Southern Comfort (9 page)

“I don’t get it out much anymore because I just don’t go down the steps to the cellar. It’s too steep for me now.” The other ladies nodded as if their cellar stairs were in the same condition as Bitty’s.

“So have any of you ladies seen the ghost?”

“This town is full ghosts,” Myrtle said.

Selma nodded in agreement.

Bitty shook her head. “Don’t listen to Selma. She doesn’t know. She wasn’t even born here
and
she’s practically a Yankee.”

“How can one be practically a Yankee?” He hoped he didn’t regret asking that.

Selma frowned at her two friends. “I
was
a Yankee. Though it doesn’t seem to matter that I moved here in 1964. They will always and forever consider me a Yankee.”

Newland chuckled, realizing that if he stayed longer than two weeks he would be in the same boat with Selma Loveland-Pierce.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Natalie let the screen door slam behind her as she stepped onto the porch. Whether it was her presence or the bang of the door she didn’t know, but Newland jumped, startled out of his own thoughts.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He pulled his long legs in, closer to the chair so that she could walk by. She sat down next to him. Her aunt had always had wooden rockers on the front porch, a small table in between. It was the perfect setup for coming outside and drinking iced tea or mint juleps or whatever happened to be the beverage of the day.

But the day was practically over and Natalie was just now getting around to bringing up last night.

“I need to talk to you about the kiss.” Well, it was a start. “I’m going to marry Gerald Davenport and that was just a big mistake. You kissing me, that is.” She chanced a look at him though she couldn’t see much of his expression on the dim porch. Why hadn’t she turned the light on before she came out here? There was a lamppost in the yard that cast some illumination and the light coming from the windows, but it wasn’t enough to know what was going on behind those exotic brown eyes.

“I see. And does Gerald Davenport know the two of you are going to get married?”

Natalie blustered. “Of course.” How absurd. Of course Gerald knew they were getting married. “I’ll have you know that we have been dating exclusively for the entire year.”

“Like an entire calendar year or since January?”

Natalie tossed her head, not liking the direction this was going at all. “I hardly see that it matters. I just wanted to be sure you understood. That won’t happen again.”

“It might.”

She wished she could see his face. Was he teasing? Was he being serious? Was he trying to ruin her life? “I thought I needed to be open with you. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

He turned in his seat, his gaze raking over her. She didn’t need any illumination to know the heat behind that gaze. “Oh, I don’t think I have the wrong idea at all.”

Natalie jumped to her feet. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Newland shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve seen it before.”

“Seen what?” She was growing weary of this game.

“A bright and funny girl like yourself, spunky and beautiful, who thinks she’s in love with someone completely wrong for her.”

Natalie crossed her arms and leveled her gaze on him. She hoped even with the darkness he could see the venom she flashed his way. “You think Gerald’s completely wrong for me?”

“Yeah. I do.” He stretched out his long legs, once again effectively blocking any escape she might’ve made. Or maybe she didn’t want to escape. No, that couldn’t be it.

“And whatever gives you that idea? You’ve only known me for a day and a half and you think you know what kind of man I need?”

He nodded but didn’t bother to say anything. His silence just infuriated her more. “So tell me, oh wise one, what sort of man is it that I need?”

He unfolded himself from the chair and she wished she hadn’t have asked. He towered over her, so close, smelling so good, and just being … him.

“You need someone who can handle you. Someone who can give you as good as you give. Not someone who’s a puppet to the system, who caves at propriety, and wouldn’t know how to have a good time if it came up and bit them on the—”

“I’ll have you know—” Natalie sputtered to a stop. She had no argument for Newland’s description of Gerald. He did follow propriety, and he didn’t seek out good times just for the sake of a good time. But what was wrong with that? So their dates consisted of benefit dinners and benefit auctions and benefit meetings. That didn’t mean he didn’t know how to have a regular good time. They were just busy people. And as for being a puppet to the system, the system was what made the world go round. “All of that is why he’s perfect for me.”

To her amazement Newland started to chuckle. “Have you looked at your life lately?”

Why was he standing so close to her? They had the entire wraparound porch at their disposal yet he seemed determined to stand directly in her space. She took a step sideways hoping to gain a little room and a whole lot of fresh air. Air that wasn’t filled with him. “What’s wrong with my life?”

“Sugar, if you haven’t noticed by now, your life is utter chaos.”

She sniffed. “Which is exactly why I need someone like Gerald.” He would have a calming effect on them all. She’d spent her life making sure that things went smoothly. She’d practically taken on all financial responsibility for the family at age seventeen. Once her parents knew that she had an affinity for numbers and finances, they’d headed to Grand Cayman.

They stopped in every so often, mostly in between their stays in tropical regions. But as long as they had her to monitor the family fortune, their presence wasn’t needed.

“Do you know that I just had to talk your aunt and her two elderly friends out of drinking moonshine?”

Natalie rolled her eyes. “Dear God, I thought I had gotten rid of all that.”

“You better check the cellar. She swears there are some jars down there.” He looked around as if he could find the underground room in the pitch-black night. “Where is it anyway?”

“Around back. There’s a door. It looks like it might be a basement. I think some of the northern houses have doors like that for basements. Ours leads down into a cold cellar.”

“Well, they didn’t go in it because the stairs are too steep, and I refused to go down there and get it for them. You’re welcome.”

Natalie sighed. Okay, if she was being honest with herself, her life was chaos. But that was her job: making it not chaos. Once she had Gerald Davenport on her side, she would have double the power to make the not chaos spread throughout the Coleman-Duncan clan.

She made a mental note to get down there and get out the moonshine. If her aunt could manage in one day to get Newland painting the foyer then after a week of this, she would probably have him taking dancing lessons with her. That was Aunt Bitty; she could charm the socks off a monkey.

But they had gotten way off-topic.

Natalie brushed past Newland and headed back to the door. She paused there, turning to shoot him her best “I’ve got this” smile. “So about that kiss. I hope you understand.” And with that she reentered the house, once again letting the screen door bang shut behind her.

• • •

Newland watched her go, somehow managing to keep the chuckle from falling from his lips. She was something else. But even more than that, she was clueless.

Oh, she was smart. He’d figured that out long ago. But there was something about Natalie Coleman that seemed surprisingly naïve. Like she really thought she could control her genius brother and her eccentric aunt. The two of them would keep her busy until Jesus came back.

He shook his head at his own thoughts. He had been in the South two days and he had already been here too long. He was already starting to sound like them. “Them” being the three ladies who’d skinned him playing poker tonight. Somehow this place was getting under his skin.

Then there was Natalie. The kiss last night had been amazing. If he was truly being honest with himself it was the best kiss he’d had in a long time.

He knew what he was talking about when he told Natalie that she needed somebody with more spunk than she had. Gerald Davenport was not that person. But thinking about spunky women and stuffed-shirt men brought thoughts of Roxanne and Malcolm back to mind.

Newland hadn’t gone to the wedding. He should have, just to get some closure on the whole situation. He
had
fancied himself in love with her, once. But more than anything he wanted to take the pain from her eyes, give her back some of the joy that he knew she’d had once upon a time. But she didn’t feel the same.

What was a guy to do? Propose marriage, follow her to Tennessee, and make an utter fool of himself?

Well, no more. First of all, Tennessee was behind him now. And if he happened to be in the state of Mississippi for much longer, he wasn’t about to make a fool out of himself over another woman. Not even Natalie Coleman with her silky brown hair and sky blue eyes. She was not the girl for him. Though he wouldn’t mind stealing another kiss sometime soon.

• • •

Newland made his way downstairs about the same time Thursday morning as he did the day before.

But today was different.

Natalie was seated at the breakfast table sharing biscuits and jelly with her aunt and her brother. Yesterday morning he had been disappointed to find Natalie already gone by the time he came downstairs. But he’d enjoyed himself, talking with Bitty about the town and other things, problems with the school board, Josephine’s boyfriend, and Myrtle’s mortgage payment.

“Good morning,” he called to everybody. He stopped off at the buffet and poured himself a cup of coffee before settling down on the other side of Natalie.

She shot him a look that said
this means nothing
. What was it that had her so jumpy around him? So he was sitting by her at breakfast. Did that really matter? Something was up with her.

Maybe she could feel the pull that existed between them. She wanted to ignore it because she was set to marry a stuffed shirt. But Newland didn’t see a ring on her finger. Still, he had other reasons to disregard the attraction. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved with a southern belle.

“Good morning,” Bitty sing-songed. Natalie and Aubie echoed something that sounded like “morning,” but Newland wasn’t keeping score.

He reached for the butter, and said in an offhand manner, “Glad I got here in time.” He nodded toward the two lone biscuits he’d snagged from the plate. There were a couple of pieces of bacon left and a little bit of sliced cantaloupe. But that was all.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I thought you might want to sleep in today.”

“Yeah?” He scraped the last of the jelly from the jar. It was only enough to coat one half of one biscuit. “And why is that?”

“Natalie told me you weren’t feeling good last night and that you were going up to bed. She thought you would probably need some extra sleep today.”

“Oh she did, did she?” He somehow managed to keep his tone neutral. He wasn’t sure whether he should yell or laugh.

He cut his eyes in her direction. Her face had turned a shade of pink not much different than the roses on the sofa in the parlor.

“Isn’t that what you said last night?” Natalie’s voice had lost its usual confidence.

“I don’t recall anything of that nature.” Let her squirm on that.

“Oh dear,” Aunt Bitty said. “You need some more jelly. Aubie, would you run down to the cellar and get him some more jelly?”

“Uh-huh.” Aubie had done nothing but stare at his lap since Newland had sat down. The boy’s lap couldn’t be that interesting so it had to be whatever was on his cell phone that was commanding his attention.

“I’ll go down.” Newland pushed himself back from the table, just as Natalie did the same.

“I’ll help,” she said.

Newland launched one eyebrow to his hairline and eyed her, testing her motive.

“I hardly think it appropriate for a guest to run to someone’s cellar and start digging around for jelly.”

“But you’ll get your dress all dirty,” Bitty protested.

Natalie looked down at herself and Newland found himself doing the same. She looked particularly beautiful today. But he’d noticed that already about her. She dressed to the nines every day—perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect jewelry. Today’s ensemble was a coral dress that hugged her figure perfectly. Imagine that. It molded to each curve and dip, showing off every aspect of her assets. It ended just below her knees, revealing shapely calves made even more so by the black and white printed pumps she wore. He had been out with enough women to know that shoes like that cost a pretty penny. It seemed there was no end to the Coleman funds.

“You can’t go down like that.” He’d almost managed to get those words out in a normal tone, but his voice cracked a little on the end. And it had nothing to do with his perusal of Natalie Coleman. Though she did look damn fine today.

“I’ll show you the way.” She sashayed ahead of him.

Yeah, you will
.

He followed her out of the house and around the back side of the porch. Just around the corner was a set of double doors. They were big, bigger than he’d expected, almost the size of a regular door. They were slanted as if they had been stuck awkwardly into the ground. Once upon a time they had been painted blue, though rain had taken their toll. They were faded and had little rust spots, especially around the corners.

“There they are.” She pointed to the handles. “The shelves are on the right. That’s where you’ll find the jelly.”

“Where’s the moonshine?” Newland reached for the doors, chuckling all the while.

“Bring up two or three jars,” she said, ignoring him. “That way we don’t have to come down again in a day or two.”

Newland stopped. “How much jelly do you guys eat?”

She shot him that dazzling smile. “Quite a bit. This is the South after all.”

Newland shook his head and started down into the dark cellar. Bitty was right, the steps were narrow. He couldn’t imagine her trying to navigate them. He had trouble, even with the rustic handrail nailed to the wall. He had almost reached the bottom when Natalie called from above.