These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance Read Online Free Page A

down at his desk and picked up the silver pen Tom had given him when he’d
first arrived in Natchitoches. It had been a gift to symbolize his new
beginning, a new start. Most of the locals thought they were the oddest of
friends, even though they were brothers, but they were more alike than anyone
knew.
                Maybe
it was just that time of year, where everything reminded him of the choices
he’d made. Maybe he needed to spend more time at the river with Tom and old Bix.
Maybe he needed to take a few days off and work in his garden. For years he’d
been satisfied with his life. Now he’d lost his equilibrium faster than a
spinning top knocked off its axis.
                 Standing
up, he walked to the window and stared out at the meadow. The water in the
shallow creek glinted in the sunlight. A red tailed hawk circled lazily in the
sky, hoping to snag a field mouse. Something about Henry Byrne reminded him he
wasn’t dead yet. He wasn’t even that old. But hoping for a different kind of
life was an exercise in futility. He had set his future the moment he’d strangled
Mark Daniels to death on that cold November night.
                He
needed to put the whole situation out of his head. Tell the truth, ruin the
party. That old Cajun saying was true. The moment he’d explained where he’d
been for the past fifteen years, cold reality had arrived.
                Gideon
straightened his back. There was still so much to be grateful for. There had
been a time when his future was only darkness and revenge. He’d fought for this
well-ordered, quiet existence in Cane River. It was a better life than he could
have hoped for. Certainly better than he deserved.
     

Chapter Two
    “We are all sentenced to solitary confinement in our
own skins, for life.”
    Tennessee Williams
     
     
     
                Henry
pulled into the long driveway of Oakland Plantation and let out a sigh. This
new position was everything she’d ever wanted but here it was, the second week,
and already dissatisfaction had settled over her.
                She
parked, leaning her forehead against the wheel for a moment and letting the
cool air from the AC ruffle her hair. The stereo pumped out an upbeat pop song,
the bass thumping in time to the ache behind her eyes.
                Being
linked to Kimberly Gray was a pretty normal, run-of-the-mill day in
Natchitoches. Hearing people lie with every other word wasn’t out of the norm,
either, but her visit to the archives that morning had rattled her. All she
wanted to do was go home, let down her hair, crawl into bed, pull up the
covers, and not come out until tomorrow. Or next week.
                She
wasn’t a quitter. Tightening her ponytail, she checked her makeup in the
rearview mirror. On the outside, she looked fine. Confident, polished, and with
a deliberately academic air, thanks to her glasses. She flashed a smile.  She
was used to having the upper hand in a conversation, whether she wanted it or
not, but today she’d been flying blind.
                Gideon
hadn’t tried to impress her, hadn’t uttered a word that was even a slight
exaggeration. There was no false cheerfulness, no social nicety, no careful
shading in his tones. Whether or not someone wanted to make friends, there was
always a little kernel of pride that prompted them to put their best foot
forward. It had been a very long time since she’d met anyone who didn’t lie. Everybody lied.  
                Shutting
off the car, she headed for the front porch.  Not having a close working
relationship with Gideon Becket wasn’t a total disaster. She wasn’t sure how
much she would see him, but she could still say they worked together. Plus,
this was her dream job and the position carried a lot of weight.
                Oakland
Plantation, originally known as the Jean Pierre Emmanuel Prud’homme,
Plantation, wasn’t one