice might come up to make sure he was okay, and then he’d be stuck in another awkward conversation.

  He wondered how Rose’s interview was going. Of course she’d get the job. She seemed more than capable with the babies, spoke Creole French, and was clearly versed in the classics. But more than that, Rose was beautiful and Alice had practically admitted that she’d handpicked Rose to be his wife. Unless Rose did something shocking or backed out of the position, Alice was probably already planning their wedding. The idea was bizarre and ludicrous and so perfectly Alice that he had to laugh a little bit. Paul liked to say that Alice didn’t march to her own drummer, she had a whole separate band.

  Blue stared at the blackened slices, picking off a few burned sunflower seeds. Sunshine Bakery made the best bread he’d ever had and when the breeze was just right, he could smell it from his kitchen window. He’d just burned slices of his favorite seven grain bread, though his mama said that a real man ate biscuits, not what she called “nuts and twigs”. Blue didn't argue with her. He didn’t argue with either of his parents. The power his father wielded socially and professionally, his mother commanded in the emotional arena.

  Blue turned on the faucet and tried to wash the ink from his fingers, anger and frustration making his stomach churn. He couldn’t really face the mess on his desk at the moment. He’d been working on that piece for weeks. His high school fascination with Civil War documents had turned to a yearning to be a master penman. He’d given it up for several years since it took time, focus, and the belief he’d improve eventually. Unpacking from his move back to Natchitoches, Blue had spied his calligraphy set and instructionals, and the desire had returned full force. Lee Chalfant didn’t believe it was a manly profession despite the fact that nine of the twelve current master penman were male.

  Now it was just one more thing Blue didn’t talk about. With anybody.

  He looked in the fridge for something else to eat but it was as bare as a fridge could be when its owner never bought groceries. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Living in Natchitoches wasn’t the same as it had been a few years ago. Something had changed. He had changed, as if that small glimpse of professional and personal freedom had tilted the world on its axis.

  Last night’s dinner conversation repeated in his head. His parents had both weighed in on a dozen different topics, ending on the fact he was renting an apartment and insisting he needed to buy a house as soon as possible. His mama declared that no woman would want a man who didn’t have his own home and she raised him better. His father ranted about how he was wasting money to pay rent, instead of building equity, and he was being a fool with his money. Blue’s older sister had sat there silently, her dark brown eyes focused on her plate, mouth fixed in a carefully neutral line. Carrie had given him a sympathetic look once or twice but hadn’t tried to intercede. He hadn’t expected her to. He wouldn’t have if their roles had been reversed, and they often were. In the Chalfant family, it was every man for himself.

  His cell phone rang and Blue checked the dis
play. His secretary, probably wondering where he was. Letting it go to voicemail, he made a quick peanut butter sandwich, tucked it in a plastic bag, and grabbed an apple. When he’d first moved back to the little town, he’d imagined enjoying the ribs and slaw at The Red Hen, or the crawfish etouffee at The Pastime Café. LaFayette had great food but it just wasn’t the same as the dishes he’d grown up with, the servers and patrons he’d known all his life. But now that he was here, he’d only found time to make sandwiches and sit through dinner with his parents. Not that the food was bad at home. Not at all. Their cook, Mrs. Taylor, was a genius in the kitchen. She even made his favorite every Friday, just like she had when he lived at home. He looked forward to the fried chicken in a way that bordered on sinful, but the dinner table conversation left a lot to be desired. It was a bad sign when Mrs. Taylor’s buttermilk fried chicken with her secret recipe of spices wasn’t enough to tempt him home.

  Sliding his phone into a pocket, Blue headed for the door, stepping around a stack of boxes he’d been meaning to unpack for months. Rose would probably be unpacked and entertaining friends in no time. He paused, thinking of all the times he’d been invited to Alice and Paul’s, or Gideon and Henry’s, or Bix and Ruby’s. He hadn’t asked a single soul up to his place, or asked anyone to meet him for coffee. Maybe part of his discontent was brought on by his own antisocial behavior. The apartment certainly was nice enough for entertaining.

  The wrought iron fixtures and exposed brick walls gave it a rustic feeling, like living in a castle. The long windows flooded the rooms with light, the river down below reflecting the sun onto the ceilings. It was an incredible place, worth much more than Alice and Paul asked for rent. Practically upstairs from his office, above one of the finest bookstores in the country, and tied to the Cane River area like few other spots, Blue was thrilled to have such a prime piece of Natchitoches real estate. Or he would be, if he could get his family situation sorted out.

  Closing the door behind him, Blue tried to tell himself that he’d settle in, that everything would be brighter and fresher once he’d adjusted to the move. It was just taking a little time to find his place. It was hard to take up the mantle of the dutiful son when he’d only been playing that role on the weekends. He needed to find some balance.

  Making his way down the long hallway toward the back stairs, Blue had to admit the problem was more than family obligations cutting into his free time. Being told when to show up for dinner, what to wear to a garden party he didn’t want to attend, or where to sit in church was not the real issue. It was what was happening in his office.

  As if on cue, his phone rang again and he sighed, knowing it was his secretary before he answered.

  “Mr. Chalfant? Your father is here with a client.”

  Blue stopped at the top of the stairs. He’d already been forced to take on three of his father’s friends this month. “A new client or an old client?”

  There was a silence. He could almost see Cyndi LeMarche’s ruby red lips pursing into a frown. Cyndi hadn’t been Blue’s first choice. Even in the interview, she’d had a condescending attitude that had struck him as off-putting and aggressive. But his father had insisted that the daughter of his good friend Frank was the right person for the job, and because Blue couldn’t point to anything concrete, he’d acquiesced. He’d regretted it almost immediately, and every day since.

  “No, never mind. Doesn’t matter. I’ll be there in two minutes.” Blue hung up and stood for a moment, head down, a deep sense of dread filling his limbs. He’d never liked how his father chased after power and influence. He’d watched him bow and scrape to wealthier men, without any thought to whether they deserved his respect. Decades of pandering to the men in the highest position of power had made his father the lawyer of choice for rich men with big problems. He’d made a fortune, and never had to worry about traffic tickets or audits. When his lack of ethics had caught up with him, his father had promptly taken an early retirement to avoid any more scandal.

  At the time, Blue had wondered why his father gave up practicing law so easily. Sure, he was comfortably well off, but his ambition couldn’t possibly be sated with an exclusive country club membership and a few parties at the governor’s mansion.

  But then Blue had walked into his office six months ago and saw his father standing there with Jimmy Desmond, disgraced head of the Fireman’s Association. Desmond had siphoned off millions from the fund for widows and children of firemen killed in the line of duty, resigned, and charged with embezzlement. If he’d fought harder that day, fought against taking on Desmond’s case and refused to represent a client he knew was guilty, he wouldn’t be in the position he was in now. But Blue hadn’t. And now his whole life was wrapped up in defending men he wouldn’t give the time of day.

  Blue closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, wishing he didn’t have to go back to his office at all. Maybe he shouldn’t go back ever again. He’d close his practice, move to another city, try to start again, quietly. He wasn’t the kind to run away, but maybe that was the only way out of this mess.

  “Blue?”

  He turned, recognizing the voice and already working to put on a smile. “Hey, there. Coming to check out the apartment?”

  Rose nodded. For a moment, he thought she might ask why he’d been slumped against the wall like a tired, old man. She sniffed the air. “Is something burning?”

  He held up the bag with his sandwich. “Lunch, take two. I’m stuck with PB&J, I guess.”

  “Ugh. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Why? Not your fault.” He knew it was just an expression, but Rose looked like she’d taken his culinary failure personally.

  “If we hadn’t kept you so long downstairs you’d have time to try again.”

  “Oh, no, it’s really nothing.” He wanted to add that taking a break to hold the twins or color with Aurora was sometimes the best part of his day. He didn’t, though. Even a nanny might find that a little odd. Grown men didn’t schedule time for holding other people’s babies.

  “You have something on your shirt,” she said and pointed to a place near his waist.

  The lake of spilled ink hadn’t been confined to his artwork. Blue sighed as he looked down at the tiny splatters of dark blue. “You’ve got good eyes.”

  “Are you an artist? Is that why you have ink on your fingers?”

  “No. I was writing something down.”

  Rose’s brows went up. “Very violently, apparently.”

  “The opposite of violently, but I’m clumsy, so…”

  “Still here?” Alice appeared at the end of the hallway. She was holding a baby and Blue guessed it was Emily Jane since the little girl wasn’t screaming. Aurora trailed behind her, swinging a Raggedy Andy doll by the arm.

  “Just heading out, actually. There’s a new client waiting, so…” He could see Alice forming a response before he was even finished speaking. He tried to think of something, some way to distract Alice from whatever she was going to say, since he was fairly sure that it included an invitation that would include his new neighbor. He crouched down, holding out his arms, and waited to see if Aurora would give him a hug. She was notoriously stingy in handing out her affection, which made it all the sweeter when she did. To his surprise, she walked up and put her hands lightly around his neck, pressing her cheek to his. He patted her gently on the back and then let go.

  Rose gave him a wide-eyed look and mouthed, “Jealous.”

  He guessed Aurora hadn’t warmed up to Rose yet. “You should be,” he said.

  Aurora wandered back toward the open door of the other apartment. Alice passed the baby to Rose as if intending for her to continue her conversation with Blue, while Alice went to watch Aurora. Blue had a sudden urge to run down the stairs before she could say anything. He’d just met Rose an hour ago and he liked her. Maybe not in the way Alice wanted, but he liked her just the same and nothing killed a budding friendship faster than feeling obligated.

  No, he n
eeded to head that off at the pass. Plus, the way people went on about it, she’d start to think he was desperate. It wasn’t a secret that he’d fallen hard for Henry, but he certainly didn’t want every new acquaintance to get the mistaken impression he was pining after a lost love.

  He took a step toward the stairs and Alice said, “You should come to dinner on Friday. We haven’t had you over in weeks.”

  “Did you ask Emmaline Corrie to the dance?”

  “No, sir. She… I don’t think she likes me.”

  “Doesn’t matter if she likes you. It’s just a dance..”

  “But she’d have a better time with somebody she―”

  “Get on over there and ask her before someone else does. She’s obliged to go with you if you’re the first to ask!”

  Blue glanced at Rose’s face and knew without asking that Rose had already agreed to dinner on the same night. He felt his shoulders go tight. Alice had no idea what she was doing.

  Rose whispered to Emily Jane. “Strange. I was invited, too. I think they just want to sit down to eat for once.” Her tone was light and the irritation he felt faded away at the smile in her eyes. Rose wasn’t going to suffer through the matchmaking in silence.

  He let out a breath and smiled back. “Sure, sounds great.”

  Somehow, getting it out in the open took the sting out of it all. Maybe it would just be something silly, something they would all laugh about when Alice finally realized her plan hadn’t worked.

  Chapter Six

  “No man is rich enough to buy back his past.”

  ― Oscar Wilde

  Alice practically clapped her hands and Rose couldn’t help feeling a little amused. It had been a long time since anyone had thought she was a catch. Her sister had always been on the look-out for an eligible man, even after Rose had started dating Richard. That had ended with the crash.