Southern Comfort (23 page)

And Natalie. He would definitely miss Natalie.

He straightened. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t help if it’s needed.” It didn’t matter how badly he would miss Natalie. She was almost engaged to one of the most influential men in northern Mississippi. Gerald Davenport seemed to have everything that Newland didn’t. He had a family, community standing, money, good looks—he was sure the man drove a car to rival that of Natalie’s. Newland needed to face it. He was not in her league. Not even close.

He started to move past her but she reached out a hand, stopping him. He looked down at her fingers against his sleeve and then back up into those sky blue eyes.

“I really appreciate it.”

He cleared his throat. “No problem.” Then he pushed past her and skipped down the stairs.

• • •

By Monday afternoon it’d become painfully obvious to Natalie. Newland was avoiding her. She tried on three different occasions to talk to him about the cemetery and the tunnel in her aunt’s cellar or whether or not he wanted jelly or honey on his toast. But no matter how hard she tried to engage him in conversation, it seemed he pulled away twice as hard.

The thought cut like a knife, though she wasn’t sure why. Why did it matter what he thought? Why did it matter if he was distant with her now? So they’d had some great sex. It didn’t mean anything to either of them. It was a chance encounter. And she needed to remember that. After all, she never wanted to repeat it. She couldn’t go around losing control like that every day. It was detrimental to the wellbeing of the Coleman family as a whole. They needed her to remain in control. So why did she care if Newland was distant?

Because you thought it meant more.

Natalie shook her head. It shouldn’t mean anything more than one night, great sex. But somehow it did. There was just this little side of her that wanted to know if it could happen again. Was it a fluke or a once-in-a-lifetime alignment of the stars that caused such chemistry between them on that Saturday night? If she went to kiss him now would it be like kissing her brother?

It. Didn’t. Matter.

She was hoping soon that she could announce her engagement to Gerald. That was all that mattered. Not some fluky hot time with a man she barely knew. Still, heat rose in her cheeks as she thought of how she responded to the hunky reporter.

There was something about their encounter that made her feel so … alive. Oh it was cliché and campy she knew, but it was true nonetheless. He had brought out something in her that she hadn’t known existed. And she wanted to know if she truly owned that response or if it was a product of his touch alone.

If the ghost held true and showed up Thursday, then by Friday afternoon he would be gone and she might never know.

Reluctantly, Newland made his way down the stairs at six o’clock Monday evening. He’d been listening for sounds that dinner was underway. His plan was simple: skip out on what everybody was eating, drive into town, find something to eat somewhere, talk to a few of the locals—maybe someone had seen something in the cemetery—and otherwise avoid Natalie at all cost.

His foot hit the bottom stair as a voice called out, “Newland? Is that you?” Bitty. How she’d heard him, he had no idea. For somebody pushing their eighty-sixth birthday the woman had the ears of a hawk.

“Yes, Bitty,” he called in return. “Just heading out to get something to eat.”

“Out? Land sakes, dear, come in here and get yourself a home-cooked meal.”

He winced as he heard her chair scraping the dining room floor. The next thing he knew she was standing in the hallway, motioning toward him to come. He couldn’t very well dash out of the house and leave her standing there. She had opened her home to him after all. She had fed him and sheltered him in the past week, but he knew that Natalie was sitting there at that table. Aubie, too. Eating with the three of them just seemed so much like a family that it almost broke his heart. It was better if he started to distance himself now, before he got so used to having people who cared about him that he didn’t know what to do without them once he left.

“Of course.” What else could he say?

But when he made his way into the dining room, he found Gerald Davenport seated next to Natalie.

He nodded toward the man, the most gracious greeting he could muster, then went to sit next to Aubie. The position had him across from Natalie, and though he would love to sit close to her as he ate, it was probably better this way. At least he could not easily reach out and touch her as he so badly wanted to do.

She belongs to another.

Newland took his place and served his plate, smiling at the southern fare that was tonight’s supper. Black-eyed peas that looked fresh, sliced tomatoes, fried okra, cornbread, and iced tea. It looked and smelled wonderful, and though he tended to be a meat and potatoes man, the meal was somehow comforting all the same.

He glanced up at Gerald, surprised to see the man had anything at all on his plate. He seemed to be more of a caviar-champagne sort of chap rather than something as simply country as what they were actually eating. Maybe there was more to him than Newland actually knew. He was southern after all, but he didn’t seem as comfortable as Newland might have thought. Gerald hardly looked at Natalie as they ate, never brushed up against her or acknowledged her presence in any way. It was as if she was his sister not his lover.

But she’s not.

Newland had asked her about that very thing and she had refused to answer on her relationship with Gerald. It shouldn’t thrill him that she had never slept with the man, but it did. She’d given herself to him with wild abandonment. But he couldn’t understand why the two of them seemed so distant.

“So, Bitty,” Gerald started, “have you given any thought to those papers I brought by a couple of days ago?”

Papers?

Newland didn’t know about any papers. He squashed that thought. Why was he supposed to know about any business that Bitty was conducting? It was hardly any of his concern. Three more days and he was leaving. But yet he wanted to hear more.

“I read them over, yes.” Bitty nodded. The light from the chandelier glinted off her purple hair.

“And?” Gerald prodded.

“I don’t see what my willing the house to Natalie has to do with getting in on the historical registry. I thought that was our goal here.”

“It is eventually.” Gerald cleared his throat with a little cough. “I thought you should do this just as a safeguard. That way in the event that something might happen to you before the registry goes through properly, Natalie will be able to take over.”

Bitty shook her head. “I don’t know. It would go to Babs, of course, as my next of kin. Wouldn’t it? She is my niece, after all.”

Natalie turned to Gerald, her blue eyes beseeching. “Maybe this isn’t proper discussion for the dining room table, Gerald.” Her voice was soft, yet controlled. And Newland had the suspicion that she wasn’t comfortable suggesting such a thing to her almost fiancé.

“I think it’s a perfect time to discuss this.” Gerald laid his napkin on his half eaten food and steepled his fingers under his chin. “Important matters such as these shouldn’t be put off until it’s too late.”

Natalie shifted in her seat, obviously uncomfortable with talking about the death of her favorite aunt. In fact, as far as Newland knew, Bitty Duncan was Natalie’s only aunt.

“All right then,” Natalie said, heaving a deep breath as she continued, “anything that Bitty owns would actually go to my mother as the next of kin. But then that power of attorney is transferred to me. So regardless, I would have control over whatever happens to the house at that point. Satisfied?”

Newland’s head jerked up at the sharpness in her tone. He’d never heard her speak to Gerald that way. He’d never heard her speak to anyone except for him that way. And he smiled. The woman was getting some spunk.

“I think it’s important is all,” Gerald said. “I didn’t mean to upset anyone.”

Natalie visibly relaxed, and a small smile trembled on her lips. “You worry too much, Gerald. I made sure everything was taken care of long before my family headed off to Greece.”

Newland smiled. Of course she did. That was his Natalie, in control of every little facet. Until it came to … His thoughts came to a screeching halt. She was not his Natalie. At least not in the sense he wanted her to be.

• • •

Natalie looped her arm through Gerald’s as she walked him to the front door. “Thanks for coming by tonight.” She knew that he was busy, but she was glad she had managed to talk him into coming to supper. They still had a lot to discuss about the historic registry of the house and why they were getting so much static over it being a northern built house. Just because the original owner had been a Yankee sympathizer didn’t mean that the house didn’t deserve to be on the historic tour. In fact, as far as she was concerned, it just deepened the rich history of Turtle Creek. But it seemed some people fought the war over and over again even a hundred and fifty years later.

“Of course.”

It was the closest thing they’d had to a date in months, and Natalie wasn’t ready to see it end. Most everything they did they were surrounded by others, and tonight was no different. She saw her opportunity to get Gerald by himself as she walked him out onto the porch.

“How about we have a glass of iced tea out here on the porch swing and talk for a while?”

Gerald shook his head. “I’ve got a big meeting in the morning. I need to get home and look over the briefs. Sorry, this has to be an early night.”

“Oh.” Natalie did her best not to sound disappointed. And it wasn’t just because she wanted to sit and spend more time alone with Gerald and make sure that he gave her that secret little thrill that she got when she sat next to Newland. It was so much more than that. But if she was being honest with herself, that was a big part of it. She needed to know, she needed that reassurance, that she and Gerald were going to be okay, that he could do the same things to her that Newland could, and that once Newland was gone her life would go back to normal.

“I’ll see you at the town meeting tomorrow night.” Gerald bent down and brushed his lips against her temple then started down the steps. He was halfway to his car before she realized that she hadn’t told him about the tunnel they had discovered under the house.

“Well, that was cozy.”

Natalie whirled around as Newland stepped out of the porch shadows. She clutched a hand over her heart. “What are you doing here?” she cried. “You scared the life out of me.”

“I came out here for a little peace and quiet. I had no idea … ” He trailed off.

“Yeah, well.” She turned to head back into the house.

“Why don’t you ask me?”

She stopped. “Ask you what?”

“Ask me to have a glass of iced tea on the porch with you. I have a feeling I won’t turn you down.”

That was something she should not do. She should just keep going into the house, go upstairs, and lock herself in her room. He had been avoiding her for days. She should thank her lucky stars that he had. Thursday he would be gone. And the quicker he was gone the quicker she could forget the passion she felt in his arms.

Still, she found herself turning around to face him. “Would you like to have a glass of iced tea with me?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

To her surprise he demanded she rest in the swing while he went inside to fetch their tea.

Natalie used the heels of her feet to push the swing into a gentle motion as she waited for Newland to return. Nights here were so peaceful. There was something about this house on Sycamore Lane that was so special. She’d spent a great deal of her childhood here playing with Aunt Bitty. Eating sugar cookies and playing dress-up with the clothes from that big trunk up in the attic. She missed those days. Things were a lot less complicated then. She had known what she wanted out of life. Okay, so she had wanted to be a ballerina. What girl her age didn’t? But she hadn’t known then that she would be caretaker to her brother, have absentee parents, be running a foundation single-handedly, all the while keeping an eye on her eccentric aunt.

Oskar whined at the door, and she opened it to let him out. She went back to the swing and he jumped into her lap, happy to be sitting by his mistress.

A few minutes later Newland came out, carrying two tall glasses of cool iced tea.

“You know what’s funny?” he asked as he handed her the glass. “No one here says sweet tea.”

Natalie laughed. “That’s because it’s the way it should be served.”

Newland raised his glass and clicked it against the edge of hers. “Hear, hear.”

Natalie blinked at him in surprise. “You mean you don’t want your tea unsweetened like the rest of the Yankees?”

“That was an unfair stereotype.”

“True.” Natalie smiled at him. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed that Newland Tran was settling into southern life. She’d seen how he’d dug into the country fare that had been served at supper tonight. Gerald had hardly touched his peas and Newland had eaten two helpings. It seemed there was so much more to this man who sat beside her.

A thick silence fell between them. It wasn’t quite uncomfortable, nor was it the silence of two old friends. It was strained, as if the words that needed to be said were pulling against both of them in their efforts to break free.

“Natalie,” Newland said.

She shook her head. “Don’t.”

“You can’t marry him.”

“I have to.”

“You don’t. There’s a whole world out there. A whole world beyond Turtle Creek and Gerald Davenport. He’s after this house, Natalie. Surely you can see that.”

“He’s trying to look out for our best interests.”

Newland let out a frustrated growl. “Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you. But aside from the chemistry between us and his little business deal at the table, that should be enough for you to call off any almost engagement.”

His words stabbed at her heart. She wanted to deny them—vehemently—but she knew somewhere, deep down inside, they were true. But what was she supposed to do about them?