These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance

by Hathaway, Mary Jane

  “Let me go. That door is a bear to open and I’m headed home anyway,” Gideon said.

  “Don’t you live out by Lac Terre Noire?” Clark asked.

  “Sure do. But it’s no trouble at all.” He looked at his watch. “If I find them, I can drop them by this evening.”

  “Sure, that sounds fine.” She suddenly remembered Blue Chalfant. “Oh, wait, I’ll be gone around seven, but any time before that is fine.”

  “Where are you going?” Patsy asked. “I was hoping we could have dinner.”

  “I… I have a date, actually.”

  “A date? You never date. You hate dating. When did you start dating?” Patsy was giving her a look of total confusion.

  “I just met him. This morning. We’re going to have ribs at The Red Hen.” It sounded like she was on the hunt for a man. She bit her lip and focused on brushing back Jack’s wispy hair, hoping everyone would refocus on something else.

  “I’ll leave them at the desk in By the Book,” Gideon said and he was gone.

  Henry shifted Jack to her other hip and turned back to the pamphlets. For some reason her stomach was twisting in on itself. She could practically feel Denny and Patsy exchanging pointed looks. Well, it wasn’t what they thought. Gideon had asked her to be part of his project and she was thrilled to have her name attached to it in any way. If she had to endure some pointed looks or teasing, that was fine. She’d gone through worse in graduate school. She was determined to make a name for herself, to be one of the top Southern history experts, and no amount of whispering or nudging of elbows would deter her from it.

  Chapter Seven

  “The truth." Dumbledore sighed.

  "It is a beautiful and terrible thing,

  and should therefore be treated with great caution.”

  ― J.K. Rowling

  Gideon turned the knob of the basement door and nothing happened. He took a step back and threw his shoulder against the thick oak panel. It opened with the screech of wood-on-wood and he stepped into the dark basement. Walking from the bright sunshine into the cool, damp room was usually a relief but today it felt claustrophobic.

  Grabbing a lantern, he quickly lit the wick and replaced the glass. He searched around the chair, sweeping a hand around the dirty floor. Henry had left the top of the table clear, with only two pens placed side by side, perfectly straight. He held up the lamp, looking around the room, trying to remember where she’d stood and what she’d touched, but all he could see was her a few minutes ago.

  There was a tightness in his chest. It was absurd. He wasn’t the jealous type. In fact, he wasn’t the type to care much at all, for anyone. His reaction to Henry’s date was completely out of line. Add in the way she carried that baby, and there was reason for him to care at all what she did in her off hours. They were opposites, clearly wanting different things out of life.

  He paced the length of the basement, searching the floor for any glimmer of metal. A few weeks ago, he’d thought he needed some more time on the river. But he hadn’t followed through and here he was, dealing with the fall out. He wasn’t as good at understanding human behavior as Tom was, but he knew when he was losing his grip. As soon as he got back to his office, he’d call Tom or Bix and make sure they got out on the river. Or he’d go alone. He needed to get out of his routine, force himself to stop thinking, at least for a day.

  A few minutes later, he’d covered the whole basement. She must have left them in her apartment. It was probably nothing. Natchitoches was one of the safest cities in the state. There was really no reason to suspect anything other than misplaced keys by someone who was probably still unpacking and getting organized.

  He locked the door behind him and took the basement stairs two at a time to the sidewalk. He’d stop in at By the Book and let Charlie know he hadn’t found anything. A part of Gideon knew that a simple phone call would be faster, but for some reason he really didn’t want to talk to Henry at that moment.

  The historic district was bustling with tourists in town for the Zydeco Festival that weekend and the sight of the little families gave him a little twinge of sadness. He focused his gaze above their faces, somewhere up near the horizon.

  “Gideon!”

  Tom waved from halfway down the block, a stack of books under one arm and trotted to catch up. “I went by your office but they said you left for the― Whoa.” He stopped short and a middle aged couple let out matching squawks of impatience and side-stepped him, tossing irritated looks as they went on their way.

  “You... your…” Tom’s eyes were wide, he seemed too stunned to speak.

  He rubbed a hand over his face. “It was time for a change.”

  Tom nodded. “I just… haven’t seen you without it since we were kids.”

  Gideon looked out toward the river, knowing what Tom wasn’t saying. By the time Gideon had agreed to let Tom come visit, he’d grown into a man.

  “So are you headed home? I have to drop these off at the basilica and then we can grab a bite at The Red Hen.”

  “Sure. But not The Red Hen. Let’s try someplace new.”

  Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Is your newfound need for change going to affect my ability to get some ribs? I may have to lodge a complaint.”

  “No. I just felt like―”

  “A change. I got it.” Tom fixed him with a look. Gideon was several inches taller and about forty pounds heavier, but at that moment, he felt small. But he couldn’t explain. He didn’t completely understand it himself.

  “Listen, it’s not a big deal. We can eat there if you want.” Gideon started back down the sidewalk.

  Tom fell into step beside him but it was several minutes before conversation returned. Gideon felt the weight of his refusal to explain, but he really didn’t want to get into another discussion about Henry.

  But it was as if Tom knew just what sore spot to prod. “How did it go last night?”

  Gideon didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t know what Tom meant. “Good. She was worried about the sticky door so I stayed.”

  “Stayed? You worked together?”

  He sighed. “Yes, Tom, every now and then I act like a regular human being and carry on a conversation, while looking pleasant and not acting on my urge to live as complete hermit.”

  “Hey, no offense. You both just made such a big deal out of working separately,” Tom said. “But you won’t be doing that again, right? She’s got her key and here you are working on the papers in the middle of the day. End of the regular human being act. Won’t happen again.”

  “You’re trying to irritate me and it’s not working.”

  “Am I?” His tone was carefully innocent but Gideon could hear the laughter underneath. “So what are you doing downtown?”

  “When I dropped off a copy of the key today―”

  “Where? Oakland Plantation?”

  “Right. I was running some errands and thought it would be easiest to bring it by.”

  Tom made a noise in the back of his throat and Gideon ignored him.

  “She said she lost her keys and I offered to come back here and look. I didn’t find them and now I’ll stop in at By the Book and let Charlie or Bix or someone know. There, now you have the entire story. Happy?”

  “Very.”

  “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with her. She’s all you ever ask about anymore.” Gideon was hoping to shame Tom into giving up his nosy questions but the man was impervious.

  “You have to admit she’s the most interesting thing to happen around here since Alice Augustine sued Paul Olivier to keep him out of the Historic District.” Tom paused, a sly tone creeping into his voice. “And I called that one way before they decided to stop publically hating each other.”

  “You did, that’s true. You and Bix and half of Natchitoches. Maybe I would have, too, if I’d wanted to stick my nose into someone else’s love life.” Tom loved the happy stories, the engagements and weddings and babies. He lived in constant anticipation of some im
pending celebration. Gideon existed in a constant state of conviction that nothing was forever and most of those people would rue the day they ever joined themselves to another human being.

  “Can we please talk about something else? Anything else. How’s the Zydeco Festival Committee? Anybody threaten to report you to the bishop yet? Usually things get pretty tense this close to the festival.”

  “Surprisingly, nobody has. Last year was a little crazier when two of the bands canceled but this year has been smoother than smooth. Except for Frank Pascal, actually. That man could pick a fight with a fencepost.”

  Gideon had decided to ignore the comment about Henry’s grandfather, but as they turned a corner, there Henry was, walking toward them, only a few feet away. He was doomed to be thrown into her path over and over. Her hair was coming loose from her ponytail and she was carrying a large paper bag in each arm. Her glasses were sliding down her nose and she nudged them up with her shoulder. She clearly hadn’t changed for her date yet, since she was still wearing the bright red dress from earlier that day. As they got closer, he could see a little frown line between her brows and she looked overwhelmed, worried.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “What?” Gideon said.

  “I said there’s Henry and she looks like she needs a hand.” Tom was already moving to intercept her and Gideon followed, wishing he could find some reason to go the other direction. He hoped she wasn’t going to talk about her date, and then he was ashamed of himself. Henry was the same person he’d passed an evening with yesterday, sorting old letters and documents. He’d enjoyed everything she’d had to say then. Nothing had changed.

  Tom took a paper bag in one arm and was already waving off Henry’s protests.

  “But now you’re carrying books and a bag of groceries while I only have one bag,” she said, laughing.

  “Well, then give Gideon the other bag,” Tom said.

  “No way,” she said, shaking her head when Gideon reached for it. “I’d have none and feel twice as indebted. I’d rather Gideon felt lazy and unhelpful.”

  He had to smile at her teasing, since that was very close to what he was feeling at that moment.

  “And weren’t you two going the other direction? You don’t have to turn around just for me,” she said.

  “It’s really not a problem,” Gideon said.

  “Especially since he’s not carrying anything,” Tom said.

  “Did you get a chance to check the basement? If not, it’s not a problem. I’ll go over there right after I drop these off.”

  “I looked but I didn’t see anything. Could they be in your apartment?”

  She shook her head. “I looked everywhere this morning and last night. I just hate to call Alice and tell her we need to change the locks. I must be her worst tenant ever.”

  Tom chuckled. “I’m pretty sure Paul has you beat there. But don’t be afraid to call her. As long as you didn’t destroy anything, she’ll likely be very understanding about it.” He shifted the books under his arm and waved off Gideon’s attempt to take them from him.

  “I’m not that type of person. Forgetful, irresponsible.” The tight line of her mouth underlined her words.

  “I think it’s better if you call her sooner, rather than later,” Gideon said.

  She nodded glumly as they turned the corner onto the busy river walk.

  “We’ll see you out on the dance floor this weekend, I hope,” Tom said. “Your grandfather takes his role on the planning committee very seriously.”

  “Of course,” Henry said, but she didn’t have the look of a woman who was looking forward to a dance. Gideon wondered if Henry didn’t enjoy dancing, or if she was worried about Kimberly Gray making an appearance.

  A large man stepped directly into her path and Gideon tensed, almost jumping between them. He’d been so intent on her expression he hadn’t seen Barney Sandoz on the sidewalk. “Miss Byrne.” Sandoz’s button up shirt was stained with sweat at the armpits.

  “How do you do?” Henry nodded to him and Gideon noted the faintest flicker of distaste in her expression.

  “Honey, you never called me about those excavation projects you have goin’ on,” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest, not bothering to greet Tom or Gideon.

  “And why would she do that?” Gideon asked.

  Sandoz turned slowly in his direction. “Sure, she could call any ol’ historian but she’d best be calling me because she needs someone trustworthy.” He enunciated the word as if Gideon were hard of hearing.

  “Hey, now,” Tom said, shifting his feet. Gideon glanced at him. Did he think they were going to have a fistfight over Henry?

  “Miss Byrne, you should be a mite more careful of the company you keep,” Sandoz said, not breaking eye contact with Gideon. “People in this lil ol’ town will talk. You’re playin’ a dangerous game, even if you’re out in public and being chaperoned by a man in a dog collar.”

  Gideon could hardly hear over the blood rushing in his ears. Bringing up Gideon’s past was fine, but Sandoz was treading on thin ice when he brought Tom into it.

  “Thank you for your advice, Mr. Sandoz,” Henry said and walked away. She didn’t look back to see if Gideon or Tom were following her.

  Sandoz opened his mouth as if to call after her and then seemed to change his mind. His face went dark and he shook his finger inches from Gideon’s nose. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. I know what you’ve done and who you are. You can’t fool me. I know the truth.”

  Gideon felt his insides turn cold. Once upon a time he’d thought he’d known the truth, and he was still dealing with the fall out from his choices then. “What are you talking about? What truth?”

  “You know what I mean.” Sandoz spat the words in his direction and walked away.

  Gideon felt Tom’s hand on his arm. “Let it go,” he murmured.

  “What did he mean?” He could hear the fear in his own voice.

  “It’s nothing. He’s trying to get you riled up. Don’t pay him any mind.” Tom said. “Let’s take Henry’s groceries home and then we can get out of this crowd.”

  He looked up, seeing for the first time the curious gazes of several people who had stopped to watch the argument. Shame washed over him and he nodded. It had been a long time since anyone had ever been able to get under his skin that way.

  A minute later, they caught up with her just as she reached her door.

  “I’m so sorry―” she started.

  “I apologize―” Gideon said.

  He stopped and let out a breath. “I apologize for getting you into that.”

  “Into what?” She shifted the bag onto her other hip. “Barney Sandoz is a very unpleasant person and possibly a thief, although I can’t prove it.”

  “A thief?” Tom asked.

  “He wants to be part of the excavation project without really saying why. He talks around me instead of to me. My mamere says people like that could find a loophole in a stop sign and I don’t want him near my crew.” She looked fierce and Gideon wondered how Sandoz had the guts to approach her more than once. “Again, I can’t prove it but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s looking for something to steal. Early Americana items are worth a pretty penny on the antique market. I’ve got better sense than to let someone without credentials walk onto out our site and start digging around.”

  Intuitive. Insightful. He thought of Patsy’s delighted smile at his guesses. Henry had good sense, but maybe it was more than that.

  “Anyway, I’m sorry you had to be part of that ugliness.” She ran a free hand over her hair. “Thank you for giving me a hand, Father Tom. I appreciate it.”

  “Not a problem,” he said, handing over the bag. “Are you making a pot of jambalaya for St. Augustine’s jambalaya feed? It’s in late October. I think we’ll have quite a crowd. You like to cook, right?”

  “Of course,” she said and then looked up into Gideon’s eyes.

  He lifted an eyebrow. N
ot more than twenty four hours ago, she’d told him she couldn’t cook at all.

  “I mean, Gideon offered to lend me a hand. We’ll bring two pots.” He could hear the laughter lurking in her words.

  Tom looked from Henry to Gideon. “Is that so?”

  “It is. Just so,” he said. He loved the way Henry’s eyes scrunched up when she was trying not to laugh.

  “Well, lookey, it’s a party and I wasn’t invited,” Blue Chalfant said, coming toward them. Gideon covered his surprise. That was the second time in less than an hour that someone had walked up to him and he hadn’t noticed until they were only feet away.

  Blue shook hands with Tom and Gideon, beaming around at the group, his gaze resting on Henry.

  “Hi, Blue. How’s the new practice coming along?” Tom asked.

  Bernice had bragged for weeks when her nephew had come home to Natchitoches and opened his law office. Gideon liked to hear young people were returning to the Cane River area as much as the next person, but he hoped they weren’t in for a long lecture on his practice.

  “It’s been a great day, Father Tom. I just signed another client and I’ve got a date. We’re going for ribs at The Red Hen.”

  Henry’s face went pink and she glanced back at the door. “And I’m nowhere near ready, so I’d better get going.”

  The pieces fell together and Gideon suddenly wished they’d never run into Henry, never walked her back to her apartment, never seen Blue Chalfant, standing there in all his eagerness and optimism. Gideon wondered what she thought when she looked at the three of them together. A lawyer, a priest, and a murderer walk into a bookstore...

  “Can I help you bring those upstairs?” Blue was already reaching for the door.

  “Nope, I’m perfectly able to handle it from here.” She softened her words with a smile. “Thank you,” she said, and then looked from Blue to Gideon and Tom. “All of you.”

  “Anytime,” Tom said.

  They stood there for a moment, watching her disappear inside. This door alone you might not open, and you did. She said she hated first dates and all the prying questions, but maybe Blue was an exception. He could see why.