Yours Forever Page 5

  “Oh, I have no doubt,” Tamryn said. “There are likely hundreds of secret hideaways that were used as part of the Underground Railroad that haven’t been discovered throughout the South. It’s always exciting when one is, which is why being here in Gauthier—”

  The waiter returned to their table. “I’m sorry to interrupt again, but will you be enjoying dessert this afternoon? We have white-chocolate bread pudding and buttermilk pie.”

  “That sounds so good,” Tamryn said. “But I can’t.”

  “Oh, come on,” Matt urged. “Dessert isn’t just for special occasions around here. It’s a part of every meal.”

  “Even breakfast?” she asked with a teasing smile.

  “Damn right. Just wait until you have some beignets and café au lait.”

  She groaned. “If I’m not careful I will have to buy an entirely new, bigger wardrobe before the start of fall semester.”

  “You have nothing to worry about,” Matt said. He looked up at the waiter. “Paul, can you box up a serving of bread pudding for me to take back to Carmen?”

  “No problem, Matt. Oh, and I’m going to email you some artwork for the 5K T-shirts later tonight.”

  “Good. I need to get that to Mike’s Printing over in Maplesville. He said the sooner we have the artwork, the sooner he can start making the T-shirts and yard signs.”

  When Paul left the table, Matt turned his attention back to Tamryn. “Sorry about that.”

  “A 5K?” she asked.

  Matt nodded, taking another sip of tea. “I—well, the Gauthier Law Firm—sponsors a yearly 5K to benefit the Gauthier Boys and Girls Summer Camp. It’s turned into a pretty big event, much bigger than we ever expected it to become.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  “Carmen and I. She’s the one who puts it together.”

  “But you foot the bill?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not much.”

  Tamryn folded her arms on the table and, with her head cocked to the side, studied him. He wasn’t a fan of scrutiny, even when it involved a beautiful woman.

  “What?” Matt asked.

  “It wasn’t just the talk of obviously smitten women at the beauty parlor. You really are a saint.”

  “Smitten? Do people really use that word?”

  “There is no other way to describe them. All I had to do was bring up your name and off they went, talking about the food drive you sponsor for the elderly at Thanksgiving, and the Easter egg hunt for the children at the elementary school. And did I hear something about a new tutor and mentorship program you’ve proposed for Gauthier High?”

  He nodded.

  “I can only assume that underneath that suit you’re hiding a giant S on your chest.”

  Matt couldn’t help the eye roll this time.

  If she only knew. If any of them knew. He was far from a saint, or Superman, or any other hero this town deserved. He had his mother to thank for instilling in him a strong sense of compassion for his fellow man at an early age, but benevolence had very little to do with any of the things he did. Much of what he did for the people of Gauthier had to do with assuaging his own guilt.

  “It’s not as if I do any of it alone,” he said. “It’s a community effort. This is a small town. We take care of our own.”

  “I find that utterly charming,” she said. “Everything about this town is charming. I’ll have to sign up for the 5K you’re sponsoring.”

  “You’re a runner?” That explained the killer legs.

  “I wouldn’t consider myself a runner,” she said with a laugh. “A moderately competent jogger is probably a better label. It’s a great way to clear the mind. It also allows me to indulge in food I shouldn’t eat.”

  “We’ll have to go running sometime,” Matt said.

  “You run?”

  “I do now.”

  That instant crimson stained her cheeks again, and the effect it had on him was downright frightening.

  She was the last woman he wanted to affect him in any way whatsoever. She posed a direct threat to his future plans. If she succeeded in her mission of uncovering his family’s past, he could kiss that state-senate seat goodbye.

  Yet affect him she did. He was stunned and just a bit disturbed at the potency of his feelings. He’d been completely enraptured from the moment he’d spotted her walking along that dirt road.

  Matt had already decided to keep an eye on her during her stay in Gauthier, but as he peered at her across the table, he acknowledged that keeping an eye on her wouldn’t be the hardship he’d initially anticipated. In fact, he had the appealing suspicion that he would enjoy every minute of it.

  * * *

  As her pen traveled swiftly across the small memo pad she’d found in the bottom of her purse, Tamryn cursed herself for forgetting to bring her iPad. Of course, when she’d left the B and B this morning, she had not anticipated finally getting the chance to interview Matthew Gauthier one-on-one. During the course of an hour-long lunch, she’d managed to get more information out of him than from dozens of emails and phone calls over the past six months.

  “What kind of special privileges come with being a member of the town’s founding family?” she asked him.

  “What makes you think I have special privileges just because I’m a Gauthier?”

  “Well, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe being a Gauthier comes with lofty obligations. So, which is it? Do people expect more of you because of your family lineage? Is that why you’re so involved with the community, because you have no other choice?”

  He trained those hazel-green eyes on her and an easy smile drew up the corners of his mouth.

  “Don’t you think we’ve talked enough about me for today? Why don’t you answer a few questions?”

  “Because I’m the interviewer, not the interviewee.”

  “I’m turning the tables on you.”

  Tamryn set her pen on top of the memo pad and settled back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “And just what could you possibly want to know about me?”

  “Oh, there is so much I’d like to know about you, Professor West.”

  Seductive tremors traveled up and down her spine at the alluring lilt to his voice. That penetrating stare that seemed to look right through her only added to the trembles.

  “However,” he said, “you can start by telling me how you became interested in this subject.”

  The waiter came to their table and offered them coffee. Tamryn was grateful for the interruption. She needed the few moments to clear her head.

  She also decided that, after occupying their table for so long, it was only fair to Emile’s Restaurant that she order dessert to go. It was the easiest decision she’d made in at least a decade.

  “So?” Matt asked as he added a teaspoon of sugar to his coffee. “What sparked your interest in this subject? Is it for one of the classes you’re teaching or just because you’re a history buff?”

  She nodded as she sipped her coffee. “I’ll definitely incorporate my findings into my classes,” she said. “However, my interest in Gauthier is related to another project, something much more personal.”

  One brow hitched in inquiry. “Too personal to share?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not anymore. A number of people know about the book I’m writing.”

  His eyes widened. “You’re an author, too?”

  “Nonfiction,” she clarified. “Much of the research I’m conducting in Gauthier will go into a book I’m writing about my great-great-great-grandmother, Adeline West. Several years ago, my father’s side of the family had a reunion in Oxford, Mississippi, where he grew up. While we were there, I stumbled upon several documents in my grandfather’s home office—he was a history professor, too.”

&
nbsp; “Runs in the family,” Matt commented.

  “It’s not on the scale of the Gauthiers’ attorney lineage. My grandfather and I are the only professors. Anyway, many of the documents I found appeared to be written in code, but as I delved deeper into her past, I discovered that Adeline was not the typical former slave turned housewife. She was also a schoolteacher.”

  “So it does run in the family.”

  Tamryn smiled. “I guess you’re right. But Adeline West was much more than just a schoolteacher. I believe my great-great-great-grandmother, with the help of your ancestor Nicolette Gauthier opened the first school for black children in the United States.”

  Matt didn’t have the kind of reaction Tamryn was hoping for. His eyes were expressionless, his countenance completely neutral.

  The tiny part of her that had hoped he would confirm her suspicions the minute she mentioned Nicolette died a swift death.

  “From your lack of response, I assume there were no stories of sweet aunt Nicolette’s school for slave children told around the Thanksgiving table back at the Gauthier house.”

  He shook his head. “Sorry.” After a moment he cleared his throat and continued, “The only thing I’ve heard about Nicolette Gauthier is that she was a bit of a society woman. Loved to throw parties.”

  “Oh, there was much more to her than that. Granted, so far I haven’t been able to find much written about her past, but from what little I have uncovered, it’s more than obvious that she was an activist. The fact that she and Micah Gauthier hid runaway slaves in their home gives you a glimpse into the kind of people they were.”

  He only shrugged a shoulder.

  Tamryn couldn’t squelch her disappointed sigh. “I was really hoping that you would be able to confirm some of the stories that were told in my family around the holidays. Some believe it’s just folklore, but the more I research, the more convinced I am that my great-great-great-grandmother changed the history of African-Americans in this country.”

  “And you think the town of Gauthier played a part?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “The letters NFG were written in the margins of some of the documents I’ve uncovered. I believe those letters stand for Nicolette Fortier Gauthier. I suspect she aided Adeline in starting the school. I just haven’t found the type of definitive proof that would pass muster when presenting my findings to a potential publisher. My grandfather believes that either Nicolette or Adeline kept a diary, but I haven’t found any proof of that. So far, everything I’ve discovered is anecdotal.”

  “Maybe it is,” he said. “Maybe it’s all just circumstantial. I’ve never once heard anything about a school for slave children, especially the first one ever in the entire country. That’s the type of stuff the Gauthier family would boast about.”

  Tamryn shook her head with a vehemence she couldn’t curb. “It’s there,” she said, slapping her palm flat on the table. “I know it is. I just have to find it.” She glanced at him, and heat climbed up her cheeks. “I’m sorry. As you can probably tell, I get a little passionate about this.”

  “Nothing wrong with showing a little passion for something you believe in,” he said. A glint of humor lit his eyes. “If you’re this enthusiastic when you teach, there must be a waiting list to get into your classes. I think if I’d had you for a professor I would have paid a lot more attention in freshman history.”

  Tamryn cursed the blush that she knew was coloring her cheeks. “You must be a very effective attorney, because you certainly talk a good game,” she remarked.

  “It comes in handy in more than just the courtroom,” Matt quipped.

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to prevent the grin that was threatening to unleash itself. So much for keeping this interview professional.

  The theme from the Rocky movies started playing from the vicinity of his chest.

  “Sorry,” he said, pulling his phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “That’s my campaign manager’s special ringtone.”

  Matt answered the phone and immediately frowned. He lifted the sleeve of his jacket and glanced at the silver watch. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I’m over at Emile’s. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He slid his finger across the phone’s touch screen and repocketed it. “My campaign manager is waiting for me back at the office. We were supposed to leave for Baton Rouge fifteen minutes ago. I’m officially filing my intent to run today.”

  “Congratulations,” Tamryn said. “You should have mentioned that it was such a big day for you.”

  He shrugged and signaled for the waiter. “Just a part of the process.”

  “Are you always this cool, calm and collected?”

  “Another trait of a good attorney. Never let them see you sweat.” He winked at her as he reached inside his jacket for his wallet, but Tamryn captured the leather folder from the waiter before he could sit it on the table. “What are you doing?” Matt asked.

  “Paying for lunch. I was the one who asked for the interview,” she said.

  “Professor West, you’re in the South.” He plucked the portfolio from her fingers, tucked a fifty-dollar bill inside and handed it to the waiter. “You do not pay for the meal. Ever.”

  Tamryn tipped her head to the side, as if thinking hard. “Exactly how am I not supposed to consider that sexist?”

  “I don’t care how you consider it,” he said. “As long as your money never touches this table. I do have a reputation as a proper Southern gentleman to uphold.”

  “Well, far be it from me to trigger the demise of your reputation. I shall just say thank-you for the lunch and for finally granting me an interview.”

  He came around to her side of the table and pulled her chair out. Against her ear, he whispered, “Much to my surprise, it was my pleasure. I don’t know why I resisted for so long.”

  His warm, coffee-scented breath set off a throng of flutters through her stomach.

  “You Southern gentlemen lay that charm on thicker than cream cheese,” Tamryn commented, rising from her seat and taking the container with her dessert.

  With a chuckle, he said, “We pride ourselves on it.”

  He cupped her elbow and led her out of the restaurant, helping her down the steps of the expansive porch that spanned the front of Emile’s and the two establishments on either side of it.

  Once they reached the brick sidewalk, Matt released her arm and said, “Good luck with your research, Professor. I’m sure I’ll see you around town.”

  “Actually, you’ll see me at your office. Dr. Lawrence invited me to join him and his students when they return in a couple of weeks.”

  Another of those lazy smiles drew across his face. “Gauthier is a small town. I’m sure I won’t have to suffer through a couple of weeks without seeing you.”

  Tamryn slowly shook her head as she stared up at him. “Thicker than cream cheese,” she said again.

  His eyes glittered with amusement, his dimple winking at her as he turned and headed back toward his office building.

  “You’d better watch yourself around that one,” Tamryn murmured. After the beating her ego had taken courtesy of her ex-boyfriend, Reid, she was ripe for being swept off her feet by a handsome charmer with even an ounce of appeal.

  “And Lord knows he’s got appeal,” Tamryn said.

  She headed for the car Phylicia Phillips had graciously loaned her after the rental company had been unable to deliver her another car this morning. The trusting nature of the people in this town went beyond anything Tamryn had ever experienced.

  Hours later, as afternoon melted into evening, Tamryn lounged back in the wooden Adirondack chair on her room’s private balcony. She’d delayed her arrival at Belle Maison by three days for the opportunity to get this room, and after only a couple of warm, relaxing hours out here, she’d concluded th
at it had been well worth it.

  She sipped from the glass of freshly brewed ginger-peach iced tea Phylicia had insisted she try, then continued to browse through the academic journal on her electronic tablet. But there was nothing in the Journal of Women, Politics and Policy that could hold her attention, not when her mind was hell-bent on wandering to her lunch with Gauthier’s sexiest attorney-at-law.

  Just the barest glimpse of that dimple triggered a wave of disturbingly improper thoughts. She had so not prepared herself for the likes of Matthew Gauthier. In fact, she had been prepared for the complete opposite of what he had turned out to be. Instead of battling the mulish hard-ass she’d encountered over her many emails and phone calls, she found herself fighting an even bigger internal battle not to fall for the magnetic charm that had obviously captivated every other woman in Gauthier.

  “Be smart,” Tamryn warned herself in a quiet whisper.

  She’d allowed stomach flutters and skin tingles to obliterate her good sense before. Her normal intelligence had the unfortunate habit of fleeing when faced with a handsome man who laid on the heavy charm. She was still tending to the scars left behind by the betrayal of the last man she’d had the misfortune of falling for, and Matthew Gauthier was ten times more handsome and charming than Reid Hayes.

  She was just grateful she had several months before she would have to sit across from her ex in a faculty meeting.

  Speaking of...

  Tamryn switched to the email app on her iPad and brought up her university email. She’d emailed draft copies of the syllabi for the two classes she planned to teach next semester to the head of the History Department, Dr. Sanderson. She’d debated back and forth over whether or not to add her Impact of Civil Rights on the Women’s Liberation Movement course to this fall’s classes, but Reid’s repeated insistence that professors on the tenure track should spend less time in the classroom and more time conducting research had stuck with her.