There was that something in her tone again, something that said she didn’t really want to talk. “I― no.” He went to his end of the table.
They worked in silence for a while. Finally, he decided that he’d rather annoy her with talking than take the risk of looking ungrateful. He shuffled his papers. “Henry?”
“Yes?” She seemed resigned, sad.
“I wanted to say that…” He waved his hand at the stacks of boxes. “You, working with me here, it’s important that I―”
“I know,” she blurted out. “I know you don’t want anything to come between you and this project.”
He blinked a few times. “That wasn’t quite what I wanted to say.”
She dropped her chin for a moment then said, “Did we mess everything up? Should we try to go back to the way we were?”
She was having second thoughts. He knew why. She’d seemed off from the moment she walked in. Maybe she’d come here tonight thinking he wouldn’t be here and she could work alone. She’d been afraid of him once, and now she knew she had good reason. “Do what you think is right.”
There was a flash of hurt in her eyes. He felt an answering stab of pain near his heart and he stood up, walking to the row of boxes near the wall, pretending to look for a paper he needed. He desperately wanted her to say she would still see him, outside of this project, but he knew it was too much to expect.
“We should put the project first,” she said. “It’s more important than anything else.”
He wanted to argue, but he saw her point. Hundreds of years of history did come before any hope they might have of being more than friends. “You’re right.”
“Life is complicated enough, really.” She sounded like she was talking to herself.
He knew where she was going. “When did you hear about Reggie?” he asked.
“Who?” Her voice sounded small and tired.
“The kid I was mentoring. The one I tried to strangle.”
“What?” The word echoed against the basement walls.
He turned to see her eyes had gone wide in shock. “It’s a long story. Don’t worry about it.”
She got up from her chair and came toward him. “No, wait. I want to hear about this guy, Reggie.” She crossed her arms over her chest and Gideon knew there was no point in trying to keep it from her.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart
and speaks another.” ― Homer, The Iliad
He told the story, again, as quickly as he could. Nathan’s terrified face haunted him, in his waking hours, in his dreams.
“Wow. That’s pretty bad,” she said softly.
Gideon closed his eyes for a moment. Tom was his friend and his brother. He also loved him unconditionally. But Henry was different. He saw the truth in her eyes and it was brutal.
“Good thing you didn’t really hurt him. You could have lost your job and gone back to jail. I can’t imagine life here without you.” She seemed to reconsider her words. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to finish this project without you.” She let out a soft laugh. “And I thought I’d had a bad weekend.”
He wanted to ask her to go back to the bit about not wanting to live without him but he didn’t. “You’re not afraid of me?”
“You?” A smile started on her lips and spread to her eyes. “Would it be wrong of me if I liked you even more now?”
Even more. He would take any increase in liking, any way he could get it. “I’m not sure that’s the healthiest response to my story.”
“Maybe I’m just like Alanna. Maybe I’m only attracted to you because I’m looking for a dangerous man to tame,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.
“I’d say you’re not doing a very good job since I’ve become more violent since I met you.”
“I’ll just have to give up my plan to mold you into a better man, then.” The smile faded from her lips. “Honestly, I understand why it happened. If I were a big guy like you, I’d have been tempted to do the same thing.”
He let out a short laugh. “Never. You’re perfect. You would never hurt anybody.”
She dropped her gaze. They were only a few feet apart now but Gideon still wished she’d take off her glasses.
“So, what was that about your weekend?”
She shook her head. “No, nothing. I mean, breakfast on Saturday was great. But the rest…”
“I heard you got roped into driving the retired priests to Mount Driskill.”
“I hope you don’t think I was trying to get invited. I can beg off, if you want. I really wasn’t trying to horn in on your trip.” She wrapped her arms more tightly around herself.
“I’m pretty sure you have better things to do than chauffer a bunch of old men around the countryside. Some of these guys are practically living saints. And some were born cranky and only got worse with time. I’d love to have you along.” As her shoulders relaxed a little, he said, “You’re not going to tell me what happened, are you? Don’t hold back. It can’t be as bad as what I told you. I’m sure you didn’t lose your temper and try to strangle someone.”
She didn’t respond but he could see the glint of tears behind the reflection of the candle light on her lenses. “I can’t tell what you’re thinking,” he explained as he reached out and gently removed her glasses.
“I’m not a nice person,” she whispered.
He almost laughed. “Ridiculous.”
“I’m not a nice person and I say terrible things to people because I know I can and I know I’m right.”
“You told someone the truth for once?” He thought he could guess what had happened.
“I used to think I didn’t have friends because of how everyone lied, but now I know it’s just because of who I am. It’s not them, it’s me.” She went on, the words rushing out like a confession. “I have one friend but she’s only my friend because we’ve known each other forever. We’re more like family. But my family isn’t my family because I never really wanted to get to know them, or if I did, it was only so I can throw back everything in their faces. I thought being right meant that I was a good person, but it’s doesn’t. Being right is just being right. I’m still a mean, vindictive, cruel person who doesn’t care about anybody else at all.”
“Mean and vindictive? You’re―” He was at a loss for words. She was like a flare in the dark. She thought she was the siren but she was the lighthouse. She was hope, distilled into one human being and standing in front of him like a miracle. He reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing away a tear with his thumb. He wanted to say that he would walk through fire for her, that he was ready to face his demons just for a chance to be with her.
“Until I met you, I didn’t realize that I wasn’t really living.”
Her lips parted just a bit as if he’d surprised her, and he felt her smile against the palm of his hand. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she whispered.
His gaze dropped to her mouth and he shifted, but after a few seconds the fear won out and he stayed where he was. She reached up and covered his hand with hers, turning her face until her lips pressed against his palm.
“We’re so broken,” she said, and he felt the warmth of her words against his skin. “Do you think we’ll tear each other apart?”
“Maybe we’ll keep each other honest,” he said.
She smiled against his palm. “Honest,” she said. “I like that.”
“If you ask me, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” His heart was pounding as he spoke. “I won’t hide from you.”
Her expression was solemn, as if they were exchanging vows. “I’ll be myself with you.” He could feel her trembling. “Even if I don’t like who I am.”
She lifted her other hand and let it rest against his chest, right over his heart. He leaned down, looked into those beautiful sage green eyes, and waited for her to close the gap between them. The last time they’d been this close he hadn’t thought t
o go slowly and it had ended in disaster. Her eyes fell closed and she leaned close, close enough he could feel her breath against his lips.
But the next moment he heard someone clattering down the stairs and calling out, “Are you down here? I got your―”
Gideon leaned back, heaved a sigh and fixed Tom with a look. Henry gently dropped her hand, taking his with it, and stepped back.
“Hi, Father Tom.” Her cheeks were pink.
“Oh, hi, Henry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Tom said. He looked a little bit chagrined and a lot amused. “Who knew this moldy old basement was such a magically romantic spot? Figures that two historians would think this was perfect. I voted for the top of Mount Driskill, but Gideon never takes my advice.”
It wasn’t bad enough that their kiss had been interrupted again but now Tom was going to tease him mercilessly.
“Maybe he was prepping for Mount Driskill,” Henry said, squeezing his hand. “He’s too smooth to just make a sudden move. If he didn’t give a girl some warning, she might be covered in dirt and sweat and worse things. She just might jump away out of embarrassment and then regret it ever after.” She slid a look Gideon’s way and gave him the tiniest wink.
“Oh.” He couldn’t help grinning. So, that was one mystery solved. Henry hadn’t been afraid of him after all.
Tom cleared his throat loudly. “I’m still here,” he said. “And although I got your message, I still have no idea what’s going on.”
Gideon explained as quickly as he could and Tom’s expression turned darker and darker.
“You’ve got a real problem,” he said.
“We need a truck.” Henry waved her free hand at the boxes. “We need to move everything as soon as possible.”
“I think I know a few guys who can help. Will the collection be okay for tonight?”
Gideon nodded. “I’m pretty sure he can’t get in. I’ll reattach that padlock when we leave.”
“That’s wise,” Henry said. She gave his hand another little squeeze and let go. “You let me know when I should be here to help move, okay?”
“Will do,” Tom said. “Are you two done for the night?”
Gideon wanted to say they had hours left, but Henry was already moving toward the table. “I think so.”
“Then let’s close this place up and get out of here. I don’t want a confrontation unless there has to be one. Barney Sandoz is starting to sound like he’s more than a little crazy,” Tom said.
After they walked out of the basement, Gideon carefully replaced the metal panels that held the padlock.
“Interesting skill set you have there,” Tom said. “You take a class on that in college?”
“Just common sense.” And maybe a few things he picked up from the things he heard in prison. It was amazing how many ways a thief could get into your house.
They chatted easily as they walked toward the parking area. The block was almost empty of other people and the night air was warm without being muggy. In a few minutes they reached Henry’s car and Gideon had just finished saying something about the photos they’d scanned that evening, when Henry stepped closer and kissed him on the cheek. Again.
Seconds later she was gone and he hadn’t moved a muscle.
“Are you okay? You need anything? Bucket of ice water?” Tom sounded like he was trying not to laugh out loud.
“Hilarious.” Gideon forced himself to start moving toward his car. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to her,” he said, mostly to himself.
“It wouldn’t be love if you did,” Tom said.
Gideon opened his mouth to say he wasn’t in love with Henry, but with a terrible realization, he knew he was. Somehow, it had happened without him knowing, without any fanfare.
“Hey,” Tom said, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Take a deep breath. This is a good thing. Nothing to it.”
He tried to push back the fear, but it roared around in his head, drowning out all Tom’s advice. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I hate to break it to you, but none of us do. We’re all just doing our best, day by day.”
Gideon said nothing, envisioning all the ways loving Henry would end in pain and loss. All the ways he would break her heart.
“Look at me,” Tom said.
He turned, already shaking his head. “This is bad.”
“This is good. Repeat after me. This is good.” Tom looked like he was trying not to laugh, but also knew Gideon was losing it just a little bit. “Any other woman and I might agree with you, but Henry is different.”
“She is. You’re right.”
“She’s not looking to change you. She wants you just the way you are. And loving someone isn’t a crisis. It’s normal. Lots of people do it. They love each other and the sky doesn’t fall. The world doesn’t stop turning.”
“Right,” he said. When he was with Henry, he never panicked at the thought of being near her. It all felt so normal, so easy. “I just don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to screw up.”
“I’m not sure whether I should tell you this or not, but you will. I can guarantee it.”
“Not helpful,” Gideon said.
“Sorry. That’s my job, right? To tell you the ugly truth that you don’t want to hear? And I’m telling you that you shouldn’t aim for perfection because that path is paved with good intentions and we all know where that leads.”
Gideon nodded, but inside he was resolving to never, ever let Henry down. She deserved someone who was as close to perfect as he could get. He would do everything he could to make sure he never made a mistake with her, never let his past get in the way of their future. He would be the kind of man she deserved.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I didn't lie! I just created fiction with my mouth!”
― Homer Simpson
“For someone who lives upstairs, I don’t get to see near enough of ya,” Bix said. He handed a customer a bag of books and came around the counter. By the Book was packed, but then, it was the weekend and tourists often came to visit the little vintage bookstore full of cats.
“Sweet of you to say. Tell Ruby I said hi.” Henry gave him a kiss on the cheek. “This is my friend, Patsy. She and her husband are thinking of moving down here.”
Patsy gave a little wave and Henry hoped she’d remember to explain about Bix’s eyesight before they met again. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “You must know a lot about vintage books, working in this beautiful store.”
“Oh, not really. I mostly feed the cats, pick up the mail, and get in the way.” He gave Henry a huge wink. “And there might be a little babysitting in my future.”
“Oh, you,” Alice said, walking up behind them. “You can’t keep a secret to save your life.”
“Are you having a baby? Congratulations!” Henry didn’t know why she was so shocked. Maybe because Alice and Paul were living in different cities most of the time.
As if she knew what Henry was thinking, Alice said, “We’ve been sorting out the details but Paul will be moving their headquarters here. They’re checking out land across the river for a building. He was worried most of his crew would prefer to stay in New York City, which would be fine since they’ll still have a base there, too. But apparently, a lot of them are thinking of coming with him.” She grinned. “Natchitoches is going to have an influx of New Yorkers.”
“That’s gonna be interestin’, for sure.” Bix shook his head. “I was just tellin’ Father Tom that I could spot someone from out of the parish. They live over the parish line, and I can tell. But this? Whole different ball game.”
Alice nodded. “I like to think of it as Southernizing a whole new group of people. We’ll make them speak Creole French, listen to zydeco music, and eat jambalaya two times a week.”
Patsy leaned over to Henry and whispered loudly, “Never mind about moving. We changed our minds.”
Bix said, “Aw, come on, now. We can really throw a party. I was tryin’ to con
vince Gideon to let Ruby and me throw him a shindig this weekend. But he said he had somethin’ else planned.”
“A party?” Henry hoped she wasn’t being nosy. She couldn’t imagine a scenario where Gideon would want a big party, especially one hosted by Bix and Ruby, as wonderful as they were.
“It’s his birthday, sha. You didn’t know it? He keeps it pretty quiet. Maybe he’s ashamed of bein’ an old bachelor, but I told him he was runnin’ out of time to find himself a wife. He just needs to put down all those letters written by dead people and get out of the archives. He’s not going to find a wife there, for sure.”
“Well, he’s hardly old,” Henry said. Bix must have forty years on Gideon.
“I still think a party would have been nice. We could have had music and dancing. Everyone loves dancing.” Bix sighed. “I guess he’s spending the day with Father Tom and a whole bunch of old priests.”
“And you,” Patsy said, nudging Henry. “Don’t forget you’ll be there. On his birthday.”
Her face went warm. Now it sounded as if she’d arranged it all. Before Bix could interject, she turned the conversation back to Alice. “I’m so excited for you. When’s your due date?”
“Middle of May,” Alice said. “I’m a May baby. We’re calm, sweet-natured people.” She smiled in a way that made Henry laugh. That was a lie and Alice wasn’t trying to hide it.
“You know, this birthday talk reminds me that I forgot to look for a present.”
“No problem. I’ll sit in that old red chair in the corner. I may never get up, it looks so comfortable, but don’t worry about me,” Patsy said. “And congratulations, again, Alice. My baby is just crawling. Pencil us in for some playdates in about a year.”
Alice laughed and nodded. “I will.”
Henry slipped away to the poetry section while they talked. Maybe Gideon didn’t like to celebrate his birthday. Maybe it had bad memories. But she would hate to have the day pass without any kind of notice. She wandered the aisle, unsure what to choose. She knew he liked Edna St. Vincent Millay, but that meant he probably had a collection of her poetry. Elizabeth Barrett Browning was too romantic. Walt Whitman was too wordy. She pulled out books, then put them back. A collection of greatest love poems was reshelved in record time.
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