Gift of Wonder. Lenora Worth

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      “Hey there,” Alice said, suddenly shy. He was even better looking up close. His gray eyes reminded her of the Spanish moss at night, full of mystery, shimmering with possibility.

      “Hi,” he said, stepping forward to greet her. “I guess you’re wondering what I’m doing.”

      “Thought did cross my mind.” She shrugged, pushed at her worn college sweatshirt. “I mean, we don’t often get people all suited up and running around the swamp talking to themselves. Who are you?”

      “Direct. I like that.” He extended his hand. “I’m Jonah Sheridan.”

      She took his hand. “Like Jonah and the whale?”

      He actually chuckled, but he shook her hand and then released it, leaving a warm impression. “Something like that, yes. Or at least I’m feeling that way right now.”

      She liked that he seemed nervous. It gave her the upper hand. “Relax. We don’t see many whales on the bayou.”

      “That’s good. I stay in enough trouble as it is.”

      She pushed at her curly hair. “And why is that?”

      He held up the electronic gadget in his hand. “Oh, people think I’m strange. I take copious notes. I wasn’t exactly talking to myself. This is a tape recorder. Helps me to stay out of trouble.”

      “I use a tape recorder myself sometimes,” she replied. “I’m a reporter for the Bayou Buzz magazine.”

      His eyes widened. “So it is you. You’re—”

      Surprised, she nodded. “Alice Bryson. The one and only. And how do you know me?”

      He grinned and lowered his head. “I saw your article about the history of Rosette House a few months ago—it was reprinted in the New Orleans newspaper. I actually have a copy back in my room at the bed-and-breakfast in town.” He pointed to the house. “Since I’m a history buff, I decided to read up on this area. I was interested in how you rebuilt the bottom floor of the house after the storm.”

      Alice scrutinized him for sincerity but couldn’t tell for sure. Did she sense hesitancy in him? Or was he holding back something important, maybe trying to pull the wool over her eyes? “Well, that’s good to know. My editor wasn’t sure we should run with that cover story, but I convinced her.”

      “I just reckon you did.”

      “I was pleasantly surprised when the newspaper picked it up. It’s been good for business around here.”

      “It sure got me interested.”

      “Oh, yeah—and just what are you doing in our small town?”

      “You don’t mince words, do you?”

      She grinned. “Some say I’m way too blunt. I just believe in cutting to the chase.”

      He put the tape recorder in his pocket, then put his hands on his hips. “Well, it’s supposed to be a secret right now.”

      Alice hid the excitement making her pulse race. She was way too nosy for her own good, but that also made her job a lot more interesting and challenging. “Off the record?”

      “If you don’t mind, yes. It’s been in the works for months now and soon everyone will know, but I’m here to plan a new community and I just got here this morning to officially get things started. Permits, contracts and all that.”

      “Yeah, and all that. We’d heard rumors but no one around here would talk. The mayor’s been tight-lipped. The chamber of commerce wouldn’t budge, so we just had to sit and wait. I don’t like sitting and waiting.”

      He nodded, then blew out a breath, his earnest gaze clashing with her doubting one. “Can you sit on this a bit longer, just until I get everything lined up for the town meeting next week?”

      Alice didn’t like that request. “Maybe, if you level with me.”

      “I am leveling with you.” He raised a hand. “Look around. This land is a mess. I’d like to rebuild it, only better.”

      “You mean, all bright and new and green, right?”

      “Word does spread around here.”

      “Yep. And we’re all for improving things, but…you’ll have to do a lot of tall talking to make this stick.”

      “I plan to,” he said. “That’s why I’m out here talking to myself. I’ve had people out here, checking around, but I wanted to see the land with my own eyes.”

      Alice didn’t know why he made her fidget, maybe because right this very minute he wasn’t looking at the land. He was looking at her. She wasn’t shy; she loved to talk it up with people and she was a born extrovert. That’s how she got the best angles for her feature stories. But this interesting stranger made her want to fluff her hair and put on lipstick. To ward off these strange feelings, she said, “You know, Einstein said, ‘Why remember it when you can write it down.’ I guess it’s the same with recording it, huh?”

      “Exactly.” He twirled a finger by his ear. “Sometimes, I get so much going inside my head I go into overload. I have all these plans—”

      “For our little bayou.”

      “Yes.” He pointed to the south. “You know it’s worse down that way. I want to build nice, comfortable, affordable houses so that everyone who had to leave this area can come home again. And I think the local economy would be better for it, too.”

      Alice stared at him, wondering why he was so enthusiastic about a town he’d just discovered a few months ago. “What brought you here to Bayou Rosette, anyway? I can’t see you coming here just because of my article, so why us?”

      He glanced over at her house then back into her eyes. “Honestly, it was your magazine article, Alice. I read the story of Rosette Benoit Bryson and what you wrote about the house, but you also wrote about the СКАЧАТЬ