These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance

by Hathaway, Mary Jane

  He closed his eyes for a moment and the sound of the river magnified. He’d tried to save her that night, when the men had thrown them out into the blackness, the way you throw stones in the creek. He’d heard her crying and somehow found her again in the dark. He’d had only just learned to dog paddle and she was heavy, so heavy, even though she was just a baby. It had been dark and cold, and once he’d let her go, he didn’t see her until the sun rose. He huddled in the roots of an old cypress tree, shaking with fear and shock. The sky lightened a little at a time and he wasn’t sure what he was seeing at first. The splash of color grew pinker as the sun rose until he knew it was Katie Rose there in the weeds, on the other side of the river. He watched her all morning but she never moved, and when the fisherman found him that afternoon, he asked if they had a blanket to wrap her in so she wouldn’t be cold.

  He rubbed his face and was startled for a moment when he didn’t feel the beard under his fingertips. “Did you ever ask Bix if he wanted to go fishing?” Gideon asked.

  “I did,” Tom said. He looked like he was either falling asleep or surfacing from his own long-ago memories. “He says Ruby doesn’t want to miss a single band at the festival this weekend, but any time after Sunday is fine.”

  “Good.” Gideon stood up and stretched, feeling the muscles in his back protest from the long hours on the hard bench. “I need some time on the river, away from everything.”

  Tom followed his cue and stood up, looking toward By the Book. “Well, this has been fun.”

  Gideon snorted. “What does that say about our lives?”

  He gave him a soft punch to the shoulder. “It says you’re good company. Now, go get a few hours of sleep.”

  “You, too,” Gideon said.

  They turned and walked away from each other, the sunlight growing stronger by the minute, the city waking from its sleep. As Gideon made his way back down the sidewalk, shopkeepers were setting out signs and he could smell fresh coffee and beignets from the bakery. A young woman talking on her cellphone came toward him pushing a stroller with one hand. He avoided kids, especially the little ones. It’s not that he didn’t like them. Not at all. Gideon focused on the place far ahead where the sidewalk curved. He could hear the baby’s high voice above the sound of the cars passing and the other pedestrians. As usual, his heart started to pound and he could feel a light sheen of sweat on his skin. It always happened that way. Babies, toddlers, kids. No matter what he told himself, his body interpreted it as a crisis.

  He kept his eyes on the horizon, breathing deeply, working to stay calm. In the end, for a reason he didn’t understand, he looked down just as they came near.

  The baby’s pigtails were tied with pink ribbons that matched her outfit and she pointed out toward the water. “River, river!” Her dark eyes were filled with excitement. Her mother, struggling to push the stroller with one hand and hold a coffee cup in the other, was deep in conversation and didn’t answer

  “River,” he answered. She smiled wide, and the next moment she was gone.

  The rest of the block, Gideon replayed the baby’s bright expression in his memory. Nothing could change what happened to Katie Rose. Nothing he could do would erase the past and bring her back. She would never get to grow up and have a family, never push a stroller while juggling her coffee. She was gone and he had to let her go.

  Again.

  Chapter Nine

  “Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.”

  ― George Orwell

  “Best breakfast in Natchitoches.” Denny leaned back and rubbed his stomach.

  “I’m a little concerned about you,” Henry said. “I’ve never seen anybody put away two platters of biscuits and gravy with a whole side of hash browns and bacon.”

  Patsy wiped Jack’s hands and shook her head. “Don’t worry about him. He eats like that all the time. It’s so annoying. I’m convinced he has a portrait in the attic that’s getting fat while he stays skinny.”

  “I was blessed with good metabolism,” he said, grinning. “Just like my little guy, right?” He reached over and handed Jack a slice of bacon.

  “Hey, he was happy with his hot grits and strawberries,” Patsy said, trying to intercept the bacon. “Let’s wait a little bit to stuff him full of nitrates.”

  Nita appeared at the table and looked around. “Full of what? We only have real food here. Real bacon, real ham, real chitlins, real gizzards.”

  “I know you do, Nita,” Henry said. “Best breakfast in town, Denny was just saying.”

  “And dinner and supper,” Nita said. “Just ask your friend Blue.” She winked at Henry. “He sure is taken with you. I’ll be expectin’ a wedding invitation, ya here? I served y’all on your first date and I gotta take a little credit of for it all.”

  Henry choked back a laugh. “For what all? Nita, you’ll be the first to know if there is any wedding planning but it was just a date. I don’t know where it will go from here. “

  “Mmm-hmmm,” Nita said, one fist propped on her hip. “That’s what they all say and soon we’re countin’ grandbabies.”

  “That’s definitely the way it happened with me,” Denny said. “We had a first date and before I knew it, we were here.” He waved a hand toward Patsy and Jack. He pretended to consider it a moment. “Maybe I should warn Blue to run while he has a chance.”

  Patsy tossed her balled up napkin in his direction.

  “Blue is perfectly capable of running if he feels like it. But I can promise you that when he hears all the rumors he’ll sure think twice about a second date.”

  “Oh, honey, I think it would take a lot more than that,” Nita said. She laid the ticket on the table and sashayed away, throwing a sly look over her shoulder.

  Henry sighed. “Small towns.”

  “The single life,” Denny said.

  “Everybody’s up in your business,” Patsy agreed. “Plus, if you were going to be dating anybody, it would be that Gideon fellow.”

  Henry stared at her, speechless. “And why would that be?” she finally managed.

  “You’re not the only one with crazy good intuition,” Patsy said.

  “Better leave it to the experts,” Henry said. “There’s nothing happening there.” She adjusted her ponytail, wincing a little as she pulled it tight. “And I hate to run, but I’ve got a tour coming through Oakland in an hour. Are y’all busy tonight? I can cook something. You haven’t seen my new place.”

  “You act like I don’t know you at all,” Patsy said.

  Henry started to laugh. “Okay, maybe I won’t be cooking. But we can get take out.”

  “Remember your Aunt Millie asked us over for supper tonight,” Denny said, touching Patsy’s arm. “We could come over in the afternoon and then head over to Millie’s from there.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Patsy ran her fingers through her curly red hair, making it go every which way. “When we come visit we have to be fed in every home of every relative or I get to hear about it. But I really do want to see your place. Maybe around five?”

  “Sounds great,” she said. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

  A few minutes later she was striding back toward her car, the humidity thick as a blanket. She checked her shirt for breakfast stains. It would have been better to stop off at her apartment and freshen up but she’d spent too much time at breakfast. She didn’t mind. Having Patsy and Denny drop in to Natchitoches was like finding out Christmas was coming early.

  Nobody could replace her oldest friend. Henry had forgotten what it was like to talk to someone and not be afraid of the lies. There wasn’t another person like that in her life.

  Except Gideon, her brain corrected. Not that she was completely comfortable around him but she certainly wasn’t afraid of what she was going to hear, and that was miles ahead of everyone else in her life. But that was as far as it went.

  She turned the corner and saw Blue’s office a few feet ahead. The date had gone really well
, nothing like the disasters of her college years. They’d laughed their way through a few hours of good southern food, and then he’d walked her home. At her door, he’d given her a sweet kiss on the cheek and told her how much he’d enjoyed their time together. It was nice. He’d already left a message this morning. She’d go out with him again. There wasn’t any reason not to, really.

  Except Gideon.

  Henry let out a huff of air. She wasn’t going to refuse a nice guy like Blue for a man who hadn’t shown any interest in her at all. He’d invited her to participate in a professional endeavor and for that she was incredibly grateful. Nothing more. She told herself this several times as she came closer to the alley that led to the little parking lot. Gideon, the man whose best friend was a priest, looked perfectly content at the prospect of being a bachelor for life. It would be ridiculous to think of him in any way except a professional one.

  A man’s voice called out behind her and she turned, thinking how funny it was to be thinking of Gideon and then for him to appear as if by magic.

  But it was her granddaddy. And her mamere. And Kimberly.

  “I’ve been callin’ you,” Frank said, eyebrows drawing down. He switched to Creole, as if to bring her back to her childhood, when he was the law and she was that child always in the way. “You never listen, always livin’ up in that head of yours.”

  Henry let out a light laugh. “You know it’s so,” she agreed. She let herself be kissed and hugged by each of them in turn. Switching to English, she said, “What are you doing down here?”

  “Well, that’s not a very nice howdy-do,” her mamere said. She lifted one smooth-skinned shoulder and dropped it again, her figure perfectly showcased in a white linen, sleeveless dress. With her waves of dark hair and deep green eyes, Birdie Pascal was the Creole version of Marilyn Monroe, if the actress had lived to her seventies. She was all curves, with a keen sense for sniffing out the person who held the power in any situation.

  “That’s what I said.” Kimberly cocked her head. “It’s almost as if she doesn’t want to know us.” She was as beautiful as ever, her eyes large and luminous, set over high cheekbones. Henry wondered if Kimberly ever looked less than perfect.

  Frank grunted. “Gettin’ too big for your britches. Barney Sandoz said you won’t let him on the property, that you don’t think he got the qualifications to be involved up there.”

  Henry felt her throat go tight with rage. “I don’t trust Mr. Sandoz. He wants to be part of the excavation but hasn’t told me why he should be there. In fact, he spun some tale about his ancestor owning Oakland Plantation. There’s nothing about that in the archives and the Prud’homme family―”

  “So what? It’s not written in a book so it can’t be right? Don’t forget where you came from, girl. You got a degree and you think you know it all but you only got that position because I put in a good word for you.”

  Lie.

  “No, sir. And I’m sorry. I’m running late.” Henry looked at her watch. If she didn’t hurry, the tour group was going to be waiting for her. She took a breath and then did her best to give each person in front of her what they really wanted. “But we should meet up at the festival this weekend. I’ve heard people saying you’ve kept the whole thing on track, granddaddy. Without Frank Pascal, they said, it would have all fallen apart long ago.”

  He straightened up and nodded. “Glad to hear people have a lick of sense. Some days I feel like I’m trying to work miracles, sorting out all the schedules and making sure everybody’s happy.”

  “And I need some advice on how to decorate my new apartment,” Henry said Birdie. “I can’t decide on white on cream, or white with bright pops of color.”

  “Honey, you don’t even need to ask. Leave it all up to me. I’ll make that old place livable in no time.”

  “Thank you so much,” Henry said, forcing an extra note of enthusiasm, even though her stomach was knotting at the idea of her mamere anywhere near those perfectly preserved vintage fixtures. She’d have to make sure she oversaw every step or the place might end up renovated right out of its historical status.

  She turned to Kimberly and put on her brightest smile. For a moment, she didn’t think she could get the words out. It had never been hard to lie to her before. “It’s so great to see you back here, Aunt Kimberly. I know how hard it is to get time off.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “And what a nuisance it is to deal with all the constant attention. I just don’t know how you handle it. I’d lose my mind if I had to live like that.”

  Kimberly’s eyes went wide and her mouth made a little ‘o’. She really did look like a china doll. “You have no idea. But it’s so worth it, just to see all of you.” Kimberly reached out and gathered in mamere on one side and Henry on the other.

  Henry let herself be squeezed for a moment and then said, “And is my Mama coming to visit this weekend? It’s been so long since the whole family was together.”

  The moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew she’d gone too far. Frank stared up at the sky, while Birdie picked at an imaginary speck on her skirt. Kimberly’s eyes went tight. “I’m sure your Mama’ll come visit some other time. You know, Lisette has always been so jealous of my fame.”

  Lie.

  “Yes, ma’am. But I really do have to go,” Henry said, edging past them and toward her car. “But call me and we’ll make plans.” She threw them a frantic little wave and trotted across the little lot, careful not to turn her ankle on the paving stones.

  She slid behind the wheel and turned the key. They thought they were the only ones who could lie while smiling. She had learned from the best. Years and years of watching the people closest to her had taught Henry the fine art of telling falsehoods. Some sleight of hand, a little flattery, and a quick exit. Nothing to it.

  She tightened her ponytail and rubbed her temples. She did what she had to do to keep the status quo and everyone happy. Everyone except me. Her stomach ached with nerves and she blinked back sudden tears.

  As good as she was, as easily as she lied, she’d never quite learned how to live with herself afterward.

  ***

  Gideon poured another cup of strong coffee and headed back to his desk. He needed to make it through the appointment and then he would leave early. He was getting too old to survive on just a few hours of sleep. Plus, the nap was essential in case he had to take another midnight watch.

  Settling at his desk, he took a sip and burned his tongue. He turned over and over in his mind some way to ask Henry if she’d found her keys but in his muddled state he couldn’t think of any reason to bring up the subject. He wished he knew Alice and Paul better.

  Bix! He set down his cup and picked up the phone. He’d ask Bix to ask Henry… and then report back to him? Gideon put the phone back in its cradle and leaned back in his chair. Bix would think it was odd, at the least.

  A knock on his door shook him from his thoughts. Henry appeared, a cautious look on her face. “Hello,” she said.

  Gideon took in her bright lipstick, her ponytail and glasses, and wondered if it was possible to miss someone you barely knew and had only just seen the day before.

  “Oh, good,” Gideon said. He stood and motioned toward the other chair.

  “Good?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. That wasn’t what I meant to say. I am glad you’re here, of course, but I was thinking about something else when you knocked and it just came out that way instead of hello.” He made a mental note to never talk to Henry when he was exhausted. He lost his censor completely.

  Henry’s lips were lifting in a soft smile. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  “Really, it’s no trouble. Sit down. Is there something you need? Can I get you some coffee?”

  “I’m fine, thank you. I had a cup after a tour went through this morning. Three busses of middle schoolers from Lafayette.” She sat down and slipped on her sweater.

  “I’ve got a class of second graders coming through i
n about an hour. I feel your pain,” he said. “I admire teachers. I don’t think I could do their job.”

  “You don’t like kids?”

  “Not really.” He wondered if it was rude to say that, but figured since she didn’t have any, it wouldn’t offend her. He thought of the little girl on the river walk that morning. “One at a time, they’re okay, I suppose. But the bigger the group, the stranger they seem. Completely uncontrollable, just legs and arms and noise. ”

  “The noise, noise, noise.” She grinned. “As the Grinch said.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Are you calling me a Grinch?”

  “If you are, so am I.”

  They sat there for a moment, smiling at each other, until she seemed to remember why she’d come in the first place. She cleared her throat and pushed up her glasses, a move he was starting to recognize was more of a nervous gesture than anything to do with the glasses. Her elbows were tucked tight against her body and she tugged at the hem of her dress, smoothing it over her knees. Gideon skipped back over their conversation the day before, his mind grabbing and discarding things he’d said. Whatever he’d done, she was steeling herself against the task of broaching the subject.

  “I came to see if you were coming to the Finnemore place this evening, but now that I’m here, I’m guessing you’re not,” she said.

  He worked through several responses in his head before he managed to ask, “Why?”

  “Why am I asking you?” Her face had gone pink.

  “No, why are you guessing I wouldn’t be working there tonight?”

  “Oh. Because you look exhausted.” She grimaced. “That was rude. My mama raised me better, I promise.”

  “I’m not offended. It’s okay to be honest,” he said.

  “People say that but they don’t mean it.” Although her tone was light, there was a sadness in her eyes.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there tonight.” He picked up his pen and twiddled it between his fingers. “Listen, you don’t have to work down there alone. I’m happy to share the space.” He wanted to tell her that she was easy company, that he preferred her there to being by himself, but the words sat on his tongue unspoken.