Instructions for Love Read online

  “No thanks.”

  “I wasn’t inviting you.”

  Struck by the insult, she turned away. She peered out at the dark, seeing only tall and short rows of what must be vegetables. “I figured it wasn’t an invitation,” she said, her back to him. “I was only making a statement.”

  He didn’t comment. Quiet crept into the truck cab, along with the warm humid air. Crickets or bullfrogs or other creatures made noises outside.

  She could hear Dane shift in his seat before he spoke. “I didn’t mean to be rude.” He breathed barely audible breaths. “You know down here, we are known for our hospitality.”

  The man certainly hadn’t proved himself to be hospitable. Right when she’d begun to consider this place’s overseer as a southern gentleman, he had yanked that concept out from under her.

  He directed the spotlight to the crops. “Go on out. You can see the plants up close.”

  “That’s all right,” she said, but he didn’t seem to hear. His door slammed and he showed up outside hers. Erin remained seated, not looking at him, not moving.

  The door beside her swung out. “See, I can still open a lady’s door.”

  She hesitated a moment before accepting the hand he offered. Holding it, she stepped down. He let go of her hand, and she peered across shadowy plants. She wouldn’t have thought this section of land was also part of the plantation. He had driven out onto the highway to reach it and then turned down on the next road.

  Her leg burned. She slapped at what was probably a mosquito. “Never mind. I can’t tell what’s out here.” She started to climb into the cab.

  He touched her elbow. “Tilly asked you to view the plantation. This is one of the places you didn’t see.”

  She backed her foot to the ground. Dane turned toward the garden, the light on his head swinging and then holding on two long rows of mid-sized staked plants tied with thin strips of cloth.

  From the leaves, Erin recognized them. “These tomatoes are huge. And so many of them.” She walked beside the plants, bending to see if she could spy one ready to pick, disappointed to find only green ones. “What else is here?” She looked at him until the light on his head shifted to the next rows. Erin walked to them.

  “Eggplants.” His voice came out from his spot in the dark.

  “I love eggplants.” She bent to the low plants, laughing when she saw two large ones almost ready for picking.

  “Cucumbers. And okra.” Dane’s light bumped along vines on the ground and then swung up to the tallest plants. “We’ve been picking a lot of those.” Pride carried in his tone.

  “Do you get to eat these vegetables fresh all year? I couldn’t imagine getting that pleasure.”

  “This summer garden won’t produce too much longer. Soon we’ll be setting out the winter crops.” His voice had come from closer. His outline, dark and muscular, stood near her.

  Erin’s breaths came out heavy. But she didn’t want him. She lived someplace else. And this man lived with sadness from some inner haunting.

  “Oh, are these miniature bananas?” she asked, making herself walk away, forcing her eyes to find something to look at besides him. Spying short plants with slim crops dangling, she stooped near them.

  “Don’t touch that!”

  Erin pulled back her hand. She frowned at Dane but saw only his spotlight. “I was just going to feel them,” she said.

  The light tumbled down as he pulled off the headgear. He walked closer, his light rimming the dirt. “That’s hot peppers. If you break one and the juice gets on your hand, you could touch your eye without thinking. And then you’d have one heck of a sting that’s hard to get rid of.”

  Erin’s breathing calmed from his initial stern warning. Her eyes adjusted to the dark. They noticed him standing near. He looked at her while she peered up at him.

  His light swung out with his arm’s move. “Here, you can see where you’re going.”

  She followed the dirt path between the plants, feeling like she’d just started to breathe again. As soon as she reached the truck, the light switched off. She glanced back at him.

  “You haven’t been walking so fast today.” He stopped and watched her open her door.

  “Why should I move fast? There aren’t many places to go here.”

  “Really? Look out there.” He lit the spotlight, sweeping it across the area behind them. A vast stretch held blades of plants close to the ground. Beyond it grew taller sugar cane that they hadn’t gone through and way behind that, countless trees grew in clusters.

  “I had no idea the plantation encompassed so much property.”

  A click sounded when Dane turned off his light.

  “There’s one other thing I’d like to see if you have the time,” she said.

  “What is it?”

  “Your town’s hub. T-Fred’s Diner.”

  His laugh of surprise rang through the dark.

  Both their moods seemed lighter once they resumed their places in his truck. He revved up the air conditioner and took to the highway. “Actually, I didn’t tell you the truth. Our town doesn’t really have a hub. Instead, we only have a few spokes.”

  Erin smiled. They rode past small and huge houses scattered on large lots on one side of the road, trees rimming the thin strip on land of the opposite side along a narrow sluggish bayou. Her cheer lasted as he steered into what might’ve been considered a town. A wooden sign welcomed people to Rainbow Bayou.

  “There’s our stoplight,” Dane said.

  The light was red, and Erin stared at it. “That’s your only one?”

  His smile flashed briefly. “Maybe we can find a couple of others.”

  She grinned at him. “Let’s try.”

  He drove past small areas flecked with businesses, calling each of them a spoke. Grocery marts and repair shops, a couple of restaurants and other closed shops lined the road with signs naming it Main Street. Abruptly, Dane stopped. “Oop, we found another one.” He made a wry grin at the red light shining ahead of them.

  “I wish you’d gone back to the house to let me change clothes,” Erin said.

  He glanced at her shorts. “You’re dressed perfect for T-Fred’s.”

  Still not certain, she peered at dark buildings and the few vehicles on both sides of the road and the main street past the light. “This is such a sleepy little place. There isn’t much life.”

  He didn’t respond with a clever quip she’d just enjoyed trading with him. Dane’s expression turned grim, the corners of his lips curved down.

  “I wasn’t trying to be mean,” she said. “We were teasing each other.” Leaning across the seat, she touched his tense shoulder.

  He glanced at her hand, his gaze angling up to her face. He released a heavy sigh. “You were right. There is no life here.”

  She slipped her hand away. The dullness of his eyes gave her the impression that instead of his last statement being about the place, he could’ve been talking about himself.

  They rode in silence past a small school that huddled beneath trees and yellow school buses parked in a semi-circle. They drove by a surprisingly large Catholic church and a small Baptist one. Houses of varying sizes intermingled, with lights inside, their families probably sitting down to dinner, talking with excitement about getting the children ready to start classes.

  Erin heard another sigh. Dane glanced at her, making her realize she had made the sound.

  “This is it.” He pulled off the road. “T-Fred’s.”

  About a dozen trucks, cars, and SUVs sat on gravel at the side of the building coated with orange vinyl siding. Lighted window signs advertised liquor. A faded sign above a screen door said T-Fred’s Diner and Grill.

  “I’m surprised that so many people are out,” Erin said while they left Dane’s truck and ambled to the door.

  He responded with a smirk. “I’ll bet the smallest place in your city doesn’t get this few people any night.” Reaching the door, he grabbed the handle.

 
“You’re right. But this is your town, and this is Wednesday.”

  “People here work hard on their farms and their boats. They have to let loose sometimes.”

  Her face whipped toward him.

  Dane grinned. “Ladies first.” He held the door open.

  When Erin walked inside in front of him, Dane watched the faces of patrons. They glanced up from food or drinks, smiles of admiration coming from the men. The women stared, probably comparing themselves with his attractive stranger.

  All their talking and laughter continued—until they saw him coming in behind her. Then voices stopped in mid-sentence, many eyes indicating him—and Erin.

  She glanced back at him. “Do we wait to be seated?”

  “Not hardly. That table near the wall will be good.”

  “Hey, Dane,” most of the people sitting around told him when he followed her past their tables. He called them by name with a brief hello, looking away from the glints in their eyes. Heat built inside him while he held Erin’s chair out for her, and after she sat, pushed it in. He took a chair with his back to all of the others.

  Darn. He liked these people, had known them forever. So what had he been thinking when he offered to take Erin here? Some of these folks knew he had dated a little since Anna died, but he had never escorted another woman to a place in their town. New Orleans was close enough but not so close or small that everyone would know his business. And this was business. He was only taking care of Tilly’s last request for her niece.

  He wanted to announce that to all his friends, or former friends, it seemed ever since Anna vanished and he’d grown apart from everyone. But these people had their own lives to lead. He had his.

  He was about to remind Erin that their little social here was only part of what Tilly wanted. But then Erin stopped her perusal of the place and gave him a smile that made him keep those words inside.

  “What a wonderful place.” Her hands gave a small clap of delight.

  Dane glanced over his shoulder to see what he’d missed. The same dark cypress interior with gator heads mounted near framed Cajun jokes, same red checkered cloths with crayfish salt and pepper shakers, and the same locals sitting at their regular places. The only thing unusual was the pair of men, probably truckers, on stools at the bar.

  “Hey, Dane,” T-Fred said, coming up beside him.

  He had to make introductions. “Erin, T-Fred. T-Fred, this is Erin.”

  Erin grinned, grabbing the thick hand the bar’s owner offered, and said, “But you’re a woman.”

  T-Fred gave her mop of orange hair a toss to the side of her chubby face. “Yep, that’s what they tell me.”

  “But your name…” Erin’s nose made a cute scrunch.

  “My dad was Fred. His first kid was gonna be named after him, no matter what. And I don’t think you’re from around here, but lots of people get the T stuck in front to make a nickname, the T meaning little.” She shifted her weight to the opposite side, planting her hands on her ample hips, and grinned.

  Erin smiled with her. “That’s adorable,” she said.

  “Sure, and so are you.” T-Fred gave Erin’s hair a playful ruffle. “So what’ll you have?” she asked without a pad to write on or offering menus.

  “We aren’t eating now,” Erin said, glancing at Dane for affirmation.

  “Just give us two beers,” he told T-Fred. Clasping Erin’s hand to get her attention, he said, “Or do you drink beer? I doubt if this bar’s got any of those fancy drinks y’all have in the big city.”

  “A light beer would be great.”

  “You got it.” T-Fred winked at Erin and lumbered off. Her glance over her shoulder at Dane’s fingers holding Erin’s made him pull his hand away.

  Dane’s face heated. Even the coldest beer wouldn’t be able to ease the annoyance building inside him. Everyone in town would be thinking he’d paired up with a girlfriend.

  “These people are so friendly,” Erin said. She smiled, waving at people behind him who must be waving at her. They would do so along with knowing grins.

  A growl deep in his throat was the only response he could give.

  “There you go, one light and one not,” T-Fred said, setting two cold ones in front of them. At least when she went off this time, she didn’t peer back and smirk.

  “To your lovely town,” Erin said, lifting her bottle.

  Dane picked up his beer. She clicked hers against it and looked pretty when she took a swallow and then smiled at him. In fact, he couldn’t think of a time when she didn’t look pretty.

  But it was probably the beer making him think that. It tasted icy cold and smooth with his first swallows. Sometimes the world looked nicer once you’d had a few cold ones.

  “Do you drink often?” Erin asked, fingering the crayfish salt shaker.

  “No, `cause then I might not want to stop.” Anything that blocked out the cruel nights had appealed to him. He’d tried to escape all those empty evenings, but instead of throwing them away to liquor, he too often lain awake, wishing.

  Erin made weak smiles in-between her sips, sometimes glancing at him, then looking away. “That was nice,” she said, setting down the empty bottle.

  “You want another one?” He emptied his own brew.

  “No thanks.” She glanced at people at other tables.

  “How about something to eat?” T-Fred showed up near Dane’s chair. “Little lady, can I get you a bite?”

  “Mm, everything smells wonderful, and people’s meals look scrumptious.” She nodded in the direction of other tables. “But no thanks.”

  “Order something,” Dane said. “T-Fred’s a great cook.”

  “But we’re supposed to eat the jambalaya,” Erin told him.

  He tapped his head. “I forgot to defrost it, and I’m hungry. Come on, let’s get some of T-Fred’s cooking.”

  “Here’s our menu.” With nothing in her hands, T-Fred told Erin, “We got red beans and sausage.”

  She appeared ready to say more, but Erin lifted her eyebrows. “That sounds great.”

  T-Fred shook her head. “But we only fix that on Mondays. Now if you come back on a Friday, we’ll serve the best fried catfish with white beans.”

  Erin grinned. Dane found he couldn’t stop himself from also smiling.

  “But since this is Wednesday?” Erin said to T-Fred.

  “How about a shrimp po-boy? They’re great.”

  Erin nodded, and T-Fred raised an orange eyebrow at Dane.

  “Same here,” he said.

  “Dane wants two shrimp po-boys!” T-Fred shouted across the bar to the thin other cook.

  Dane glanced at patrons, many of them now openly grinning at him. Coming here with Erin had been a bad decision, the irritation in his belly reminded him. He scooted his chair back, putting more distance between his place and Erin’s.

  “Bye! Nice seeing y’all,” a woman called.

  Dane didn’t have to look to know it was Renee Boudreaux speaking to them. He glanced at her and her husband Ned, the middle-aged couple both wearing shorts, and nodded. Renee wore a grin, like she had learned something special here tonight that she’d tell everyone about tomorrow. And knowing her, she’d get started on that task tonight.

  Erin leaned across the table. “They are so sweet. Does everybody around know you?”

  He yanked up his beer bottle, disappointed to recall it was empty. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

  “I think it would be wonderful to know the people you live near and find friends when you go out. The only person I usually know when I’m eating out or at a theater is the person I’m with.”

  “I guess that’s ordinarily Trevor,” he said, annoyed. Her speech had gotten quicker, until she mentioned her boyfriend. Then her vision seemed to go inward as though her mind was trying to solve a problem.

  She appealed to Dane. But he didn’t need to get involved in difficulties with her or her boyfriend. His fields were enough to worry about. He’d keep directing his problem
-solving ability toward his crops.

  “Of course I don’t go to a theater often,” she said. “Can’t afford it.”

  “A theater,” Dane said. “We have one. It shows a whole lot of good movies.”

  He had accomplished what he’d hoped. Erin laughed. “We have movie theaters in New York, too,” she said, “and we also have live stage plays.”

  “The next town over puts on stuff like that,” he said, not needing to tell her he’d been to Broadway and enjoyed quite a few plays there. This woman was an intrusion into his life, nothing more, he reminded himself. She didn’t need to know everything about him.

  “Something smells terrific.” Immediately after Erin spoke, T-Fred set long plates down in front of them. She gave Erin a wink and sauntered off to other tables.

  “A po-boy,” Erin said, taking the top piece of French bread off and inspecting her jumbo fried shrimp, lettuce, tomatoes mayo, and pickles. She raised an eyebrow at Dane. “And the source of its name?”

  “Some poor boy got hold of a loaf of French bread and tossed in anything he could find.”

  A flash of humor crossed Erin’s face. “You don’t know, do you?”

  He grinned. “Uh-uh. But I do know they’re all real good. People fix them with roast beef or fried seafood or whatever.”

  She squeezed her sandwich together and took a bite. “I’ll add this to the things I love to eat,” she said after she swallowed. “The bread’s crunchy, and these big shrimp are to die for.”

  Dane joined her in eating and had to agree. He always ate plenty of meals that tasted great, but a po-boy was his favorite sandwich.

  Before they finished their last bites, T-Fred hollered from behind the bar. “Hey Dane, Erin, y’all want some dessert? We got bread pudding tonight.”

  He looked at Erin.

  “No thanks,” she called back to T-Fred. She grabbed Dane’s arm, and warmth from her touch skidded up his arm and heightened his senses. “Mom Bea said she made some for us to eat tonight.”

  “She makes a terrific one.” He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shift his hand out from under hers.