Gideon took a kitchen towel and wrapped it around the wire handle of metal basket and lifted. He waited, letting the broth drain for a few seconds. “Watch out, now,” he called and carried it to the table. Ruby, Bix and Henry leaned back as he dumped the contents on the newspaper.
“A veritable Southern cornucopia,” Bix said, inhaling deeply.
“Let’s add a bit more seasoning.” Ruby had the shaker in hand and then paused. “Unless Henry doesn’t like it so hot. How do you like your crawfish, Henry?”
“Oh, sprinkle it on,” she said. Something in her expression caught Gideon’s attention. Or maybe it was that she actually hadn’t answered the question.
“Do you like crawfish, Henry?” he asked.
“Sure do. I wouldn’t be at a low country mudbug feast if I didn’t, now, would I?” She shot him a look that said she knew exactly why he’d asked and he’d better not say anything if he knew what was good for him. He almost laughed out loud. He was learning to spot the lies, and somehow it didn’t bother him at all, because she’d come to dinner anyway.
Tom emerged with a pile of napkins and stood at the head of the table. “Bix, you want to say grace?”
“Oh, that’d be a shame, me sayin’ grace with a priest at the table.” But he stood up, looking pleased. He made the sign of the cross and spoke the traditional French Creole blessing.
“Amen,” he ended.
“Amen,” everybody answered.
“Dig in,” Tom said and passed a plate to Gideon who passed it to Ruby who passed it to Bix who passed it to Henry, who sat directly across from Gideon. He looked up and Henry let out a soft laugh at the circuitous route.
“So Henry, how’s Blue?” Ruby asked.
Her smile froze. “Oh, he’s fine, thank you,” she said. “I mean, has something happened to him? I haven’t seen him since last night.”
Last night. He imagined Blue walking her home, pausing under the little awning of By the Book for a long kiss. A bolt of white-hot jealousy went through him. He focused on his shrimp, carefully peeling it and dipping it in melted garlic butter.
“No, not as far as I know. I don’t know him real well. He’s got a good education and seems to be a real go-getter. And from a nice Creole family, too,” Bix said.
Henry nodded. “He seems close to them,” she said, her voice carefully neutral.
“Always a good sign,” Bix said, raising his fork like a salute, a piece of potato stuck on it.
Gideon shot a look at Tom. He’d thought it was awkward when Ruby and Bix had given romantic advice. It was much worse listening to a list of Blue’s attributes. Tom shrugged as if to say there was nothing he could do.
“And such a good lookin’ young man,” Ruby said, letting out a low whistle. “No disrespect to my man, since he’s as fine as they come, but that Blue is something special, wouldn’t you say, Henry?” she asked.
“He’s handsome,” she agreed.
“But not as handsome as Gideon,” Ruby said.
Gideon almost inhaled a bite of corn. He saw where this was headed now. Bix and Ruby thought they could somehow trick Henry into seeing that he was the better candidate.
“Not as handsome as Gideon,” Henry agreed.
He made a low noise in his throat, hoping they’d all move on. Henry didn’t have to coddle him.
“But, for me, being attractive is about more than just what a man’s been blessed with. I like that Gideon doesn’t know he’s the handsomest man in town. Once, when we were on our way to the Finnemore house, a girl almost walked into a post because she wasn’t paying attention to where she was going. But Gideon had no idea.”
Bix let out a laugh. “She was payin’ attention, all right. Just not to where she was walking.”
“When was this? I don’t remember this at all,” Gideon said.
“See?” Henry asked, laughing. “It happens all the time. A few days ago when we were standing in front of By the Book, an older lady did a double take right in front of us and you didn’t even notice.”
“I think you might be misunderstanding,” he said. “There are a lot of good reasons for that.” The fact that he’d spent more than a decade in prison for murder was one.
She didn’t bother to answer, just went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “There’s just something about a man who isn’t aware of how he affects women. And as much as I like Blue, he might have an inkling that he’s a good looking guy.”
“Well, Gideon sure knows now,” Tom said, laughing. “So, it’s back to square one. They’re even.”
She brushed back her hair and flashed him a smile. “No, it was never even.”
Was she flirting? He wanted to think she was flirting, but he was probably wrong.
“How are the plans for the jambalaya feed?” Gideon asked. He didn’t care if it was abrupt. He was torn between wanting to know what she meant and not wanting to hear how perfect Blue was for her.
“Everything is going according to plan,” Tom said, spearing a piece of sausage. “Which means the real disaster is being saved for the day. That’s the way it goes.”
Ruby said, “My cousin Lucinda is comin’ as soon as the sun is up. We’re gonna make a big batch. Last year we ran out early and wasn’t nobody happy. Remember that? Ol’ Fitz threw such a fit about not getting a bowl to take home for his wife when we all know it gives her gas bad enough to gag a maggot and he just wanted to feed it to his favorite dog.”
Now that Ruby was onto the jambalaya feed, Gideon let himself relax a little.
“Just remember you both are bringing a pot.” Tom pointed down the table at Henry and Gideon. He could tell Tom wanted to add “together” but knew he was pushing his luck.
“Ooh, you two should team up! My mamere always said the best jambalaya was made up of mostly love with a whole bunch of yearning and a big ol’ dash of passion. See, the love is like the rice and the yearning is the chicken and the passion is the tabasco sauce.” Ruby nodded as if it all made perfect sense. “Or, maybe the passion was the chicken and the yearning was the tabasco? Now I forget.”
“We’ll take that into account.” Henry took a sip of tea and looked at him across the top of her glass, clearly trying not to laugh.
“You know, this reminds me of the all the outdoor cookin’ we used to do with Mable Jean,” Bix said. “She lives up near you, Gideon, at Lac Terre Noire. We just don’t get out there as much, now that I don’t have a license.”
“I’d be happy to take you any time,” Gideon said.
“That’s real nice of you,” Bix said. “Father Tom, I was telling Gideon that he coulda had my old green Caddy if we’d known each other last year. Such a shame I had to sell it to a stranger. You would have loved it.”
“I’m sure I would have,” Gideon said, pouring himself some iced tea. He looked across at Henry, ready to refill her glass but froze at her expression. She sucked in a sharp breath. His gaze darted around the table for what she’d seen.
“Nothing rides like a Caddy,” Bix went on. “That little foreign car you got just wasn’t made the same. It’s all automatic windows and automatic air and automatic seats moving back and forth. You make everything automatic and you lose the best parts of the car.”
“You’re probably right,” Gideon said. Now Henry’s expression was even more incredulous. Her mouth had dropped open and the napkin she’d picked up had fallen onto her food.
“We shoulda kept it and used it for something, Bix. I saw where someone made a car into a greenhouse. That Caddy woulda made a real big greenhouse,” Ruby said.
“What?” Gideon whispered, leaning over the table.
“You,” Henry said. “You…” It was as if she were having trouble speaking.
“Naw, that car needs to be driven. That’s what it was made for,” Bix said through a mouthful of corn.
“Me?” He searched back through the last few seconds and found nothing.
“You just…” Moisture glinted at the edge of her eyes and Gideon f
elt panic rise from deep inside. He’d offended her, somehow. They’d only been at the table for a few seconds and he’d already upset her so much she was close to tears.
“The best part of a Caddy is the trunk, sha,” Ruby said, snapping a pincer.
“As big as a back seat. You can fit three grown men in one. And don’t ask me how I know it,” Bix said.
“I’m sorry. Whatever it was, I’m sorry,” he said. He reached out and to grab her hand, wanting desperately to reverse what he’d done. Then he remembered that she was afraid of him and stopped.
“You lied,” Henry whispered.
Gideon blinked at her.
“Remember when we took Janeese’s kids to the drive in movies, we got ten people in that car. Best five bucks I ever spent on two movies,” Ruby said.
“But they got popcorn in the seat. I found popcorn for years, like it was just multiplyin’ in the cracks.”
“You two need anything? Tabasco sauce? Pepper?” Tom raised his eyebrows at them, concern shading his voice.
“No, sir.” Henry brushed back her hair and picked up a piece of corn. “Everything is just right.”
Gideon stared down at his plate. I guess you’ll know when I lie to you. He’d said those words to her with complete confidence that he never would. He’d thought having something to lose was a decision he could make, like choosing the color of his socks. Instead, it had happened without him knowing.
***
The sun slipped toward the horizon and the sky turned from palest pink to deep orange. Henry felt terribly lazy as she relaxed in her chair, hands folded in front of her, perfectly content to listen to Bix and Ruby talk about their courting days. Gideon was making slow circuits of the back yard and she wondered if he was avoiding more of Ruby’s romantic recipes, or just didn’t like to sit still for long.
Father Tom emerged from the back door, carrying a large glass pan. The sweet scent of warm vanilla filled the air. “Bread pudding with whiskey sauce. I don’t make this real often because I want to eat it all,” he said, placing it in the middle of the table.
“And that would be a problem?” Ruby inhaled deeply.
“Yes, ma’am. There’s a shortage of priests, haven’t you heard? I have to keep this heart in tip-top shape.” He tapped his chest.
“I need to send your mama a thank you note,” Bix said. “You have the gift that keeps on givin’, I do believe.”
Father Tom laughed. “You can tell her when they come visit in a few weeks.”
“Do they come to visit very often?” Henry asked.
“Every few months,” Father Tom said. He started to cut generous slices of the steaming dessert. “I can’t get away for the holidays so they usually come down here. Birthdays, too.”
Henry glanced at Gideon, wondering what he did at Christmas and Easter and all the other times of the year when people gathered with their family. If Father Tom was hosting the parents he wasn’t close to, that could be awkward.
He seemed to guess what she was thinking. “He avoids the Mass they attend, makes sure they’re gone before he comes over, and generally acts like a stubborn mule,” he said. “Nobody can make him take a step he doesn’t want to take. Or at least that was what I used to believe.”
Bix passed a plate to Ruby who passed it to Henry. “Has he changed his mind? I always knew he’d come around, sooner or later.”
“So what do you think caused this change of heart? Is it about that man getting out?” Ruby asked, taking up a fork and tasting the bread pudding.
Father Tom slid another piece onto a plate and shook his head. “No, I think it’s somebody else.” He met Henry’s eyes and gave her the tiniest wink.
She glanced around the table, utterly lost. So, Gideon might be reuniting with his estranged parents and it had something to do with her? “Which man, Bix?”
He chewed for several long moments and then shot her a look that was so comical she nearly laughed out loud. It was a ‘someone is behind you’ look, but on Bix it was like waving a flag in the air and shouting. There wasn’t a subtle bone in his body.
Gideon sat down beside her. “Not one of y’all called me back to the table so either you’re planning on eating this bread pudding all alone, or you’re talking about me.”
Henry leaned over and nudged him with her shoulder, whispering, “Don’t worry. It was about some man who was coming. I couldn’t figure out the whole story, so we’re both in the dark.”
He looked down at her, his lips turning up. She realized the last time they’d been this close, she’d been covered in tears and sweat and dirt. If he moved toward her now, she wouldn’t jump back. She didn’t care who was watching. He held her gaze for a long moment and then whispered back, “Maybe if we ask nicely, they’ll let us in on their conversation.”
“You think?” she whispered back. Henry wasn’t curious in the least. She just wanted Gideon to stay close.
“We weren’t trying to be mysterious. We were talking about Duane Banner,” Father Tom said. There was a hint of regret in his voice.
Henry sat up straight, feeling ridiculous for flirting about such a horrible topic. Henry opened her mouth but wasn’t sure what to say. She’d read the newspaper article. She knew exactly who Duane Banner was.
“He was the man who murdered my family,” Gideon said, misinterpreting her silence.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Nothing to be sorry about. He’ll be getting out of prison soon and these three are probably ready to stage an intervention, hoping to keep me on track.” Gideon’s tone was light but he kept he gaze somewhere in the middle of the table.
“Don’t you worry. We’ll keep you accountable,” Ruby said.
“Accountability only works as well as the trust on both sides,” Gideon said. He accepted a plate from Bix and picked up his fork. “If I decided to track him down, I wouldn’t announce my plans. I’d just quietly head on over to New Orleans to pay him a little visit as soon as he got back home. And if I did announce it, nobody here could stop me.”
From killing him. He didn’t need to finish his sentence.
She looked at Ruby, Bix and Father Tom. Here they were, discussing real temptation, the sort of temptation that sent a man to prison for life. She’d never really known that kind of honesty. She kept her fears inside, hoping nobody saw past her bravado.
“Not even all of us, together?” Henry asked.
“I’ve spent half my life in federal prison. I don’t think a priest, two old people and a historian are going to cut it,” he said, but his tone was gentle.
Nobody else spoke.
“Not even if we― if we locked you in somewhere?” she asked.
“You’d have to get me into that somewhere first,” Gideon said.
“Well, that would be easy. I bet I could lure you in, no problem.” She took a bite of the bread pudding, letting the warm sweetness melt against her tongue. “I know what men want and I’m sure you’re no different.”
His face flushed red and he blinked once, twice. Ruby giggled and Father Tom coughed into his fist, as if he’d swallowed wrong. Bix let out a low whistle.
“A flat screen TV, a football game, hushpuppies, chicken wings, maybe some hot mustard and ranch dressing.” She ticked off the items on her fingers. “Am I right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gideon’s mouth twitched. “But… baseball.”
“What?”
“I prefer baseball. For future reference, for the luring.”
“Duly noted,” she said and was in the process of taking another bite when she realized why Ruby had laughed.
***
Gideon tried to enjoy his dessert but he was too busy watching Henry’s face turn color. She was adorable. He’d never thought any woman could be simultaneously adorable and so alluring that he lost his appetite.
He’d told Tom that he only wanted to be sure she wasn’t afraid of him, just so they could work together peacefully. That had been a lie.
She m
ade him want to walk away from the life he’d built, where everything was orderly and safe. He wanted to take chances with his heart, even if there was a real possibility she would reject him. It was the opposite of everything he’d believed for the past seventeen years. He didn’t care. He had to chase even the slimmest possibility of knowing what it was like to be loved by her.
Henry Byrne made him want to live.
Chapter Seventeen
“The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it.”
― Flannery O'Connor
Henry rolled out of bed in one smooth movement and stretched, arms high over her head. The sun was shining through the long windows of the small bedroom and she couldn’t fight the feeling of absolute optimism. Weekends had always been something she suffered through just to get back to work, where she was happiest. But after moving to Natchitoches and taking the position at the park, her life had slowly evolved to something much bigger than a Monday to Friday job. For the first time, she was didn’t dread the evenings when the rest of the world enjoyed their friends and families. A lot of that had to do with Gideon. Actually, it was all about Gideon.
She padded into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Leaning against the counter, she couldn’t help smiling. He had lied. Gideon had lied as easily as anyone she’d ever seen, the little casual nicety falling from his lips without embarrassment. It was silly to be so happy. It had nothing to do with her life. The man was healing from a terrible childhood tragedy and learning to forgive himself for a terrible crime. It was only natural that he would eventually love someone, especially with so many good friends around. He didn’t have to be so guarded, he could build a life and a future.
The coffee pot beeped and Henry rummaged for a mug. Pouring herself a cup, she realized she was out of milk and got out the powdered creamer. She needed to take this slow. Gideon’s life and future didn’t automatically include her. She wasn’t even sure what they were. Colleagues seemed too formal, friends too casual. There was that one moment in the outbuilding when he’d leaned in to kiss her, but otherwise, she didn’t even know if he thought of her in a romantic way. A few seconds of shoulder contact did not a relationship make.
These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance Page 20