Gift of Wonder. Lenora Worth

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      “Family is everything to me,” Alice said. “Can’t you understand?”

      “Oh, I know all about family,” Jonah replied. He looked straight into her eyes. “My biological mother was a Mayeaux and I managed to trace her back to Bayou Rosette. I’m pretty sure she was one of the younger sisters of the infamous Mayeux brothers.”

      Alice had to grab the nearest chair for support. “Wow.”

      “Yeah, wow. When I read the article you wrote about this bayou, it triggered something in me, Alice. So yes, I did come here to build houses, to rebuild, but while I’m here, I’d like to find out something about my roots. My lack of roots. Why did my mother give me up? That’s the big question.”

      Alice’s heart turned to mush. She could see the torment in his eyes. “I’d be willing to help you answer that question…if you want.”

      MILLS & BOON

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      LENORA WORTH

      has written more than thirty books, most of those for Steeple Hill. She also works freelance for a local magazine, where she has written monthly opinion columns, feature articles and social commentaries. She also wrote for five years for the local paper. Married to her high-school sweetheart for thirty-three years, Lenora lives in Louisiana and has two grown children and a cat. She loves to read, take long walks and sit in her garden.

      Gift of Wonder

      Lenora Worth

      He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted

      —Job 5:9

      To Community Renewal International.

       Because I CARE!

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      “Who in the world is that?”

      Alice Bryson put down her iced tea and stood against the balustrade of the old front porch so she could stare across Bayou Rosette at the man walking underneath the oaks along the opposite shore.

      Her older sister, Lorene Hobert, glanced up from her cross-stitching, squinting in the late-afternoon sun to get a better glimpse of the stranger about forty yards away on the other side of the marshy bank. “Well, he’s certainly a tall drink of water, isn’t he?”

      “I’ll say,” Alice replied, her hand going up to shade her eyes as she watched the attractive brown-haired man meticulously measuring off the property with his booted feet. “He has some sort of gadget in his hand. Looks like a pocket watch or a cell phone. He seems to be talking to it.”

      “Maybe it’s a compass,” Lorene said, chuckling. “Maybe he’s lost and disoriented. Of course, I talk to myself a lot, too.”

      Alice grinned at that. “If he’s a city boy, he just might be lost.” And the way he was dressed in a lightweight gray suit and crisp blue shirt indicated he sure wasn’t from around these parts.

      “Why don’t you walk across the footbridge and help the poor fellow,” Lorene suggested, her ever-present matchmaking skills shining through. As the older, married Bryson sister, Lorene, who was expecting her first child in a few weeks, deemed it necessary to introduce Alice to every available man in sight. Even perfect strangers.

      “Why would he be measuring off land with his feet if he’s lost?” Alice asked while she admired the man’s muscular, athletic frame and his shiny, light brown hair.

      Lorene stopped stitching again, then lowered her needlepoint frame onto her growing belly. “He might be a surveyor. Remember all those rumors in town that some big company’s coming in to build a whole new community—to replace the houses lost from the hurricane? Maybe he’s scouting for land or something.”

      Alice shot a look at her sister to see if she was being sarcastic. Lorene glowed with good health. Pregnancy sure agreed with her. Lorene’s blue eyes sparkled and her freckled, fair skin shimmered, partly from that glow and partly from the late-fall heat of southern Louisiana. But Lorene looked pretty…and in love. But not sarcastic. Good, Alice thought with relief. She didn’t need any teasing remarks today.

      She huffed a breath and hid the tinge of envy she felt toward her sister. Then she quickly replaced the envy with thankful thoughts as she asked God to continue blessing Lorene. And her. While their old homeplace had survived the hurricane, not everyone had been so lucky. Most of the homes around here had suffered some sort of damage. And many across the bayou, where the wind and water had been worse, had been torn down.

      “I’ve heard those same rumors, of course,” she said as she sank back against one of the wide porch-posts. “But they were never substantiated, so I couldn’t write anything based on rumors. Even tried to get the mayor to talk to me about this. But I never believed anything would actually happen, in spite of the buzz. We’ve been forgotten here on Bayou Rosette.”

      “Not entirely,” Lorene replied, taking up her work again. “Jay says the word in church this morning was that some big corporation is going to rebuild the whole town but with a more environmentally sound and economical plan—seems Bayou Rosette is going green.”

      “Are you sure? I think I would have heard something down at the magazine if anything definite had been decided.”

      “It’s hush-hush, according to Jay.” Lorene stretched, then rubbed her stomach. “But he heard it straight from a town council member. Strictly confidential, so don’t go telling anyone at the magazine about this.”

      Alice let out a groan. “You know I can’t do that without stirring the pot. So why didn’t you say something sooner, anyway?”

      Lorene looked apologetic. “I forgot about it after we got home from church. I had one thing on my mind—eating lunch. And I’m getting hungry again. I’ll heat up the pot roast when Jay gets back from his meeting.”

      Alice turned back toward the man across the way. “You might be right about our mysterious visitor. It has been quiet around here lately. Too quiet. Nobody’s