“Oh, you.” Alice rolled her eyes. “You can’t guilt her into coming. That’s what I love about Rose. She’s honest with you. If she wants to come to a low country boil, she’ll come. If she wants to stay home and read, she’ll tell you.”
Rose’s face went warm. “When you put it that way, I sound pretty rude.”
“No, no. She’s right. You’re straight forward. Something I like about you, too.” Paul nodded.
“So, are you coming?” Fr. Tom asked again, running a hand through his curly hair. “I’ve got to get out of these vestments. I’m sweating like a hog. I stand out here any longer and we’re going to have to take funds out of the gumbo feed and put it toward the dry cleaning bill.”
Rose nodded. “I’d like that.” She hadn’t been to a cookout in a long time and the thought of all that good Creole food made her mouth water.
“I heard you were out frog gigging in the river last night. Any chance those legs are gonna make an appearance at the table?” Austin came up behind Fr. Tom and nudged him with an elbow.
Rose tried not to make a face but frog legs weren’t her favorite home-cooked meal.
“Yessir, plenty left,” he said, grinning. “Jake was running the ATV up the bank and Danny Delphin was in the river in the waders. Kid takes after his dad. Those frogs didn’t have a chance between those two.”
“He’s a great cook,” Henry said, as if she read Rose’s mind. “You won’t regret it.”
Henry looked at Gideon and he winked. Rose wondered if there was some story there, and then figured that there was probably a story around every corner. When a couple falls in love, every small occasion plays a part.
“We’re going to head back. See you at dinner,” Alice said. She and Paul retrieved Aurora from Ruby and Bix.
“Be sweet, parakeet,” Bix called, blowing Aurora a kiss.
“Gotta go, buffalo,” Aurora answered, her little face marred with a frown. Rose wondered if she’d sleep in the car, or if they’d be enjoying Aurora’s bad mood during the cookout.
She watched them head toward the parking lot where their station wagon was parked next to her battered, hot pink Pinto. Aurora called it her “coloring car” since she was sure that Rose had taken markers to it and fixed it up herself. Alice had never said a word but Paul grinned every time he saw it. Rose didn’t hold it against him. It was a goofy excuse for a car and besides, she was starting to feel affection for the ugly old thing.
“I’m off to change,” Fr. Tom said. “And to check to see if the mudbugs have escaped that burlap sack.” He started back inside, pausing to shake hands with a few of the older men still talking by the door.
“Nice to meet you, Rose,” Austin said, and held out a hand. Charlie was beaming, as if she’d been waiting to introduce them.
She shook, wondering what Charlie had told Austin about her. She wasn’t anybody important. Then again, the people of Cane River were just friendly. After years in Boston, she had a hard time remembering what she’d found so wonderful about that city. The kind of welcome that Rose found in Cane River would only have happened in Boston if a person was powerful. Or maybe it was just the company she’d kept. She’d been as power hungry as the rest of them.
“I have a question for you,” Austin said, his blue eyes serious. “I hope you don’t mind me asking here.”
Rose felt a shiver of unease go up her spine.
“Blue said you volunteered with high school students in Baton Rouge, doing Mothers Against Drunk Driving talks.”
Rose nodded, the shiver turning into a blanket of dread.
“I’m a counselor at the Juvenile Justice Center and we’re always looking for volunteers with experience,” Austin said.
“Oh, I don’t think you’d want someone like― I just did some school presentations. I don’t have an experience with kids. Not one on one like that,” she said.
“Well, we’ve had MADD come in before, but only about once a year. We recently got a grant that would educate teens on the dangers of drinking and driving. We’re working hard to pull it all together, especially with Alice and Paul’s connection to it. They’re willing to do some talks, too.”
“Alice and Paul?”
“Because of her parents,” Charlie said.
“Her…?” She knew she was simply repeating them but Rose was lost.
“They died in a drunk driving crash when she was little. She was raised by her grandmother,” Austin said.
Rose felt the ground tilt under her feet. Alice was an orphan because of a drunk driver. Alice, who had welcomed Rose into her home, into her family. Alice, the woman who mothered her children with such grace and tenderness, had lost her own mother before she was grown. Rose swallowed hard, forcing herself not to cry in front of everyone. How could Alice stand Rose? How could she let her touch the girls?
“You didn’t know?” Henry was next to her, gently touching her arm, as if she was ready to hold Rose up if her knees couldn’t support her any longer.
“No,” she whispered. She cleared her throat and spoke louder. “No, she never mentioned it.”
“Well, they’ve donated to the program and Alice said she would come in to talk to the kids,” Austin said, not seeming to notice her distress. Or maybe he thought she was just tender-hearted. “Don’t worry. You wouldn’t have to mentor anyone, not like Gideon does. Maybe just a presentation like you did in Baton Rouge.”
Rose glanced at Gideon. The kids probably never stepped off the straight and narrow with Gideon watching. She knew she wouldn’t. “It really wasn’t much. And I didn’t organize it. I just showed up. And talked.” She could feel her chest getting tight. They were all looking at her, expecting some kind of explanation. “I didn’t… enjoy it.”
There was a silence, and Henry said, “Of course you don’t have to volunteer.” She was giving Austin a look but he didn’t take the hint.
“You should think about it,” he said, smiling.
“I’m just no good with that kind of thing.” She knew she sounded abrupt.
“I’m not sure I’m very good at it, either. But I’m willing to offer what I can. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it doesn’t,” Gideon said.
Henry reached out and took Gideon’s hand, and he looked over, a question in his eyes.
“But you see, you’re―” Rose wanted to point out the difference between them. Gideon was a respected member of the community and Rose was criminal hiding from the world under an assumed name.
“I spent fifteen years in federal prison on a murder charge,” Gideon said.
Rose felt her mouth gape open. Even with the wariness, she hadn’t considered Gideon had a past that was anything other than slightly less than ordinary.
“So, you can see how we love anybody with any experience with troubled youth,” Austin said. He went on about the programs the center offered, how the kids were struggling to get back into school and break the ties with bad friends. Rose half listened, nodding, while inside her mind she was still turning Gideon’s words over and over. It was shocking, true, but it was more than that. She didn’t know how to categorize what she’d heard, it was so far out of her wheelhouse. It made no sense. He said it so matter-of-factly. He was a murderer and he’d admitted it in front of his friends, holding the hand of his wife.
Rose wondered how he’d ever had the courage to say it the first time. And the second and the third. How did he get to the point that he could speak that truth without crumbling under the weight of his guilt?
“Hey, aren’t you that lawyer? The one that got the rich kid off for drunk driving?”
“No, I― I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s you! I recognize you from the news. Know what? If it was up to me, you wouldn’t have had a trial. Know what I’m sayin’? A little vigilante justice would get the job done. You just got a slap on the wrist. It’s not right.”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not her.”
“Honey,
her eyes are glazing over.” Charlie put her arm around Austin’s waist and started to tug him away. “Let the poor girl have her tour. You can come by the bookstore sometime and talk to her about it if she wants. Or she can come see you at the center.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Austin said, shrugging sheepishly. “I get carried away. Just know that the offer is open. All we’d need is a background check and you’d go through the training before we decided on where you’d fit best. See y’all at dinner.”
Rose mumbled her thanks and watched Charlie lead Austin toward the parking lot.
“Sorry about that. He means well,” Henry said.
“It’s fine.” She forced a smile. “It’s really not a problem. Not at all.”
Henry nodded but there was deep sympathy written on her face and Rose was suddenly afraid that Henry knew everything. Her stomach clenched, wondering if she’d been trying to hide the truth from people that already knew. She couldn’t be sure, but surely Austin would have said something. He acted as if Rose was just some good-hearted volunteer who would pass a background check with flying colors.
“Where would you like to start?” Henry asked.
“Oh, you can choose.”
“Let’s head back inside, then,” she said.
“I’m gonna get Bilbo from Tom’s place. Bilbo’s our dog,” he added, seeing Rose’s expression. “I’ll meet you in a bit.”
Rose had been wondering if Gideon was going to help with the tour, too, since he was the head of the parish archives ,and felt guilty for the small sigh of relief that he was leaving. As handsome as he was, his intensity was downright nerve-wracking.
Henry, on the other hand, gave Rose the feeling that nothing bad was going to happen to her if Henry could help it. As they walked into the church, Rose glanced at her, thinking of the way Henry had tried to deflect Austin’s pitch.
“Are you feeling okay?” Rose asked.
Henry grimaced. “Is it that obvious?”
“You just look pale,” she said. “Paler than the day I met you in the bookstore, I mean.”
Henry sank into a pew in the entrance area. “Morning sickness is miserable. And it’s not really morning sickness. It’s all day and all night sickness.”
Rose sat next to her. “Is there anything I can do? Can I get you some water?”
“Thank you, but I just need a minute.” She wiped a hand over her face. “And to think I have another six months to go.”
“I’ve heard the next trimester is easier. Sort of like the downhill section of the roller coaster. After that is the slow, slow climb to the very top.” Rose made a face. “Sorry. That’s not helpful.”
“Probably accurate, though. Alice was really dragging toward the end of hers.” She held up a finger. “No, don’t say it. Gideon’s already made some cracks about twins.”
“Come on,” Rose said, laughing. “Twice the fun.” For some reason, Henry’s jibes about not wanting twins didn’t bother her like the comments she’d heard from strangers in the bookstore.
“They’re adorable, I admit.” Henry let out a breath. “Seriously, I’d be thrilled. Right after I picked myself up off the floor.”
“And Gideon, too.”
Henry’s smile faded a little. “He’s worked hard to get where he is. For a long time he didn’t think he was parent material.”
Rose knew exactly what Gideon felt. She hadn’t been violent toward anyone, but she’d made such bad choices that three beautiful children had died. “What changed his mind? True love,” she said, answering her own question.
“That and a lot therapy. He’s still working through it. Probably will for a long time. But he got to the point― we did, that he thought his anxiety was under control. When we got Bilbo, we were sure. It’s amazing what dogs can be trained to do.”
Rose wondered how anxiety factored into the equation. Murder wasn’t exactly an issue of being too anxious.
“He doesn’t have a temper,” Henry clarified, as if she’d read Rose’s mind. “He lost his baby sister when he was young and he has a lot of fears about not being able to protect a child.”
“Oh,” Rose said. It wasn’t a great response, but she was seeing Gideon in a different light. She had those fears, too. Every so often, she’d be holding one of the twins and fear would rush over her, as if they were in mortal danger. Her heart would pound and her hands would shake. Life could change in an instant. “I don’t know how anybody manages to have kids and not fall apart completely under the looming ‘what ifs’. It must take an act of will just to let them leave the house. Or even take them out in a car.” Her voice was strained.
Henry was quiet for a moment. “I suppose it’s the same leap of faith we make when we fall in love. There’s no guarantee that you’ll get a long life together.”
“Like Bix and Ruby,” she said. “They’re close to ninety.”
“Second marriages, both of them,” Henry said. “If you let Bix talk at you long enough, he’ll tell you how he fell in love with his widowed sister-in-law after his wife died.”
“What?” Rose clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. That was loud.”
Henry grinned. “Isn’t it great? He still talks about his first wife, too. Says he’ll love her ‘til the day he dies.”
She thought of Blue and his love for Henry. Sometimes it was like that, and there was nothing a person could do. You fell in love and next thing you knew, you were sleeping at the crypt, like the Annabel Lee poem, or raging against a raven who says you’re doomed to have a broken heart forever.
Henry said, more softly, “It’s a good thing. Finding love again is a gift.”
“But what if the person isn’t dead? I don’t think you can love two living people at the same time.” Rose realized how bitter she’d sounded. She might as well wear a sign that said “dumped at the altar”.
“I think there are some kinds of love that never fade, not after death and not if the person leaves you. Maybe it’s a question of how that love manifests itself.”
The sound of a car passing nearby made Rose turn her head, and she thought of how odd it was to have this conversation, out of nowhere, in the entryway of the church, with someone she barely knew. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“I guess I mean that love is meant to be shared. And when the person we love is gone, the love has to go somewhere.” Henry stood up and stretched her back. “Sorry for going on and on. I’m usually not this talkative. Tea helps settle my stomach but I think the caffeine is making me overly chatty.”
Rose stood up next to her. “Don’t apologize. It’s been nice. Everyone has been so welcoming here. Alice, Paul, Blue…” Her voice trailed off. Alice had treated her with love, instead of condemnation. Paul had trusted her with his children. And Blue― how she missed his friendship, the way he made her laugh, and their oddball conversations. She missed him.
She caught Henry looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite define. Part surprise, part amusement, and something like hope.
“I’m glad,” she said. “Now, we should go inside and get started. Gideon and Bilbo are probably waiting in the cemetery.”
Rose followed Henry inside the sacristy and tried to focus as she explained the founding of Isle Brevelle, St. Augustine’s church and the history of the Cane River Creole people. She remembered visiting the church a few times in her childhood, mostly to pay her respects to the graves of her great grandparents but she’d never known much about it. Her parents had walked past the plaques and the paintings, and it was simply one more old building in a place with plenty of old buildings.
“The first church was burned by Union forces in 1864, and the next burned, too. But this structure has survived since 1907,” Henry said. “The community couldn’t be moved, no matter what happened to the church building itself.”
At the words, Rose felt a flash of recognition. She’d thought her old self was lost and she’d started over from nothing, but maybe it wasn’t quite true. Maybe it was
just the details that had changed. Her fiancé, her career, her city were all gone, but Rose still remained. She was scarred and saddened, changed irrevocably, but for some reason she hadn’t quit yet.
Looking around at the delicate arches and the simple decorations, Rose felt hope for the first time in a long time.
Chapter Seventeen
“You couldn't erase the past. You couldn't even change it.
But sometimes life offered you the opportunity to put it right.”
― Ann Brashares
Rose pulled up in Fr. Tom’s driveway and parked next to Charlie’s newish silver Honda. She had a flash of memory and momentarily mourned her brand new Lexus, sold to pay her legal fees. It had been a few years, but it was still hard to adjust to being poor. It wasn’t anything she’d been prepared for growing up. She turned off the engine and the Pinto let out a death rattle that was probably heard all the way into the backyard.
Sliding out of the driver’s seat, Rose heard Aurora’s voice carry over the bushes. “Miss Rose!” At least the Pinto was good for something.
The air was thick with the scent of summer: freshly mown grass, the river not far away and the smell of a low country boil. Rose followed her nose to the little gate at the side of the house. She could hear laughter, zydeco music, and Elizabeth crying. A few sharp barks from Patty punctuated the party noise. Or maybe it was Gideon’s dog.
She adjusted the red ribbon she’d tied through the belt loops in her skirt. Alice hadn’t answered when Rose asked about what to wear, so she was left to choose between her usual slacks and nice shirt combo, and something fancier. So she’d pulled out a red silk top and a tailored black skirt she’d worn once back in Baton Rouge. Looking down at the delicately embroidered edge of red thread, Rose wondered if the skirt was too much. There was no time to go back and change, though.
Putting her hand to the latch of the gate, Rose paused. Her stomach was in knots and her palms were sweaty. Around the corner was a group of people she’d come to think of as friends. She wasn’t sure, but there might also be one man who had taught her she was ready to love again.
Along the Cane River: Books 1-5 in the Inspirational Cane River Romance Series Page 114