The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(82)

“No, I was wrong. I need you to― to take it back.”

“I can unsuit the petition, if that’s what you really want. But I can’t do it until Monday.”

Alice let out a breath. “Okay. I can wait until then.”

“As long as you’re sure. You can’t file again. I mean, I guess we could, but you probably wouldn’t get the petition granted twice.”

“I’m sure. I thought I was doing the right thing. But I was wrong.”

“I’ll file it Monday. And if you change your mind before then, let me know.” Randy sounded as if he fully expected her to call him tomorrow and tell him she’d changed her mind― again.

“Thank you, Randy. Thank you so much.” Alice hung up. She’d spent a lot of money, wasted a lot of energy, and irritated a lot of people for nothing. Well, not nothing. She wouldn’t have been able to see the situation as clearly before. She had to reach the end before she realized she’d been going in the wrong direction the whole time.

Alice stood up, her muscles easing. She hadn’t realized how cramped she’d been, curled up against the worry and the pain. Mr. Rochester wandered by and she almost reached out to grab him up. She wanted to hug someone, right then, and tell them all about it but there was no one to tell.

Well, there was just one person and they weren’t even really speaking to each other. Alice chewed her nail for a moment and then sat back down, clicking open her email.

Dear BWK,

I know we sort of said goodbye, but I don’t have anyone else to tell this to and I’m going to burst with it. You know EBB’s verse:

God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers,

And thrusts the thing we have prayed

For in our face,

A gauntlet with a gift in it. –

That happened to me. I prayed that I was doing the right thing, but only in the way that people do when they won’t take no for an answer.

Can the Holy Spirit face-palm? If so- doing it right now in my direction. I don’t think I’ll get a second chance with the people I hurt, but I’m fixing what I ruined as best I can. And I finally feel ‘out of the swing of the sea’.

Your Alice



She sat there, staring at her email, waiting for a response. Nothing came. After a few minutes, Alice stood up and paced the store. Darcy peered down at her from the top of a range, tracking her path with unblinking green eyes.

“What do you think Darcy? Should I try to talk to Paul?” She nibbled her nails for a moment. “No, you’re right. When Elizabeth refused that first proposal, he didn’t go running back, did he?” She paced some more. “But he did send that letter explaining himself.”

Mrs. Gaskell wandered out at the sound of Alice’s voice. She scanned the room, as if wondering who else was there. Alice reached down and picked her up, not caring if she got cat hair all over her silk shirt. “And when Margaret refused Mr. Thornton, he didn’t run back to her the next day. He went on with his life.” She scratched Mrs. Gaskell behind the ears. Jane Eyre crept in, sitting near the desk in a small shaft of sunlight. “And you. When you found out about the crazy wife in the attic, you didn’t stay. You were no caged bird.”

Alice gently set Mrs. Gaskell on the ground. “All of you are telling me to keep myself safely at home and let Paul get on with his life. I get it.”

She dropped into her desk chair and stared glumly at her papers. This wasn’t where she wanted to be. She raised her eyes to the screen and saw there was another message from BWK.

Dear Alice,

I remember I kinda sorta said to ignore mopey Sara Teasdale but she wrote:

Spend all you have for loveliness

Buy it, and never count the cost;

For one white singing hour of peace

Count many a year of strife as lost.

I wish you well with making amends and I pray the people you’ve hurt will respond with grace.

Your BWK



Alice grinned at the screen. All the greatest romantic novelists of the nineteenth century said that she shouldn’t try to talk to Paul, but BWK disagreed. She read the note again, cocking her head at the kinda sorta. Paul said that the first day they’d met, when she’d accused him of murdering books. That day seemed years ago, a lifetime away.

Closing the laptop, Alice stood up and crossed the room to the poetry section. If she was going to try and make amends, she should come bearing gifts. And she knew just the book to bring.





Chapter Twenty-Four


“Despite our ever-connective technology, neither Skype nor Facebook- not even a telephone call- can come close to the joy of being with loved ones in person.”― Marlo Thomas





“No sign of reporters downstairs. They’re camped across the street but the guards are doing a good job keeping them away from the door.” Andy dropped a package into Paul’s lap. “You had something overnighted? I hope it’s pair of leggy models for the opening. I still don’t have a date.”

Paul glanced over and then logged out of the raid he was running with a team. The dungeon was boring him anyway.

“Hey, no need for that.” Andy frowned at his bad manners. A guy didn’t just drop a game and leave your buddies in the lurch.

“I’ll say it was a bad connection,” Paul said and reached for the package. “It’s a book I needed for the site. Alice sent it to the P.O. box.”