Sweetheart Reunion. Lenora Worth

“Five minutes, then I have to get back. I’ve got pies to bake tonight and bread to mix for the morning rush.”

       He nodded and held her hand tight to his. “I won’t take you far.”

       Oh, but he would, she knew. He could, if she let him. Julien was a ladies’ man, handsome and playful and larger than life. A man who danced with the girls at the fais-do-do. A man who charmed women with just a wink and a smile. He could take her to places she’d stopped dreaming about going. He could also break her heart again.

       But Alma had enough heartbreak already to last her a long, long time. She wouldn’t add falling for Julien LeBlanc to that list. Not a second time, anyway.

       “It is a nice night,” she said, just to test her voice to see if she could speak. The sweet scent of honeysuckle tickled her nose.

       “It is at that.”

       He glanced over at her while they strolled along the worn dirt path beside what they called Bayou Petite. It was just a small tributary shooting out of the big open canal that ran along the main road in Fleur. Big Fleur Bayou, that one was called. The town had been built around Big Fleur.

       “So you had a productive day?” she asked, simply because being silent made her think way too much about him. And wonder why today of all days, she’d let him get to her.

       Maybe because, today of all days, he’d actually made the effort.

       “We did. Crawfish season is wide open but prices might be steep. And this year’s spring shrimp season has to be better than last fall.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m ready. More than ready.”

       Alma pushed aside a low cypress branch, the greening of the tree shining in the dusk like fireflies. “It’ll soon be time for the spring festival.”

       “And the blessing of the fleets,” Julien added. “We need lots of blessings.”

       Alma stopped at an old bench. “Let’s sit.”

       Surprised colored his face. “You want to sit with me a spell, catin?”

       “I’ve been on my feet all day.” It was the best excuse she could find. She didn’t dare tell him that even while making small talk around him, she became breathless.

       He gave her a low bow and, with a flourish, wiped the wooden bench clear of fallen leaves and debris. “Your throne awaits, my queen.”

       Alma laughed at his antics, her face muscles stretching wide. Maybe she should laugh more. “You’re such a clown.”

       He sank down beside her then smiled over at her. “I made you laugh, so I don’t mind being called a couillon. And you have to know, when you laugh it sounds like a melody.”

       “You’re also full of baloney,” she retorted, touched that he liked her laugh. She had to admit, it was good to see him laughing, too. They’d both lost a parent and while her mother had been gone for years, Julien’s father had died only a few short months ago. Had that changed Julien?

       “I do put on a good show.” He went quiet and kept his eyes on her. “But then, you know that better than most.”

       She couldn’t answer that. She did know it better than most. Underneath all that jovial bluster, Julien had a heart as big as the bay. He laughed a lot, talked a lot and held a lot inside.

       “It’s been a while since we’ve just sat and visited,” he said, looking out at the dark water. “Life just keeps on going.”

       “It does. I’m always so busy with the café.”

       “You need to slow down.”

       “You could take that same advice yourself.”

       Julien nodded, his actions causing his wild mop of dark hair to fall around his forehead. “Can’t rest, darlin’. Too much to do. Work’s hard to come by these days.”

       “You’ve always been a solid worker.”

       He turned then, moving close. So close she could see the flecks of brown in his onyx eyes. “So you have noticed some of my redeeming qualities?”

       “You have redeeming qualities?”

       He laughed again. “Non. Not a one.”

       But Alma knew that wasn’t exactly true. Julien loved living here on this bayou. Like most of the men around here, he’d learned how to fish and hunt while he was still practically in diapers. It was in his blood. And like most of the people she knew, he worked two jobs just to help his family make ends meet. He had changed a lot since high school. She’d heard through the bayou grapevine that he’d stopped drinking after his daddy died.

       Alma prayed that was the truth. She prayed that Julien would settle down and find true happiness. But she didn’t dare pray that he might one day love her again.

       “How’s your mama?” she asked now, always worried. The women around here didn’t take care of themselves and health care was a joke—not very affordable or available. Julien’s mother had a lot of health problems.

       “She’s doing okay,” he said, the sparkle leaving his eyes. “She has her good days. Just has to watch that old ticker. Heart disease ain’t pretty.”

       “Take care of her, Julien.”

       He took her hand again. “I will, I promise. But what about you and your sisters?”

       Alma knew what he was asking. What about the cancer? Are you all safe?

       “Callie is doing great. Her last checkup was a positive one—all clear.” She thought about what Callie had been through and said a silent prayer for her sister. “And Brenna—you know her. Always going and doing. A busy career woman. But she’s good at her job and she loves working for the art gallery. She talks about planning her wedding, but I’m not sure that will ever happen.”

       He turned toward Alma then. “And you?”

       What about her? She couldn’t tell him the secrets of her heart. “I’m okay. Tired. Missing my mama today. Wishing for things—”

       “What kind of things?”

       Alma swallowed back the hopes and dreams, refusing to let them float to the surface. “You know, more money to pay bills and less hours spent in that café. More time with Papa and my sisters. More… I don’t know. I’m content, Julien. Just content.”

       “Is that all you want out of life? To be ‘just content’?”

       She wanted to shout to him, no, she wanted more. She wanted him to tell her he had changed…she wanted to forgive him for his youthful indiscretions. But Alma had been through so much pain, she was almost afraid to look for love and a family. What if she found someone—other than the man staring at her now—and then she got sick like Mama had? Would that person stand by her through such a sickness? Or worse, what if she gave in to Julien’s flirtations and fell for him all over again, only to get her heart broken one more time or to only get sick the way her mama had gotten sick? She couldn’t put carefree, laid-back Julien through that. She didn’t want to put any man through that.

       “You have that look, chère,” he whispered against her hair.

       “What look is that?”

       “That faraway look. It breaks my heart.”

       Did everyone around here know her so well?

       “I’ll be fine, Julien. It’s just, spring always makes me think of Mama. She loved her garden, loved spring on the bayou. It’s hard sometimes.”

       He looked out over the water, his gaze following two fussy wood ducks. “My daddy’s birthday is next month.”

       Alma’s heart broke open a little bit. “Oh, that’s right. He always loved this time of year. He used to tease that we only had the seafood festival to celebrate his birthday.”