Lenora Worth - Sweetheart Reunion

Look who’s in town!

The last person Alma Blanchard expects to waltz into her bayou café is Julien LeBlanc. If seeing him again weren’t painful enough, her handsome ex-beau announces that he aims to settle down with her. The boy she broke up with in high school was not the settling-down type! As his courting continues, though, Julien softens her heart with his devotion and faith. But how can she ever forgive him and put aside her fear that he’ll break her heart again? Alma has always believed a happily-ever-after just wasn’t meant for her. What will it take for Julien to prove her wrong?

“What do you think you’re doing, Julien?”

“Me? I’m walking you to work. Kind of romantic, don’t you think?”

“Why aren’t you at work?”

“I was, before the sun came up. I stopped in to have a late breakfast and you…were missing.”

“So you tracked me down and embarrassed me yet again?”

She trotted off at a fast pace, but felt his hand warm on her arm. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“Then what do you call this?”

Julien leaned close, his dark eyes holding hers. “I call this making up for lost time. I’m yours, Alma. And I believe it’s time we both get used to that idea.”

Alma’s shock caused her to gasp. “Mine? You were never mine. And I’ll never be yours. You might have considered that before you decided to launch an attack on me.”

“I’m not attacking, darlin’,” he said on a whisper. “I’m wooing. I want to make you mine.”

Sweetheart Reunion

Lenora Worth

Therefore with joy shall ye

draw water out of the wells of salvation.

—Isaiah 12:3

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Dear Reader

Questions For Discussion

Chapter One

Another day, another dollar.

Alma Blanchard stood inside the empty Fleur Bakery and Café, watching the first rays of sunrise crest with all the magnificence of a giant golden shield over the still, lush Louisiana bayou. The scent of fresh-baked bread and crisp bacon filled the air and the long kitchen at the back of the café sizzled and fizzed with morning activity.

She put down her coffee, brushed strands of long dark hair away from her face and steeled herself for the busy morning rush. The old clapboard restaurant echoed with the tap of her sneakers on the aged cypress floors. She’d just turned the key inside the big industrial lock when a face, silhouetted against the slanted rays of the dawn sun, appeared on the other side of the glass paneled doors.

A face she’d just as soon not see so early in the morning.

Julien LeBlanc.

He grinned at her, flashing dimples and dark onyx eyes that always reminded her of a bayou night. Pushing a calloused, tanned hand through his thick dark bangs, he said, “C’mon, chère, open up. I’m needing some of that good coffee, for sure.”

Alma willed her heart to slow down, wondering why after ten years Julien still had this kind of effect on her. It wasn’t as if she still cared about him. Any feelings she’d had for Julien were long dead. But still…memories of high school and Julien hit her with the same intensity he used to tap against the door.

“You’re killing me, Alma,” he called, his nose pressed to the glass panes. “Please, pretty please.”

“Hold on,” she called out, twisting the big lock, her hands suddenly clammy, her joyfulness vanished as she stood back to let him in. Grabbing her coffee as a shield, she said, “I’m not awake yet.”

Julien muscled his way inside the second the big oak door gave way, the scent of spicy soap and early morning fresh air surrounding him. He stood, hands on his hips, his impish gaze sliding over her like warm, glistening water. Tilting his head low so he could lock his gaze on her, he said, “You look awake to me, darlin’. And as pretty as those morning glories blooming out on the front porch.”

Then he took her coffee cup from her and drank deeply. “Ahh, you make the best coffee in south Louisiana.”

“Stop it with the charm,” Alma said, her tone turned sassy even while her stomach turned sour. They did this, played out this flirting dance, each time they were around each other. She both enjoyed and dreaded it. But it was their shield against the truth. “Just get in here and let me get to work. What do you want, Julien? Besides coffee, that is.”

He gave her a look that told her exactly what he wanted. The resigned longing in his eyes reminded her of sweet poetry whispered by the light of a crescent moon. Then the look was gone. “Me, I’m starving. Eggs over hard, bacon, grits and biscuits. Double on all.”

“How do you stay in shape?” Alma asked, turning to hurry behind the safety of the long wooden counter.

And why did she ask such stupid questions? The man worked day and night out on his boat, didn’t he? And when he wasn’t out in the Gulf waters trolling for shrimp or in the bayous working his traps, he was busy building boats. Beautiful one-of-a kind boats. A hard worker, her Julien. No, not her Julien, no matter how hard he tried to flirt with her. No matter the memories of distant times lodged in her brain like a log jam.

He’d never be hers again.

And she’d best remember that.

Besides, she didn’t have time to dwell on the past and Julien LeBlanc. Time to open the café to all the other regular customers and the early-bird tourists.

Alma put his order through then disappeared into the kitchen, a fresh new cup of dark roast coffee steaming in her hand, while she looked out the big kitchen window in the back of the café and watched a tall white egret spread its wings and lift gracefully out over the dark water. The egret settled like a ballerina near a stand of bald cypress trees covered with Spanish moss then strolled through the shallows, dipping its long beak as it searched for breakfast.

Alma sighed, took a sip of the strong brew and wondered why she felt so out of sorts this morning. Such a beautiful, peaceful beginning to her day. Such a joyful morning. She should have reveled in God’s handiwork. All around her, the early crew chatted and fussed, working to get the day started, some singing, some whining. But right here, right now, with the spring day beginning in all its glory and the promise of unexpected gifts in the air, Alma felt alone. Thinking about Julien and what they’d once had didn’t help. So she said a little prayer that she would be at peace in God’s world.

Just for a minute, Lord.

Mama would have loved this morning, Alma thought, memories of her mother Lila moving with the same grace as the elegant egret. Maybe that was why Alma was so off-kilter. She missed her mother each and every day, but nothing could be done for that. Mama had been dead for almost eight years now. And Alma was still in the same spot, always staring out into the world and wondering if there was something more out there for her.

But Alma had promised her mother she’d keep the café going, so she had bread to bake and meals to cook and supervise. The shrimpers and fishermen and tourists would want a good breakfast this fine spring morning.

And so would Julien.

She grabbed his order and took it out to him. “Here you go. Eat it while it’s hot.”

“Sit with me a spell,” he said, his dark eyes lifting up to her face, his hand touching her arm with a lightness that didn’t match the expression on his face.