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  She slid her hand out from his. “Thanks.” Her lips turned into a sly smirk while she arched her left eyebrow. “About my car?”

  This diminutive damsel in despair could hold her own. “I’ll call you when I know something. May not be until tomorrow afternoon.”

  Ms. Vivian stepped forward. “We’ll be at my house if you have any questions. Her car is the dark blue little thing. Can’t miss it. It’s parked on the west side of the road. Noel, you’ve had a tiring day. How does a long soak in a hot bath and a comfortable bed sound?”

  “Sounds great.” Noel turned toward Justin. “Here are the keys.”

  He lifted them from her outstretched hand. The scent of sweet almond drifted toward him making him take in a deep breath. The smell took him back to fifth grade when he sat behind Angie Melancon, the first girl to steal his heart.

  “Very well then. We’re having Cheryl and Beau’s bridal shower tomorrow. Al and Cookie are coming.” She tapped a long index finger on Justin’s chest. “And so are you. We’ll see you around one o’clock.”

  “Whaa…Ms. Viv—”

  “Nope. I won’t hear otherwise.” She strolled toward the door with Noel close behind.

  Surely, there had to be a way to decline Ms. Vivian’s invitation? A bridal shower? Was she serious? He could think of thousands of things he’d rather do on Sunday afternoon. Like watching football, for one.

  Then again, if he did go, he’d see the damsel again. Maybe it would be worth sitting through.

  Wait a minute. No. What was he thinking? His career needed his focus. No need for romantic entanglements in his life right now. Especially, with a cute firecracker like Noel.

  Trois

  Noel returned to Vivian’s car and took several deep breaths to ease the churning in her stomach. She only thought getting stranded on a dark and scary road in the Louisiana swamp was the worst that could happen. But meeting Justin Gravois in person took the lead. Of all the rotten luck. She had to get her car fixed, meet her father, and leave here as soon as possible.

  As Vivian turned into the driveway to her house, Noel took in the array of Christmas decorations. Lighted snowmen dotted the yard. A life-sized cardboard Santa waved from a narrow canoe-like boat hitched to a team of alligators, and the centerpiece, a large blow-up crawfish danced in the evening breeze. Noel stared. She’d never seen anything quite like this unusual display.

  “We’re here.” Vivian parked the car in the garage beneath the house.

  Noel gathered her suitcase and several shopping bags from the backseat.

  “C’mon, we’ll take the elevator up.” Vivian guided her to a small enclosure in the middle of the garage.

  Noel stepped onto the second floor into an expansive living room with a cedar-lined ceiling. Christmas decorations covered every possible surface. It must have taken weeks to do this.

  “Let me show you to the guest room. I hope you like purple.” Vivian dropped the bags onto the sectional in her living room and motioned for Noel to do the same.

  Noel caught up to Vivian at the door of a bedroom—one that seemed plucked from the pages of those southern magazines Noel had browsed in her doctor’s waiting room. She stood next to the white iron bed topped with a purple flowered comforter. Matching drapes flanked the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  Vivian pointed to an antique dresser adjacent to the bed. “For your folding clothes. There’re hangers in the closet if you need them.”

  “Mrs. Broussard, I insist on paying you for my stay here. This is so kind of you to take me in like this.”

  Vivian tossed the decorative pillows off the bed into the corner, ending with a pile the height of Noel. “Oh, honey. Not to worry. You can help with the bridal shower tomorrow. Somebody’s got to help eat all the food we’ll have.” She grinned. “Besides, I couldn’t bear the thought of you walking out there all alone. You must have been scared.”

  Noel nodded. “I was shaking in my loafers.”

  Vivian glanced at Noel’s feet. “I hope dat’s not the only pair of shoes you brought.”

  “I’m afraid so.” Once she’d found the love letter to her mother from Delton Detiveaux, all her common sense flew south along with her grandiose hopes of finally meeting the man she thought was, or rather she knew was, her father.

  “I’ll make a few phone calls. We’ll get you something to wear. What size are you?”

  “Five and a-half or six? Depends on the style.”

  “My word, girl. I believe I was born with bigger feet than dat.” Vivian smiled and pulled back the covers. “There’s a bathroom there.” She pointed to a closed door on the opposite side of the room. “There’s towels, extra toothbrush, a whole slew of stuff, but let me know if there’s anyt’ing you need.”

  Vivian walked to the door and then turned, “Noel I understand your need to know your father. It’s a longing so deep inside you wonder how you’ll ever quench dat thirst.” Her gaze sought Noel’s. “It’s just…that…sometimes…well, we’ll talk later. For now, you take a good long bath and sleep well.”

  She stepped out into the hallway but then poked her head around the doorframe. “Oh, we go to church at nine. You are welcome to join us. The whole family comes. We sit in the pew behind Al, Cookie, and Justin when he’s in town.” She winked at Noel and closed the bedroom door.

  Noel’s head spun. Her car, this woman, her father so close, and now, Justin. She gathered her toiletries bag, ran the water into the claw-foot tub, poured in the gardenia scented bubble bath, and then peeled off her dirt-crusted shoes.

  When she slid into the warm, foaming bath, she closed her eyes and let the flowered fragrance envelop.

  Again, her thoughts whirled. Had it only been a week? She’d been cleaning out her mother’s closet when she’d found the journal and a box filled with letters from Delton Detiveaux professing his undying love to her mother. Her mother’s journal confirmed Delton as her father. Why had they never married? Spiraling thoughts reached deep into her soul.

  One question bashed a dent in her confidence. Why had her mother never told Delton about her?

  Had her mother not wanted her to know her father? If that was true, was her being here something her mother wouldn’t approve? Maybe she should abandon this crazy search.

  And what was she going to do about Justin? Of all the places to end up one week before Christmas—a no-name town with an upcoming baseball superstar working on her defunct car. What was that about?

  She surely hadn’t expected him to be so handsome in person. Or so nice. Which made her scathing article last year about how he’d choked at his first chance to pitch in the majors even more biting.

  Did he have to be so blasted good-looking? She’d never been so captivated by such intense green eyes. And that smile, it could have lit up half of Louisiana. Maybe she’d get her car back soon, and he’d never have to know that she was Micki Barrett, the sports reporter who wrote the unflattering article about his failed debut in the majors.

  ****

  “Front pew. Right, Mrs. Benoit?” Justin opened the church door and escorted the grinning Mrs. Benoit to her seat. Before he could slip away to join his family, she grabbed his face with both hands and planted her cherry-red lips on his cheek.

  “Uh, oh. You’ve got lipstick on your cheek. Here, let me.” She held onto his face with one hand and with the other, smeared her thumb across the spot she’d kissed.

  Justin, in full view of the congregation, resisted the pressing urge to cringe. “It’s OK, Mrs. Benoit. I’ll get it.” If she licked her thumb and tried again, he would lose it. He flashed a smile and gently removed her hand. “I’ll come for you after the service.”

  “But you still have lipstick on your face.” She licked her thumb and reached toward him.

  Oh, no. No way. He backed away. “It’s OK. I’ll take care of it.”

  She exhaled and lowered onto the pew. “If you insist. I’ll be right here waiting after the service.”

  Of course, the men’s
room was in the back of the church. As he passed Nonc Al and Tante Cookie, she handed him a tissue. As he reached for his aunt’s offering, he met Noel’s gaze. She quickly turned away, but he was sure she’d been watching him. In that moment, he saw the twinkle he’d seen last night. He lifted his hand to his face and walked faster.

  What was it about that girl that turned him into a blubbering fool?

  A quick check in the mirror confirmed his suspicion. A deep red smudge marred his cheek in the shape of the letter C.

  What had Noel thought? And why did he care? It’s not like he planned to see her. Well, maybe to discuss her car, but that would be strictly business.

  Clean cheeked, he walked back into the church and found his seat next to Nonc Al. The familiar piano music filtered from the front and a favorite hymn began.

  From the pew behind him, a sweet voice sang the tune in perfect pitch. He itched to turn around, because he suspected the songstress was Noel.

  Later, when Pastor Jerry spoke on allowing your life to be guided by God’s plan, Justin paused. Was his desire to pitch in the majors his plan only? Did God not want the same for him? One thing was certain; Justin had lapsed in praying about his future. Why? He couldn’t say except that a part of him feared the answer God provided might not be what he wanted to hear.

  After church, he turned to say hello to Noel. Too late. Her dark brown hair reflected the morning sun as she walked down the aisle.

  Disappointed, he went to help Mrs. Benoit.

  After dropping off the elderly lady and enduring another smudge-filled kiss, he returned home to examine Noel’s car. When he lifted the hood, the image of golden-brown eyes and the sound of her angelic voice played in his head. What was a Colorado girl doing here in bayou country anyway?

  “See anything?” Nonc Al sidled next to him.

  “Not yet, but give me time. I’ll figure it out.” His clenched gut told him it was about more than the non-working hunk of iron before him. This unease was about the girl. He’d figure her out too.

  “Justin, remember we don’t work on Sunday. You can run the diagnostics, but that’s it. Besides, we don’t have much time. We’re expected at this couple’s shower thing at Cousin Viv’s place in half an hour.”

  “I think I’ll pass. Would you tell her that I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with Noel’s car?”

  Nonc Al’s brows arched. “Really, is that what you’re going with? We’ll have plenty of time to check this car out on Monday.”

  Justin plugged in the diagnostics computer to the fitting under the dash. Maybe he could get a code to tell him what the trouble was. “I promised I’d have some news for her this afternoon.”

  “I see.” Nonc Al nodded. “I see. This young lady’s got you all nervous or something.”

  Or something. Justin wasn’t sure why visions of Noel continued to dance in his head. He couldn’t shake the image of those large round eyes and the way their amber color reflected light like some precious gem, as though they were on fire from inside.

  “Yep, I’ve seen that look before.”

  “What look?”

  “The one you’re sportin’.”

  “I’m just a little distracted because I got another job added to my already long list.”

  “Uh-huh, whatever you say.” Nonc Al walked away and headed toward the back door. Near the threshold, he stopped. “I’m gonna get ready. I’ll be sure to tell Cousin Viv that you’ll be along later.”

  Justin raised his voice so his uncle could hear him from inside the car. “Don’t count on it. This may take longer than you think.”

  In fact, he was sure it would take as long as the shower did. He didn’t want to go, and well, he was a grown man. If he didn’t want to do something, he didn’t have to. He leaned on the seat and read the unfamiliar codes on the LED of the handheld reader. As he disconnected the reader, a couple of objects on the floor caught his attention. A wallet and a hairbrush. Surely, Noel would have noticed her missing wallet. Wouldn’t she? And the brush, the dark strands were surely hers.

  He unbuttoned the flap and glanced at the driver’s license. Twinkling brown eyes and a brilliant smile stared back at him. Whose driver’s license picture looked that good?

  “Great.” Now he’d have to go to Ms. Vivian’s.

  Quatre

  Noel sat at Vivian’s large kitchen table, which was filled with an overabundance of Cajun dishes surrounded by eight people all talking at once. Vivian had made quick introductions before church. Hopefully, Noel could remember everyone’s name.

  She passed the bowl of field peas to her right and into Vivian’s daughter, Cheryl Broussard’s, waiting hands.

  “So, Noel, what do you do for a living?” Cheryl asked.

  “I’m a journalist. I work for a local newspaper in Colorado Springs.” She’d intentionally kept her voice low and her words vague. If word spread that she’d written the article calling Justin a no-talent wanna-be, she was pretty sure he’d change from nice Cajun boy to Swamp Thing in a millisecond.

  She liked Cheryl. There was something calming about her. “What do you do?”

  “I’m a hospice nurse,” she said.

  “Oh, I bet that can be pretty emotional at times.” The nurse who’d been with Noel’s mother in her final days had been wonderful. They’d cried together after her mom’s death.

  Cheryl nodded. “It can be, but it’s what God has called me to do, so He gives me what I need.”

  Her mother’s dying wish was that Noel would have a deeper faith in God. The sermon this morning had touched on living a life of God’s will. Had God called her to anything? It wasn’t something she’d ever considered. “My mother had a wonderful hospice nurse.”

  Cheryl placed her fingers gently on Noel’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry you lost your mama. That’s hard. Mama said you’re here looking for your father?” She took the basket of homemade rolls from Noel.

  “Yes. I believe Delton Detiveaux, the State Congressional Representative for this area, is my father.” Noel had researched and found a picture. One that showcased his shining brown eyes—eyes like hers. An answer to the long-standing question of where she’d gotten her unusual-colored eyes.

  “Have you contacted him?”

  “No, I thought I’d surprise him.”

  Cheryl turned her shoulders slightly toward Noel and cast a tender gaze toward her. “Honey, first off, Delton’s leaving in a couple of days. He and his family take a ski trip to the mountains for Christmas. And secondly, do you think it’s a good idea to surprise him?”

  Only a few days to meet her father. She’d thought this a good idea before she left; now, doubts as big and diverse as the dishes on the table filled her. “I did. Now, not so much.”

  “Whatever help you need, we’re available. If you need a ride out there or someone to call him, I’m available, and I’m sure Mama would be too.

  “That’s so kind of you, but I feel I’ve already imposed enough.”

  “Nonsense, we’re happy to help. Mama and I would love to have you stick around and be part of all the festivities this week.”

  “I can’t just stay here for a week. I’d feel like a freeloader.” Noel touched the tip of her tongue to the spoon filled with seafood gumbo. She’d never had gumbo before. Well, never homemade gumbo. The kind from the box probably didn’t count.

  “That’s nonsense. I’m sure Mama will keep you busy helping her out. Nothing Mama hates more than grocery shopping. You can help her in that department. You’d be helping me out too. There’s still so much to do before my wedding. Maybe you can stay and be our guest?”

  “When’s the wedding?”

  “New Year’s Day.”

  Two weeks away. Could she be gone from work that long? She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  She’d left enough assignments to cover her until after Christmas, but through New Year’s Day? Her boss said take all the time she needed. He’d assured her, he’d e-mail any pressing assignments. For
now, she just wanted to concentrate on meeting her father and staying as far away from Justin Gravois as possible.

  ****

  Justin parked his pickup near the street and walked up the long driveway to Ms. Vivian’s house. He couldn’t imagine putting out this many Christmas decorations, or even worse, picking them up after Christmas. Cars parked in rows filled the area of the lawn that wasn’t covered in yard art. With this many people here for the shower, he’d hate to see how big the wedding would be. Of course, he was back in Louisiana. That’s how things were here. So many family members came out to support one another.

  And to eat.

  If eating was ever made an Olympic sport, Justin felt pretty confident his clan of relatives would take home the gold.

  Tucked into the inside pocket of his leather jacket, the weight of Noel’s wallet pressed against his chest. He’d find her, give her the wallet, say a quick hello to Ms. Vivian so she’d know he came, and then he’d head out. A run this afternoon was what he needed. Something to push his muscles and take his mind off distracting things. Like a pixie of a girl with big brown eyes.

  “Justin, you made it. Come in. Come in.” Ms. Vivian, dressed in a plum blouse, greeted him at the door. The violet of her eyes sparkled as she grabbed his elbow and dragged him through the house, weaving in and out of cousins standing around with plates of food.

  Once at the center of the huge living room she stopped. “Everyone. Hello. Everyone.” She yelled into the crowd. Once the house quieted and the guests turned toward her, she pointed to Justin.

  “Look who I have here. The famous baseball player, our very own, Justin Gravois. Show him some love today.” She kissed his cheek and winked. “Have fun. Oh, and Noel’s in the kitchen. She’s been looking for you.” With that, she flittered off into the crowd.

  A distant relative Justin barely remembered offered him a plate teeming with fried food. While he loved the offering, he hadn’t had anything fried since the last time he’d been home for Christmas, and it had kept his stomach churning the entire day. Not something he wanted to repeat. “No, thanks, man.”