Until Winter Comes Again: (An Inspirational Contemporary Romance) (Cane River Romance Book 6)

by Mary Jane Hathaway

“Maybe I text you too much but you don’t have to text back all the time. You don’t have to answer every time I call. Just let it go to voicemail. Nobody said you always had to answer. And the Skyping? You set the times for that. You didn’t have to stay up late talking to me. In fact, you didn’t have to talk to me at all. I was fine with facebook messaging.”

  “I love Skyping with you.” He could hear the quiet desperation in his own voice as the conversation spiraled down like a wounded aircraft.

  “You just don’t love having me twenty feet away.” It was a challenge.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” That was the truth. Being with her face to face was so much better than video chats. He loved their text conversations, but to be near her was a hundred times better. Now that being without her was a possibility, he realized how much he needed to be near her.

  “Funny, you’re not acting like it. I’m starting to wonder why you even took this sabbatical here. You could have gone anywhere.”

  He froze. She had finally hit on the very thing he hadn’t seen. Everyone loved their friends but they didn’t change cities for them. They didn’t plan their future around where their friends might be. “You don’t understand. It’s not that simple.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. And you don’t seem to be able to explain it without lying.” She started for the door but turned back. “Charlie knows I’m going to the rehearsal dinner with you and I don’t want this… whatever to get in the way of their happy day, so I’ll meet you there. We’re not going to make a big deal out of this, right?”

  She didn’t wait for his answer but left the room, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hallway and out into the living room. He heard the door open and slam shut. For several minutes, Rem stood motionless, paralyzed with regret and despair. He should have taken his chance and told her how he felt. She might have rejected him but it had to be better than this… whatever it was between them.

  If only he’d known that trying to save their friendship would destroy it completely. He’d lost her now and he’d only just realized what she truly meant to him.

  Rem sat on the bed, his body numb. He was a coward. Looking back he could see the small, inconsequential moments that had shifted their friendship to something more. He’d realized he was in love with her that morning, but he’d loved her for so much longer. Afraid to risk rejection, he’d lived in denial.

  He’d focused on his research while being utterly blind and willfully ignorant about his own heart. For a smart guy, he’d been incredibly stupid.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Never love anyone who treats you like you're ordinary.”

  ― Oscar Wilde

  “Hey, ready to go?” Tom poked his head in the doorway to Gideon’s office. The early morning light was too weak to do much more than be a gray backdrop to his brother’s form. The rain was pounding against the glass with a fearful intensity, a visible reminder that they were on a deadline from Mother Nature.

  “Just finishing this article.” Gideon didn’t look up from the computer screen. “Two seconds.”

  Tom stood in the doorway quietly. Gideon had dark circles under his eyes and his tie was crooked. Since it was barely past eight in the morning, Gideon was either under tremendous stress or he’d slept in his office. Henry never would have allowed Gideon to work through the night without resting, and the life of a historian wasn’t known for its drama so Tom concluded he was either worried about their little brother’s wedding on Saturday or the new baby. Since Gideon seemed unreservedly happy for Austin and Charlie, it had to be the baby.

  Tom noticed that Bilbo, who was usually giving an impression of a fur rug, was sitting at attention now beside Gideon’s desk chair. A bad sign.

  “Two seconds are up,” Tom said. “Don’t keep your parish priest waiting. We’re busy guys.”

  Gideon didn’t respond. Bilbo nudged his knee.

  “Come on. We’ve got to get over there and pitch some sandbags around By the Book before it’s all done. We don’t want to look like shirkers. And if it rains any harder, we’re gonna have trouble keeping it between the ditches on the drive over.”

  “Two more seconds,” Gideon said, not glancing his way.

  Tom came inside and lowered himself to the chair by the door. His brother had come a long way since he’d met Henry, but he still fought against memories that would never fade. He could sink into a whirlpool of sadness and fury before he even noticed it was happening. Therapy, medication, Henry, the grace of God, and Bilbo had changed Gideon’s life but some days were still touch and go.

  Tom watched Bilbo rest his head on Gideon’s knee. The dog had the ability to call Gideon back from the edge with just a touch.

  “I’m trying to decide…” Gideon’s voice trailed off. “If Henry…”

  Tom sat up. A work-related article wasn’t alarming. Gideon rarely lost himself in his work although he had the laser focus of a man who lived for Cane River history. Running the archives was Gideon’s job, but he ran the place like he’d been born to it. He loved what he did but he never let it take over his life.

  Henry was another matter. Gideon treated Henry with careful attentiveness mixed with awe but since she’d become pregnant, Gideon had had to struggled to find new boundaries. His first instinct was to obsess over every one of her symptoms, worry about hidden signs of distress in the baby, or swing between excitement at the new arrival and despair at how he might fail as a father. Gideon was afraid of overwhelming Henry so he often brought his worries to Tom first. Not that Gideon always listened to his advice, but by the time he’d made the effort to talk out the issue, the anxiety had lots its power. He could make his way back to a normal person’s sort of worry. Gideon was always going to be rubbing elbows with the tragedy of his past, but he worked hard to be healthy and he wasn’t going down without a fight.

  “I’m sure you can finish it later,” he said gently.

  “No.” Gideon was focusing so intently on the screen that Tom wondered if he was going to get eye strain. “Last night she said she had a recurring pain in her right side when she sat in the rocker. I looked it up and it could be several things.”

  Tom stood up. “Close the page. Nobody really finds information that way. You search for something simple like a blister and end up convinced you’ve got leprosy.”

  “This article is about a woman who had trouble breathing the last month of her pregnancy. She kept telling the doctor and nobody believed her. They told her everything was fine. Well, it was a basketball sized tumor pressing into her lungs.”

  Tom reached out and closed the laptop. Gideon barely pulled his hands back in time. “Time to go. Alice and Paul need us. Henry is not dying. She’s having a perfectly healthy baby that has outgrown his or her space.”

  Gideon glared at him. “That’s what they told this woman. I think Henry needs to go get checked out. I think they should do an MRI.” Bilbo nudged Gideon’s leg but he didn’t respond. He nudged him again and Gideon blinked, looked down and scratched the dog behind the ears. “Okay, I hear you.”

  “What does Henry say?” Tom asked.

  “She says she’s fine but―”

  “Well, they say moms know best. She’s the one carrying the baby.”

  “She says she’s afraid she’s going to do something wrong, miss something important. It’s her first baby. Women aren’t born carrying a thousand years of birthing history.”

  Tom considered that. Gideon would certainly take those doubts as a cry for help, and Gideon was nothing if not a man who would do anything for the woman he loved. “You took a birthing class, right?”

  “Six weeks. It was just sort of an overview.” He frowned at the desk. “I mean, breathing techniques? Is that really helpful?”

  Tom tried not to smile. He didn’t know what Gideon thought would be a better class. Probably how to perform a cesarean at home or maybe a five month intensive course on midwifery. The man did nothing by halves. He was the posterchild for preparedness
.

  “Everything is okay now, and it will be okay when the baby arrives. Trust me.”

  Gideon nodded but didn’t look convinced.

  “Now, it’s fixin’ to flood and they can’t move all those books in time. Think of the books. You love that place. You and Henry both do.” Tom rested a hand on Gideon’s shoulder. His brother was notoriously prickly but researching Henry’s aches and pains on the internet would not end well. Gideon needed to get up and do something else. Throwing around sandbags would be the perfect antidote to his gloomy outlook. Plus, Gideon could easily out lift most of the men in Natchitoches.

  He sighed. “I guess you’re right. I just wish she’d stay home until the baby comes. She’s still driving out to Magnolia Plantation every day, walking around out there in the mud and the rain. She missed a step yesterday and twisted her ankle.”

  Tom thought most women who couldn’t see their feet might have trouble navigating the stairs and there were stairs in their house as well, but he didn’t point that out. “It’s not so far from the hospital. Maybe fifteen minutes. She knows what she’s doing. I think she’ll stop if she starts to get too tired. If you want, I can check in on her every day. I’m just a few minutes away.”

  Gideon shot him a look. “And how will you explain yourself?”

  “Well, the first day I’ll bring over an old picture for the park display. I’m sure we can dig something up at St. Augustine’s. The second day I’ll bring leftover cake. The Ladies’ Altar Society is always bringing me cake and I’m getting fat. The third day―”

  “No, she’ll see right through you.” Gideon stood up. “I don’t want her to think I don’t trust her. I do. And I clearly don’t know more than she does. It’s just…” Anxiety flashed across his face and he took several deep breaths. Bilbo nudged his knee and looked up at Gideon, waiting for a response.

  “You’re scared.” Most people would have rather jumped from a moving train than accuse Gideon of being scared, but Tom wasn’t most people.

  Gideon walked to the door and grabbed his coat from the hook. He didn’t say anything for a moment. “It’s not just the baby. There’s a lot to be scared about.”

  Tom frowned. “Wait a minute. What else is going on?”

  “That new head of the board.” He shrugged on his coat and walked through the doorway.

  “What about him? Just the fact that Michel had to retire? I was there when we voted, remember?” Tom followed him out. He’d been on the board of the Natchitoches parish archives for almost eight years and hated to see Michel Landreau retire. The new head seemed competent enough, even if he was a little zealous. It was Natchitoches, not New York City. They didn’t need to take a vote on every little slip of paper that passed through the place but the guy had worked wonders and was clearly excited to have the position, which was more than any of the other board members.

  “New rules.”

  “I didn’t hear about that. What new rules?” Maybe the new guy wasn’t as keen on voting as he thought. Maybe the head was instituting rules without the group.

  He waved at Bernice on the way out. The secretary cut her eyes at Gideon. Tom nodded and flashed a thumbs up. Got him covered. Don’t worry. Bernice had known Gideon since he’d taken the position as director of the parish archives and cared about him despite his tendency to give the impression he’d rather pull out his own fingernails than interact with people.

  “Stricter guidelines.”

  The rain pounded down on the hood of his coat and he had to hurry to keep up with Gideon’s stride. “What does that mean? For what?” They’d reached Gideon’s car, an SUV with four wheel drive. Tom hadn’t even bothered to ask if they were going to take his Ford. It wasn’t a bad car, but if they ran into any standing water, they’d be in trouble.

  Gideon hit the unlock button, opened the back seat for Bilbo, and they both slid into the front of the car as quickly as possible. It wasn’t just pouring rain, it was cold. Tom shivered in his raincoat and blew on his bare hands. He should have brought gloves. It was going to be very unpleasant passing sandbags outside.

  He cranked the key and sat there for a moment, as if listening to the rain. Gideon’s profile didn’t give any hint to what he was feeling but Bilbo had his head between the front seats, his nose on Gideon’s shoulder.

  “He’s wants to review my hiring. Thinks the archives should conform to federal and state hiring standards. He’s right.”

  Tom let out a low whistle. “When did he tell you this?”

  “Last week.”

  “Have you told Henry?”

  Gideon looked at him. “Would you?”

  “Yes.” When Gideon just shook his head, Tom went on. “She’s a tough woman. This isn’t something that is going to rock her world.”

  “How do you know?” His voice was quiet. Bilbo nosed his shoulder again but Gideon didn’t respond.

  “Because Henry loves you above anything and everyone else in this world, besides God and that baby. As long as you’re all together, she’s not going to be thrown by a change in jobs.”

  “But would it just be a change? What if it’s permanent? What if I never find anything else? She could be supporting us for our entire marriage if I don’t find something else to do.” Gideon reached out and rubbed Bilbo’s ears. “It’s okay, buddy. Just talking.”

  They were just talking but Tom saw the pain in Gideon’s eyes. All he’d ever wanted to do was protect Henry, and Tom could see how this would fall right into the idea of Gideon’s past hurting them both. “First of all, he can’t do anything without the rest of the board. Secondly, I’ll call him and ask him what in… Sam Hill he thinks he’s doing.” Tom didn’t often struggle to censor his words, but when someone seemed to go behind his back and threaten one of his brothers, that definitely was cause for a little righteous anger.

  Gideon shook his head and put the car in gear. “No, you’ve always gone to bat for me. Let me stand or fall on my own this time.”

  He snorted. “That’s not what brothers do. I’ll call the guy. He’s not God, and even if he was, I’d have a talk with him anyway. We’re not Pharisees. We can decide whether the rules apply. It makes no sense to fire you now, after seven years of hard work. And after the Cane River database you and Henry created, it’s downright backward.”

  As he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, Gideon switched the wipers to high. The sky was an angry looking deep gray above them.

  “Thanks,” he said simply. “I’m glad you’re on my side.” There was still a set to his mouth that signaled distress but the tension had lessened in the lines of his body. Bilbo disappeared into the back seat but the smell of wet dog remained.

  “I’m always on your side. You know that.” They said blood was thicker than water, but Tom and Gideon had a bond deeper than blood. Both adopted as foster kids, they’d walked through the fire of bad choices and discovered God’s mercy. That kind of bond didn’t fade with time or circumstance. “And I’d talk to Henry if I were you. Don’t shut her out because you don’t want to worry her. I bet she already knows something is wrong and just hasn’t asked you yet.”

  Gideon grimaced.

  “Will she be at By the Book?” Tom held up a hand. “Sorry. Dumb question. She’s not going to be out there throwing sandbags at nine months along.”

  He smiled for the first time. “She wanted to come along but I can’t imagine how she’s going to help.”

  “Typical Henry. The woman doesn’t quit.” Tom loved her for that. She was the type of person that Gideon had always needed by his side. Someone who didn’t blink in the face of trouble, who stood strong when things got tough. She had the faith of a saint and heart of a mother. It was a fearsome combination and Gideon would probably never know how blessed he was.

  “I hope she stays at Magnolia Plantation where it’s dry. Or drier. They’re not in danger but Clark has taken the opportunity to make sure the place will withstand the apocalypse. Henry says when it’s windy, the ma
in room has a draft that could launch a glider but Clark refuses to block up the stove. He’s been saying for years that people shouldn’t get rid of their wood burning ovens and gas lamps. He doesn’t trust the infrastructure. Thinks we’re all just one power outage away from starving to death in a cold, dark basement.”

  Tom grinned. “He and Alice would get along like a house on fire. Paul wanted to update the place but she told him everything was working so why throw out something perfectly good.”

  “I remember the stove in Henry’s apartment. It must be from nineteen fifty. She still cooked some excellent gumbo on it and her cookies came out perfectly done, but lighting it wasn’t for the faint of heart. You know, Clark and Alice aren’t all wrong. I prefer oil lamps sometimes. You never have to worry that the batteries are low and the oil lasts forever. If you don’t mind the risk of fire, oil lamps are a perfectly fine way to light a house. Better than a flashlight, for sure.”

  “Well, if the electricity goes out, Clark will be thrilled that he’s been proven right.” Tom was quiet for a moment. “I hope they don’t have anything worse than that for By the Book. Fireplaces and lamps won’t save the bookstore if…”

  Gideon nodded. “Some things can’t be replaced,” he said quietly.

  A lot of people believed if they only had enough money, all would be perfect, and perhaps it would be if everything you wanted could be bought. For Alice, that her husband was the founder of Screenstop wasn’t exactly a plus. Quite the contrary. They’d found common ground in classic literature and preserving history through books, not money. If the bookstore flooded, the loss would be much worse than financial. The antique leather volumes simply couldn’t be replaced.

  They traveled in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Bilbo let out a few soft sighs in the back seat.

  As Gideon turned the car onto Front Street, Tom leaned forward in shock. The water had risen nearly to the lip of the bank and the brown current flowed swiftly past. Gideon parked in the small lot next to the bookstore and shut off the car. “This isn’t good.”