These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance (28 page)

BOOK: These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance
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            “I
wanted to say that…” He waved his hand at the stacks of boxes. “You, working
with me here, it’s important that I―”

            “I
know,” she blurted out. “I know you don’t want anything to come between you and
this project.”

            He
blinked a few times. “That wasn’t quite what I wanted to say.”

            She
dropped her chin for a moment then said, “Did we mess everything up? Should we
try to go back to the way we were?”

            She
was having second thoughts. He knew why. She’d seemed off from the moment she
walked in. Maybe she’d come here tonight thinking he wouldn’t be here and she
could work alone. She’d been afraid of him once, and now she knew she had good
reason. “Do what you think is right.”

            There
was a flash of hurt in her eyes. He felt an answering stab of pain near his
heart and he stood up, walking to the row of boxes near the wall, pretending to
look for a paper he needed. He desperately wanted her to say she would still
see him, outside of this project, but he knew it was too much to expect.

            “We
should put the project first,” she said. “It’s more important than anything
else.”

            He
wanted to argue, but he saw her point. Hundreds of years of history did come
before any hope they might have of being more than friends. “You’re right.”

            “Life
is complicated enough, really.” She sounded like she was talking to herself.

            He
knew where she was going. “When did you hear about Reggie?” he asked.

            “Who?”
Her voice sounded small and tired.

            “The
kid I was mentoring. The one I tried to strangle.”

             “What?”
The word echoed against the basement walls.

            He
turned to see her eyes had gone wide in shock.  “It’s a long story. Don’t worry
about it.”

            She
got up from her chair and came toward him. “No, wait. I want to hear about this
guy, Reggie.” She crossed her arms over her chest and Gideon knew there was no
point in trying to keep it from her.

Chapter
Twenty-One

“Hateful to me as the gates of
Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart

and speaks another.” ― Homer,
The Iliad

 

            He
told the story, again, as quickly as he could. Nathan’s terrified face haunted
him, in his waking hours, in his dreams.

            “Wow.
That’s pretty bad,” she said softly.

            Gideon
closed his eyes for a moment. Tom was his friend and his brother. He also loved
him unconditionally. But Henry was different. He saw the truth in her eyes and
it was brutal.

            “Good
thing you didn’t really hurt him. You could have lost your job and gone back to
jail. I can’t imagine life here without you.” She seemed to reconsider her
words. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to finish this project without you.” She let
out a soft laugh. “And I thought I’d had a bad weekend.”

            He
wanted to ask her to go back to the bit about not wanting to live without him
but he didn’t.  “You’re not afraid of me?”

            “You?”
A smile started on her lips and spread to her eyes. “Would it be wrong of me if
I liked you even more now?”

             
Even
more.
He would take any increase in liking, any way he could get it. “I’m
not sure that’s the healthiest response to my story.”

            “Maybe
I’m just like Alanna. Maybe I’m only attracted to you because I’m looking for a
dangerous man to tame,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.

             “I’d
say you’re not doing a very good job since I’ve become more violent since I met
you.”

            “I’ll
just have to give up my plan to mold you into a better man, then.” The smile
faded from her lips. “Honestly, I understand why it happened. If I were a big
guy like you, I’d have been tempted to do the same thing.”

            He
let out a short laugh. “Never. You’re perfect. You would never hurt anybody.”

            She
dropped her gaze. They were only a few feet apart now but Gideon still wished
she’d take off her glasses.

            “So,
what was that about your weekend?”

            She
shook her head. “No, nothing. I mean, breakfast on Saturday was great. But the
rest…”

            “I
heard you got roped into driving the retired priests to Mount Driskill.”

            “I
hope you don’t think I was trying to get invited. I can beg off, if you want. I
really wasn’t trying to horn in on your trip.” She wrapped her arms more
tightly around herself.

             “I’m
pretty sure you have better things to do than chauffer a bunch of old men
around the countryside. Some of these guys are practically living saints. And
some were born cranky and only got worse with time. I’d love to have you along.”
As her shoulders relaxed a little, he said, “You’re not going to tell me what
happened, are you? Don’t hold back. It can’t be as bad as what I told you. I’m
sure you didn’t lose your temper and try to strangle someone.”

            She
didn’t respond but he could see the glint of tears behind the reflection of the
candle light on her lenses. “I can’t tell what you’re thinking,” he explained
as he reached out and gently removed her glasses.

            “I’m
not a nice person,” she whispered.

            He
almost laughed. “Ridiculous.”

            “I’m
not a nice person and I say terrible things to people because I know I can and
I know I’m right.”

            “You
told someone the truth for once?” He thought he could guess what had happened.

            “I
used to think I didn’t have friends because of how everyone lied, but now I
know it’s just because of who I am. It’s not them, it’s me.” She went on, the
words rushing out like a confession. “I have one friend but she’s only my
friend because we’ve known each other forever. We’re more like family. But my
family isn’t my family because I never really wanted to get to know them, or if
I did, it was only so I can throw back everything in their faces. I thought
being right meant that I was a good person, but it’s doesn’t. Being right is
just being right. I’m still a mean, vindictive, cruel person who doesn’t care
about anybody else at all.”

            “Mean
and vindictive? You’re―” He was at a loss for words. She was like a flare
in the dark. She thought she was the siren but she was the lighthouse. She was
hope, distilled into one human being and standing in front of him like a
miracle. He reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing away a tear with his
thumb. He wanted to say that he would walk through fire for her, that he was
ready to face his demons just for a chance to be with her.

             “Until
I met you, I didn’t realize that I wasn’t really living.”

            Her
lips parted just a bit as if he’d surprised her, and he felt her smile against
the palm of his hand. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she
whispered.

            His
gaze dropped to her mouth and he shifted, but after a few seconds the fear won
out and he stayed where he was. She reached up and covered his hand with hers,
turning her face until her lips pressed against his palm.

            “We’re
so broken,” she said, and he felt the warmth of her words against his skin. “Do
you think we’ll tear each other apart?”

            “Maybe
we’ll keep each other honest,” he said.

            She
smiled against his palm. “Honest,” she said. “I like that.”

            “If
you ask me, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” His heart was pounding as
he spoke. “I won’t hide from you.”

            Her
expression was solemn, as if they were exchanging vows. “I’ll be myself with
you.” He could feel her trembling. “Even if I don’t like who I am.”

            She
lifted her other hand and let it rest against his chest, right over his heart.
He leaned down, looked into those beautiful sage green eyes, and waited for her
to close the gap between them. The last time they’d been this close he hadn’t
thought to go slowly and it had ended in disaster. Her eyes fell closed and she
leaned close, close enough he could feel her breath against his lips.  

            But
the next moment he heard someone clattering down the stairs and calling out, “Are
you down here? I got your―”

            Gideon
leaned back, heaved a sigh and fixed Tom with a look. Henry gently dropped her
hand, taking his with it, and stepped back.

            “Hi,
Father Tom.” Her cheeks were pink.

            “Oh,
hi, Henry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Tom said. He looked a little bit
chagrined and a lot amused. “Who knew this moldy old basement was such a
magically romantic spot? Figures that two historians would think this was
perfect. I voted for the top of Mount Driskill, but Gideon never takes my
advice.”

            It
wasn’t bad enough that their kiss had been interrupted again but now Tom was
going to tease him mercilessly.

            “Maybe
he was prepping for Mount Driskill,” Henry said, squeezing his hand. “He’s too
smooth to just make a sudden move. If he didn’t give a girl some warning, she
might be covered in dirt and sweat and worse things. She just might jump away
out of embarrassment and then regret it ever after.” She slid a look Gideon’s
way and gave him the tiniest wink.

            “Oh.”
He couldn’t help grinning. So, that was one mystery solved. Henry hadn’t been
afraid of him after all.

            Tom
cleared his throat loudly. “I’m still here,” he said. “And although I got your
message, I still have no idea what’s going on.”

            Gideon
explained as quickly as he could and Tom’s expression turned darker and darker.

            “You’ve
got a real problem,” he said.

            “We
need a truck.” Henry waved her free hand at the boxes. “We need to move
everything as soon as possible.”

            “I
think I know a few guys who can help. Will the collection be okay for tonight?”

            Gideon
nodded. “I’m pretty sure he can’t get in. I’ll reattach that padlock when we
leave.”

            “That’s
wise,” Henry said. She gave his hand another little squeeze and let go. “You let
me know when I should be here to help move, okay?”

            “Will
do,” Tom said. “Are you two done for the night?”

            Gideon
wanted to say they had hours left, but Henry was already moving toward the
table. “I think so.”

            “Then
let’s close this place up and get out of here. I don’t want a confrontation
unless there has to be one. Barney Sandoz is starting to sound like he’s more
than a little crazy,” Tom said.

            After
they walked out of the basement, Gideon carefully replaced the metal panels
that held the padlock.

            “Interesting
skill set you have there,” Tom said. “You take a class on that in college?”

            “Just
common sense.” And maybe a few things he picked up from the things he heard in
prison. It was amazing how many ways a thief could get into your house.

             They
chatted easily as they walked toward the parking area. The block was almost
empty of other people and the night air was warm without being muggy. In a few
minutes they reached Henry’s car and Gideon had just finished saying something
about the photos they’d scanned that evening, when Henry stepped closer and
kissed him on the cheek. Again.

            Seconds
later she was gone and he hadn’t moved a muscle.

            “Are
you okay? You need anything? Bucket of ice water?” Tom sounded like he was
trying not to laugh out loud.

            “Hilarious.”
Gideon forced himself to start moving toward his car. “I don’t know if I’ll
ever get used to her,” he said, mostly to himself.

            “It
wouldn’t be love if you did,” Tom said.

            Gideon
opened his mouth to say he wasn’t in love with Henry, but with a terrible realization,
he knew he was. Somehow, it had happened without him knowing, without any
fanfare.

            “Hey,”
Tom said, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Take a deep breath.
This is a good thing. Nothing to it.”

            He
tried to push back the fear, but it roared around in his head, drowning out all
Tom’s advice. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

            “I
hate to break it to you, but none of us do. We’re all just doing our best, day
by day.”

            Gideon
said nothing, envisioning all the ways loving Henry would end in pain and loss.
All the ways he would break her heart.

            “Look
at me,” Tom said.

            He
turned, already shaking his head. “This is bad.”

            “This
is good. Repeat after me. This is good.” Tom looked like he was trying not to
laugh, but also knew Gideon was losing it just a little bit. “Any other woman
and I might agree with you, but Henry is different.”

             “She
is. You’re right.”

            “She’s
not looking to change you. She wants you just the way you are. And loving
someone isn’t a crisis. It’s normal. Lots of people do it. They love each other
and the sky doesn’t fall. The world doesn’t stop turning.”

            “Right,”
he said. When he was with Henry, he never panicked at the thought of being near
her. It all felt so normal, so easy. “I just don’t want to hurt her. I don’t
want to screw up.”

            “I’m
not sure whether I should tell you this or not, but you will. I can guarantee
it.”

            “Not
helpful,” Gideon said.

            “Sorry.
That’s my job, right? To tell you the ugly truth that you don’t want to hear?
And I’m telling you that you shouldn’t aim for perfection because that path is
paved with good intentions and we all know where that leads.”

            Gideon
nodded, but inside he was resolving to never, ever let Henry down. She deserved
someone who was as close to perfect as he could get. He would do everything he
could to make sure he never made a mistake with her, never let his past get in
the way of their future. He would be the kind of man she deserved.

 

           

           

             

           

           

           

           

           

 

 

 

           

BOOK: These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance
7.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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