These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance by Mary Jane Hathaway

store. “I
live upstairs.” She waved a hand. “Nice to see you both again.”
                “Don’t
forget,” Gideon said. “Tonight at six, Trudeau Street.”
                Henry
almost missed her step. “Right. See you then.” Of course she hadn’t forgotten.
As she slipped through the back door and up the old wooden staircase to her
apartment, she berated herself. She needed to act like a professional, not some
awe-struck fan. No more poetry quoting, no more commenting on the lack of
privacy, and absolutely no more discussions on dating.
                                                                ***
                They
were hardly out the door when Tom turned to him, a grin spreading over his
face. “Well, now.”
                Gideon
stared straight ahead, refusing to take the bait. He was wishing he’d parked
closer because he knew how much talking Tom could do in the length of a block.
                “That
was interesting,” Tom said. “Very, very interesting.”
                He
kept his expression neutral and watched two young boys navigate the historic
district sidewalk crowd on their scooters. There was the tiniest bit of breeze
coming off the water but he felt like he was wearing a sweater in the humidity
and he ran a finger under his collar.
                “Oh,
come on,” Tom finally said, reaching out and nudging him with an elbow.
                “What?”
                “Talk
to me,” Tom said, laughter in his voice. “You saw it. Everyone saw it.”
                “I
still have no idea what it is you’re talking about.”
                “You
stopped her in her tracks. She was like a swamp toad in the beam of the
flashlight.”
                Gideon
threw him a look. Tom was being intentionally ridiculous just to get a rise out
of him. “I didn’t see anything like that.”
                “She
was mid-sentence when we came in and lost her train of thought. Then she
couldn’t even find words to explain herself,” Tom said.
                 “I
told you, she has some kind of anxiety disorder. I don’t think it’s funny at
all.”
                Confusion
flicked over his face. “I don’t think so. I’ve talked to her before when she’s
visited St. Augustine’s with Birdie and Frank. She seemed a little serious, but
plenty able to hold a conversation.”
                “Maybe
there were too many people today. Maybe she does better with just a few
friends.” Gideon thought of how she’d been nervous when she’d first met him,
but her nerves seemed to translate into babbling rather than reticence.
                “Or
she was fine until certain people showed up,” Tom said, the smile returning to
his face.  He dodged a little white dog straining at his leash and tossed a
wave to the older woman attempting to get him under control. “I mean, I
understand. You’re a good-looking guy and it’s natural for her to give you a
second glance, especially―”
                “I
don’t really want to talk about this.” Gideon stuffed his hands in his pockets
and walked faster. “You can’t say for sure why she acted the way she did. Maybe
she’s afraid of me. You were just saying I needed to lay off the weight
lifting.”
                 “I
think I know what fear looks like.” Tom kept pace with him.
“In fact, you’re doing really good impression of a guy who’s had his cage
rattled.”
                Gideon
spotted his car and let out an internal sigh of relief. He loved Tom like a
brother but the guy didn’t know when to quit. “I don’t really want to talk
about this anymore.”
                “And
why so insistent working separately?” Tom said, completely ignoring Gideon.