Along the Cane River: Books 1-5 in the Inspirational Cane River Romance Series

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  “See? Rose isn’t scared,” Bix said. “Fighting it just makes it all the harder.”

  “Oh, I’m not scared at all,” Rose said, laughing. “It’s total hogwash.”

  There was a moment where Henry looked at Alice, Bix looked at Henry, Alice looked at Paul. Each of them was clearly withholding comment, eyes tight with laughter.

  “Right, Blue?” Rose turned to him, as if he were the only sane person in the room.

  “Exactly,” he agreed. He tried to ignore another round of glances and unspoken conversation. “Y’all can continue to believe this fairy tale if it makes you feel better, but don’t be mad at us when we don’t announce our engagement within the year.”

  He was worried that his words were too harsh but Rose was nodding along. “We just don’t want you to be disappointed,” she said.

  Bix spoke first. “Okey dokey, artichokey. We believe you,” he said. “Patty and I are going to go straighten the paperback room.” He walked away, a smile belying his words.

  “And I’m off to find a book,” Henry said. She paused, looking over at Rose. “It was nice to meet you and please come by Oakland Plantation sometime. I’d love to show you around.”

  “Sure. You, too,” Rose said, not quite making sense. Blue wondered if she was awed by Henry’s beauty, or if she was simply unnerved by the over-generous offers of friendship everyone was making. Rose probably thought they lived without reference to any plane of reality.

  “Blue?” He turned to see Paul holding out what looked like a warm panini sandwich. “Stay for lunch.”

  “No, no. I already ate,” he said. “I didn’t mean to stay. I just saw Rose in the poetry aisle and…” He was making it worse. “I should really go.”

  “But you’re coming for dinner this Friday,” Paul said, unwrapping the sandwich and setting it on a little table near Alice. He pulled a chair over and motioned Rose to sit down next to Alice. “Rose? You, too?”

  She took a moment to answer. Maybe it was because she was carefully shifting Elizabeth to the other arm so she could eat with her right hand. Maybe she was distracted by the pickle spear that had rolled off when she’d unwrapped the panini. Or maybe she’d changed her mind.

  Blue felt a flicker of unease. He’d been so focused on not being dragged into some kind of romantic drama that he hadn’t been exactly careful with Rose’s feelings. She always carried a slight air of fragility or wariness. He scrolled back through all the arguments he’d made to Alice, all the offhand comments. His heart sank. Rose was doing the best she could, caught between her employer and her neighbor, trying her hardest to be diplomatic. Being the new girl in town and starting a new job, she had it much worse than he did. Yet he’d been the one complaining at every turn.

  “As long as you don’t try to marry us off before dessert,” she said, taking a bite of pickle.

  Blue let out a cross between a snort and a laugh. Rose wasn’t going to let all the subtext and whispers go without a comment.

  “Of course. But if it happens naturally, you can’t blame us,” Alice said.

  “That’s my girl,” Paul said, reaching over gently ruffling Alice’s curly hair. “She’s transcendently stubborn. Her stubbornness reaches far beyond ordinary stubbornness.”

  “Well, since we’ve got that settled, I’d better be getting back to the office,” Blue said. He met Rose’s eyes and winked. She responded with a barely-there crooking of her eyebrow. As he said goodbye to Aurora and left the store, he couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face. He’d thought Alice’s awkward matchmaking was going to rival his trouble with his father, but Rose had taken it in hand, and now he just had one messy area in his life. One supremely messy area, but at least it was only one.

  He walked into the afternoon sunlight and was still smiling as he reached for the door to his office. It was then that he realized he hadn’t even thought of Henry as he’d left By the Book.

  He’d walked right past the love of his life, and not even remembered she was there.

  ***

  Rose watched Blue out of the corner of her eye and pretended to be fiddling with her panini toppings. After a few seconds, he was out the door. Alice and Paul were deep in a witty discussion about the merits of stone ground mustard versus regular hotdog style mustard. She smiled at the way they played off each other, dropping literary quotes to shore up their arguments, but Rose’s attention was elsewhere.

  For the past few weeks, Blue had seemed a little less than a stranger. Someone she could greet or exchange a few pleasantries with, but today, everything had changed. First, there his nearly nonsensical reaction to Annabel Lee. Well, it was nonsensical until she’d seen him with Henry. Then everything had fallen together.

  Rose pushed a few French fries around the sandwich wrapping. He was desperate to be shallow, as desperate as she was, but they were both doomed to be the ones who loved long after all hope was gone. In the poem, Annabel Lee was buried in a tomb by the sea, but Rose felt like she was the one trapped in the sepulcher, frozen in place.

  Richard had betrayed her, letting her take the fall for something that he had arranged. Maybe she would have been found guilty anyway. Maybe the charges would have stuck as fast as they did. But he didn’t even try to defend her. He hadn’t been silent, either. He’d lied. Straight out, bald-faced lied.

  She could hardly be surprised, since that’s what they did, the two of them. They were the best liars in the city, and their careers were built on it.

  Rose lifted a French fry to her mouth and chewed slowly. She didn’t have the strength or the passion to rage against her fate. Not like Blue, who was ready to breathe fire at the reminder of lost love. That was one thing that Blue still had that she’d lost long ago: passion. Her fire was gone. Now her life was made up of small comforts and little irritations. She’d never again feel the giddy euphoria of infatuation, the dark depression of rejection.

  Looking down into Elizabeth’s little face, Rose told herself that it was good to be resigned to a quiet life. She had the best job in the world, in a charming town, lived surrounded by books and a beautiful apartment. She couldn’t ask for more.

  She glanced up at Paul, who was composing limericks about stone ground mustard, and Alice, who was laughing too hard to eat. And even though she’d just been reassuring herself that she was fine with her life, a sudden yearning shot through her.

  Rose tried to refocus on her lunch. She’d known passion, love, and loss. She’d known the excitement of planning a wedding, and survived a broken heart. It wasn’t the way she’d thought her life would go, but at least she’d known what it was like to be loved, even for a short time. That was more than most people. She didn’t need it now. She was content.

  Chapter Nine

  “I want everything back, the way it was. But there is no point to it, this wanting.”

  ― Margaret Atwood

  “You’ve got a visitor,” Cyndi LeMarche said. His secretary didn’t look up from the papers she was sorting on her desk.

  Blue closed the glass door before responding. Unlike By the Book, the reception area was small, carpeted, and updated. It was like going from the turn of the century to modern times, and Blue always felt a faint shock to his system. Or maybe it was leaving all the books, friends, and babies. Returning to his office was like being sent back to solitary confinement.

  He looked around at the empty leather couches and the deserted coffee station. Leaning to one side, he glimpsed the empty conference table behind the glass wall to the right of the reception area. That left only two more places this visitor could be, and the bathroom was an unlikely choice.

  “Your daddy’s in your office,” she said.

  Blue almost sighed. A lot of Southern men and women called their fathers “daddy” on into adulthood, but something about Cyndi’s tone made him think she meant it less as an endearment and more as a comment about Blue’s relationship to his father. As much as he wanted to argue that he wasn’t a little boy, there was
a part of him that knew her criticism was painfully accurate. He was a grown man but his father was controlling his life, professional and private.

  “Thanks, Cyndi,” he said. “Any messages?”

  “I think he took them in already,” she said, and after a look that was one second too long, she went back to sorting papers.

  Blue felt his blood pressure spike as he walked toward his office. Not only was his father dropping clients on him without asking, he was sitting in Blue’s office and reading Blue’s phone messages. The situation was untenable. Something had to change.

  He tried to clear his head. He needed to set boundaries and speak plainly, not argue. As much as his father liked to rile him up, Blue needed to stay calm.

  “Good afternoon,” Blue said as he walked in. The last word came out a little choked as he saw his father’s dress shoes parked on Blue’s desktop. It wasn’t enough to sit in his chair, the man had to put his dirty shoes on his paperwork.

  “Finally back,” his father muttered around the cigar in his mouth. He flipped another page in the file on his lap and gave Blue a long look. As usual, he was dressed in a three piece suit and tie, even though he hadn’t worked in an office for years.

  “I wish you wouldn’t smoke in here,” Blue said. For the tenth time, he regretted not having a window in the office that opened.

  “Why? You’re not allergic, are ya?” He chuckled at his own joke. “Everybody’s allergic to everything nowadays.”

  Blue didn’t respond. Besides smelling bad, Blue avoided tobacco because of the twins. They had been born a few weeks on the early side and smaller than the average baby, so their immune systems might be compromised. Also, recent studies showed that it wasn’t the smoke in the air that was as dangerous as the smoke that clung to clothing and surfaces. When Blue had to sit through a cigar smoking session, he always made sure to shower and change before holding the twins.

  His father dropped his feet to the floor with a thump, took the cigar from his mouth, and slapped the files on the desk. “You don’t look real prepared for this case.”

  “No, sir. Marcus Railpot hasn’t been exactly forthcoming with his records.”

  “He’s given you everything you need.” His father’s black eyes narrowed into slits.

  “I need more. I need everything the prosecution might have on him. His accountant went to them with evidence, they brought charges, and I can’t get Marcus to be straight with me. I’m working on guesswork and heresay. I’m working blind.”

  His father stood, and even in his seventies, his six foot three frame was straight and lean. “Don’t worry about Marcus. He can’t help you. If he was any dumber, he’d need waterin’ twice a week. You focus on poking holes in their case. Every move they make, object. Block’em. Stall. Throw in red herrings.” He walked around the desk. “You gotta learn to play the game, Blue. You’ll never win until you learn how to play the game.”

  Blue thought of ten different responses and none of them were acceptable. He didn’t want to play, he wanted to practice law. He didn’t want to block the prosecution, he wanted to prove his client’s innocence.

  His father opened the door to leave, but paused with a hand on the knob of the door. “Your mama expects you at dinner on Friday at six, as usual. But I might tell her you’ve got to put in extra hours on this case. We don’t want Railpot to suffer because you’re too eager to get home for Mrs. Taylor’s chicken and biscuits.”

  So he was being banned from home until he proved himself by winning the case. Blue wanted to say that he would rather clean the gutters than sit at a table with his father, and he felt the words welling up inside. He opened his mouth to let his anger spill out, but a flash of pink over his father’s shoulder caught his attention.

  “Rose?” He started forward, his anger turning to worry. Maybe there was a problem next door. His heart rate jumped at the thought of someone hurt.

  She gave a little wave. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. Your secretary told me to come on back.” She held out an old leather book. “Alice asked me to drop this off. Something Paul borrowed from you but keeps forgetting to give back.”

  “Oh, thank you.” He took the old treatise on local laws from her with a smile. His father had turned and was giving Rose a thorough once-over. Blue knew exactly what he was seeing. Despite the casual slacks and the button up shirt, her figure was double-take, even triple-take, worthy. He saw the large brown eyes, the dimples, the blonde bedhead curls that other women probably spent hours trying to replicate but Rose was always trying to tame. Add in that shy look she always had and the spark of intelligence in her eyes, and Rose looked like someone his father would love to get to know better. Blue had never had proof of infidelity but his father openly admired women other than Blue’s mother, especially the young and beautiful ones.

  “My son has forgotten his manners,” his father said, and held out a hand. “Lee Chalfant, attorney. I haven’t seen you hereabouts before.”

  “Rose Black,” she said, taking his hand. “Mr. Chalfant, you must be very proud of your son following in your footsteps.”

  She hadn’t answered his father’s unspoken question. She’d told Blue she was from Baton Rouge. Or she’d just moved from there. He realized he didn’t know that much about her family or her background except she was good with kids.

  “You don’t sound like a local. Plus, I’d remember a gal like you around our little town.” His father gave her a small smile. “New York? Or Boston?”

  Rose’s expression tightened. “Baton Rouge, actually. But I went to school in Boston.”

  “School?” His father asked.

  Blue felt a sudden knot in his stomach. Nannies weren’t usually from wealthy families or have degrees. His father wanted a biography, resume, and a list of degrees.

  “You think you’re somethin’ big, don’t you? That man you sassed, he’s gonna be the next mayor of this town and you made yourself a fool in front of everybody.”

  “But Daddy, he kicked that cat. It wasn’t doin’ anything to him. Just sittin’ in the sun on the sidewalk.”

  “It’s a dirty stray, Blue! It’s nothing. Nobody cares about that flea bag. It doesn’t have a home or people. Not even a name.”

  “Rose just arrived in town. She’s working with Alice at the bookstore,” Blue said.

  His father didn’t even look at him. “Working how? And arrived from where?” He said it all with a genial smile, but he wasn’t letting go.

  “Watching the babies, sir. And I’ve come just a hop, skip and a jump away.” Rose gave what was almost a flirtatious look. “From nowhere special, like me.”

  His father replaced the cigar, thinking. “The Blacks from Baton Rouge, eh? Related to Charlie and Genevieve Black?”

  “Yessir. My aunt and uncle.”

  “Well, now.” He hooked a thumb into his vest pocket. “You’re the kind of girl Blue should be paying some attention to, but I bet he hasn’t said three words to you. The boy’s a little socially backwards. Hardly had a date in high school. Went out a few times with that Henry woman who runs the state park, but she dumped him right quick. He can’t seem to keep anybody’s attention.”

  Blue felt his face go hot. It was a classic maneuver. His father was making sure Rose knew who was the alpha of the pack, and if his father had to use his own son to show off his brute strength, he would do it. Of course, his father said it all with a great, big smile.

  Rose let out a little chuckle. “Well, sir, you’ll be glad to know that he’s said a few more than three words to me. In fact, we’re having dinner together this Friday.” She stepped toward Blue and slid an arm around his waist. “I think he just wasn’t ready to introduce me to his mama.” She held a finger to her lips and said, “Shhhhh.”

  Blue’s body went taut in shock. Rose was playing the game. She was assessing the competition, analyzing moves, planning countermoves, and cleverly staking her claim. He wanted to shake her. She had no idea who she was dealing with and it was goi
ng to end badly, for both of them.

  His father cocked an eyebrow and for a moment Blue was sure he didn’t believe Rose.

  “Color me surprised. And no, I won’t tell anybody.” He let out a puff of smoke. “I’d hate for his mama to be disappointed when things don’t work out.”

  Rose put her hand on Blue’s chest and gazed up at him. “Well, he’ll have to dump me because I know a catch when I see one.”

  He looked down at her, remembering all the ways Alice had hinted to him that Rose was the woman for him, and all the times he and Rose had both refused to believe it. The ridiculousness of the situation was too much. He choked out, “No, honey bunny, you’ll have to dump me.”

  Rose forced her expression into an outrageous pout and reached up, warm fingers cupping his cheek “Aw, my gooey Bluey. I’ll never leave you. You’ll have to dump me.”

  He forced back laughter and managed to keep a straight face as he leaned forward, inches away from her lips, eyes half closed. “No way, Rosey Posey, you’ll have to―”

  “I’ll show myself out,” his father said and headed for the reception area.

  They watched him leave for a few seconds, then Blue backed Rose into his office, gently closing the door.

  She dropped her hand from his face and stepped away. “Rosey Posey? That’s all you’ve got?” she whispered, eyes bright.

  “Oh, and ‘gooey Bluey’ is so much better.” He sat on the edge of his desk and started to laugh. “The way he ran from us, I wish I had a video.” Wrapping his arms around his middle, he let himself relive the moment. Rose dropped into the other chair and laughed along with him. But after a few minutes, reality started to set in. “I’ll never hear the end of it when he finds out we’re not an item.”

  “Why would he?” she said, shrugging.