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 history of your family…and about how dire things were after the hurricane hit. You said you wanted people to know about your bayou and your town, you wanted them to remember the past so they could rebuild for the future. That’s kinda the way I think, too. After I read it, I did my research and I knew I had to come down here and meet Rosette’s descendants. Especially the one who’d written with such pride about her ancestors. Your article made me want to do something to help this community.”
Alice didn’t know how to respond to that. So she just said, “Thank you. But it has to be more than that.”
He leaned forward, his expression solemn and sure. “It’s a whole lot more, yes. But for now, I can honestly say you’re the main reason I’m here.”
Chapter Two
“I beg your pardon? What do you mean, I’m the main reason you’re here?” She stepped closer. “You said there was a lot more to it and I think I need to know what that means.”
Jonah slapped at a mosquito buzzing by his ear. He shouldn’t have blurted that out, but it was the truth. Well, part of the truth, at least. But since she looked as if she might bolt away like a frightened doe, he tried to explain. “Your article, I mean. I told you I’m a history buff and reading your article made me want to see more of Bayou Rosette. And because of that, I decided to invest in this place.”
She looked doubtful. “So, let me get this straight. You read my article and that caused you to want to build houses across from Rosette House?”
“Yes.” He wasn’t one for sweating under pressure, but the way her big blue eyes filled with distrust made him think he was on a witness stand. What would she say if he told her the complete truth of why he was here—that he was pretty sure his relatives had once lived across the bayou from her, right here where they were standing. Since he couldn’t begin to tell her something he wasn’t even sure of himself, he only said, “Your words inspired me.”
That much was true. But more importantly, her thorough history had convinced Jonah he’d finally found a link to his past.
She burst out laughing. “Now, that’s a new one.”
“What do you mean?”
She wiped at her eyes and grinned at him. “Do you honestly expect me to believe my little feature article on the history of this house and this backwater bayou inspired you to want to come here and build houses and do good for our little town?”
“Well, yes, but when you put it like that—”
“Where exactly did you come from, anyway?”
“Shreveport,” he said, hitting at the buzz in his ear again. “These mosquitoes are getting worse now that dusk is coming.”
“Bring bug spray next time,” she suggested, her hands on her hips. “What do you do in Shreveport—besides being a history buff?”
“I’m a builder and an architect. I own a land development company—JS Building and Development, Inc. I buy up property and redevelop it.”
Her eyes narrowed, then brightened with a dangerous glint. “Well, at least you have the right credentials.”
“Yes, I do. I’ve built office complexes and parks.