Only Through Love: A Cane River Romance Novella

by Hathaway, Mary Jane

  “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 settled 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. “Yeah.”

  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 passed 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, th
ough, 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 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.”

  “Remember books? But so few people read. Or they read only the new stuff.” He motioned to a thousand page book with a green dragon on the cover.

  “Every good book holds truth in it. The first year Charlie worked here, she nagged at me until I read that series. I still have it on my shelf. I’m sure a critic would reduce it to a coming of age story, or something about a boy discovering how special he is. But for me, it’s all about remembering our family, our past, and the things we once believed about ourselves before we got beat down and discouraged.”

  Austin stared at the cover and thought of his parents. They’d waited for Gideon to get out of prison, never forgetting their adopted son for a moment, even when he’d committed a terrible crime. He thought of the way they always treated Tom like their child, rather than placing him on a pedestal in the clouds now that he was a pastor. And as for Austin, they always told him how proud they were of him, but never made him feel as if he had to reach some exalted job position in order to make them happy. He was their son and they held him close even when he’d been at school or during the long back packing trip he’d taken one summer. They passed down their wisdom, their traditions, their faith. They remembered. And he’d failed to honor that.

  “Look at me, giving you a big speech when you just wanted some reading material.” Alice’s face had gone pink. “Never ask a bookstore owner why she sells books, right?”

  “Thank you.” He took the whole set from the shelf. “I’ll take these.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to buy those just because of my speech. I’m sorry I cornered you in here.” She held up a hand as if she wasn’t going to let him take the books. “I can get so passionate that I completely forget my manners. You should ask Paul about the first time we met. I accused him of being a book murderer and then tried to throw him out of the store.”

  He laughed, trying to imagine sweet-faced Alice, now with a baby in her arms, throwing anybody out of her store. “But he came back.”

  “He did. He actually moved into the apartment you’re renting.” She smiled, a softness in her eyes.

  “And when you saw him all the time, you just fell in love?” He’d heard that opposites attract but he couldn’t think of anything worse than fighting with a woman for a few decades, no matter how cute she was.

  “Not quite. I’m actually starting t
o wonder about that apartment. First Paul. Then Henry.” She cocked her head and fixed him with a unfocused look, as if she were seeing into his future. “Anyway, I guess I finally realized life was easier when you plow around the stump, instead of over it, although it took me a good while to stop fighting him and just listen.”

  Austin felt like he’d missed a step somewhere. It had been a long, hard day and right about now, a hot meal and a good book sounded just right. Rather than ask for a details, he just nodded.

  “Here,” she said, switching gears again, “borrow the first one and see if you like it.”

  “You run a bookstore, not a library. I think we’ve been over this.”

  “Silly.” She took the book from his hand and walked toward the register. “There have to be some perks to living in this old place, right? Paul complains that the wifi is about as fast as smoke signals.”

  “I have noticed a bit of a lag.” He followed her back to the desk. The building was beautiful and so much nicer than anything his college friends had at the moment. Now he was getting free books. Just like his job, he seemed to have lucked into a situation much better than he deserved. People said cheaters never prosper. Apparently, that wasn’t a hard and fast rule.

  Alice gently placed Aurora in the playpen and put the book in a bag. “Let me know what you think.” She stopped, reconsidering. “Actually, if you hate it, don’t tell me. I love this book. I might get offended.”

  “I’ll be sure to make up a glowing critique.”

  “I bet it’s on Cliffs Notes,” she said, laughing. “Or you could just ask Charlie to write you a little treatise on its finer points. I’ll never know.”

  He took the bag from her and forced a smile. Of course Alice was just making a joke, but Austin wondered if there was something in his face that said he was simply blowing smoke and crafting pretty phrases wherever he went. “Thanks again.”

  “Anytime,” she said and he could tell she meant it. As he walked out the back entrance and up the wooden staircase to the upstairs apartments, he felt his spirits sink lower and lower. Just when he convinced himself it was all in the past, it showed up again, hovering at the edges of every conversation and every new friendship. He was a cheater and a thief, no matter how hard he tried to forget.