Lenora Worth - Gift of Wonder

What if Jonah Sheridan could help her do that? Would that be so wrong? Alice didn’t have the same strong convictions as her sister. She prayed, same as Lorene, but she wasn’t so sure her requests were always as pure as her sister’s. But in spite of her doubts and her cynical nature, Alice still held out hope, too. She didn’t like to admit that, but if she looked closely she knew she’d find a little glimmer of hope somewhere deep inside her bruised heart. How else could she have written that story only months after Ned had broken her heart? She wasn’t so sure she was ready to nurture that hope, though.

“We need to follow up on this, Alice,” Dotty Tillman said later that morning. “You need to follow up on this. So why are you sitting here?”

Alice lifted an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting I stalk the man, Dotty?”

Dotty stuck her pen into the thick auburn-colored bundle of wiry hair surrounding her café-au-lait face, then looked down through her pink bifocals. “Isn’t that what a good reporter does?”

Alice was suddenly having doubts regarding her abilities to remain neutral about Jonah Sheridan. “But…by the time our story comes out next month, he might be long gone anyway.”

Dotty again looked through her bifocals, a hand moving in the air. “Okay, kid, what’s really going on? You come in here and tell me about this Jonah Sheridan person and how he’s out to rebuild practically the whole town, but you don’t have that enthusiasm I like in a reporter. In fact, you seem downright depressed about this scoop. Spill it, Alice.”

Alice sank back in her chair then glanced out the front window of the tiny cottage where the Bayou Buzz offices were located on Bayou Drive. Everything around here seemed to have the word bayou in it, one way or another. Maybe because all the people around here had bayou blood running through their veins. She could see the Bayou Belle Inn across the square.

The blue Victorian house that had become an inn and restaurant over twenty years ago sat back from the road, surrounded by ancient live oaks and tall magnolias on the street side and bald cypress trees and trailing bougainvillea vines on the bayou side. Leaves from the nearby red oaks and tallow trees floated by in graceful symmetry each time the fall wind blew. Alice shivered, feeling that wind like a warning inside her soul.

“I guess I don’t buy it,” she finally admitted. “He just shows up one day all gung ho about a place he’s never even seen before. I don’t trust this man.”

Dotty let out a huff of breath. “Suga’, you don’t trust any man, not since—”

“Don’t remind me,” Alice said, getting up to pace around the square office, where her own big desk behind the reception counter served as her home away from home. “I don’t want to make the same mistake twice, Dotty. I vouched for Ned. I convinced people to hire him. And even though Jonah Sheridan seems like the real deal, I just can’t get excited about this. Maybe I am being too negative, but it’s hard right now.”

Dotty dropped her glasses on Alice’s desk. Her gold hoop earrings shimmied as she shook her head. “We all make mistakes, you know. Especially when it comes to men.”

“Is that why you’ve never married?” Alice asked, hoping to glean a bit of information from her tight-lipped boss. No one really knew much about Dotty, except that she had grown up in Texas and lived in New Orleans until a few years ago. She’d started a multicultural magazine there, but something had gone wrong and she’d wound up here. A blessing for Alice, since she’d needed a job, but a mystery for the whole town. More fat to chew, more fodder for bayou legends. “Dotty?”

Dotty’s exotic chocolate-colored eyes widened. “We were talking about you, kid, not me.”

And that was as far as she usually got with lovable, stubborn, opinionated, exotic Dotty. No denial, no explanation. Dotty didn’t talk about Dotty. But she lived to write the truth about everyone else.

“I’ll get the story. You know that,” Alice said, wishing Dotty would allow other human beings close. Her boss was a loner. And she never darkened the church doors. Dotty didn’t seem to need God in her life. And that made Alice sad. And determined to help her friend and mentor.

“I want the story, no doubt,” Dotty said, getting back to business. “But I want a good, solid story. Not just some notes and an attitude. Get to the bottom of this, Alice. Find out what’s behind Jonah Sheridan’s driving need to come to a town he’d never even visited and help us rebuild. Does he have some gold stashed away to help the poor and needy? Or does he have some other reason for wanting to do this? You need to find out, because we both know there’s always more to the story.”

“I will,” Alice said, but her heart hammered like loose tin hitting against a barn roof, fast and steady. “I didn’t say I had to like the man to get to the truth.”

“No, you sure didn’t,” Dotty replied, her expression smug and sure. “You didn’t have to. Apparently, our Mr. Sheridan got to you in a big way.”

Alice shook her head. “No, he didn’t. He did not. He just got my feathers ruffled with all his pie-in-the-sky talk.”

“And maybe with his crisp brown hair and lady-killer smile?” Dotty asked, staring beyond where Alice stood with her back to the window. “Or maybe the way he walks all loose-limbed and laid-back?”

“You’ve seen him?” Alice wanted to bite her tongue. She’d just verified that she agreed with Dotty’s spot-on description by blurting out the question.

“Yep,” Dotty replied without missing a beat. “Up close, too.”

“When?”

“About two minutes ago, when he started walking across the street toward our front door.”

Alice whirled around in shock just as the man himself opened the door and looked up to find her staring at him.

Jonah’s surprise caused him to inhale a deep breath. “Uh, hello, ladies.” He could tell they’d been discussing him, since one looked guilty and the other one looked amused.

The guilty one—the one with the blond curls dancing around her high cheekbones—sank back against a cluttered desk. “What brings you to see us, Mr. Sheridan?”

“It’s Jonah,” he said, leaning against the tall receptionist’s counter. “I came by to see if we could talk.”

The amused one got up and came around the desk to extend her hand. “I’m sorry. Our receptionist is out on an errand. I’m Dotty Tillman, publisher and owner of the Bayou Buzz. And you’re just the man we wanted to see.”

He smiled, thinking this was a very good sign. He’d thought about how to deal with Alice Bryson, and he’d decided to gain her trust before she decided to delve too heavily into him and his past and his future. He had to keep her close so she wouldn’t dig too deep. “Great, because I wanted to see you, too.” He shook Dotty’s hand but he kept his eyes on Alice. “If you’re not busy.”

“We are,” Alice said, folding her arms across her midsection in a hostile stance.

“We are not,” Dotty replied as she cut her gaze to Alice. “Come on back and have a seat, Jonah. Maybe you can fill us in on all these rumors. Tell us a little bit more about your plans for this area.”

Seeing the perturbed look on Alice’s face, Jonah walked past her and settled down on a high-backed floral chair. “That’s why I’m here, actually. I plan on giving the local weekly paper an interview, but I wanted to offer y’all the chance for an all-out, in-depth exclusive on this project. That way, your story will hit at just about the time we get things going on the property.”

Dotty grinned big, her dark eyes beaming with glee. “Funny, that’s exactly what we were talking about. I just assigned Alice to cover you—I mean, to cover your project. I wanted her to find out all she could so our readers will get the big picture on this.”