Taking her hand, he led her through his dining room and kitchen to the back porch. Opening the door, he moved aside to let her step out before him. “All this land is yours?” she asked, looking around.

“Yes, all five acres.” He handed her a pair of binoculars that he kept on his porch. “Use these to take a look past that huge cypress tree.”

“That huge tree that seems to be touching the sky?”

He grinned at her observation. “Cypress trees can grow up to one hundred and twenty feet tall. That one has probably reached its full height, and I figure it’s about a hundred years old. If you look past its six-foot-wide trunk, you can see the bayou.”

He watched her adjust the binoculars to her eyes. “Yes, I can see it,” she said. She lowered the binoculars and handed them back to him. “Thanks for sharing that with me, Saint. Now that you’re back, do you think you’ll ever move away from the bayou again?”

“Yes, but no time soon.” He decided to tell her something that only a few people knew. He hadn’t even told his parents. “I’ve purchased some oceanfront property in Reid’s new housing development.”

Her eyes showed her surprise. “You have?”

“Yes, but I don’t plan to build anytime soon. For now, I’m satisfied with living here.”

“Purchasing that property in Reid’s development was certainly a good investment,” she said.

“Just like buying that vacant building in town would be for you.”

When she didn’t say anything, he said, “Thanks for the painting. You know what I plan to call it?”

“No. What do you plan to call it?”

“Imagine.”

“So, what are you feeding me today, Saint?”

It hadn’t gone past him that she’d deliberately changed the subject. He had no problem letting her. In a way, he shouldn’t have said anything. She’d made up her mind about that building, and he should respect her decision and let it go. He wondered why he was finding it hard to do so.

“For starters, grilled trout, red beans and rice, and bayou bread. I even cooked those crab cakes I told you about. And for dessert, I’ve prepared bayou beignets.”

“What’s the difference between a bayou beignet and a New Orleans beignet?”

A huge smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll let you answer that question for yourself.”

“Thanks for inviting me to dinner, Margie.” Levi hoped it wouldn’t go unnoticed that although the invitation had been from both her and Mr. Chelsey, he was thanking her personally.

Her father was taking his after-dinner nap and Levi had talked Margie into walking in the shipping district along the boardwalk. At first, she seemed hesitant but then she changed her mind and agreed.

“You’re welcome, Levi. I’m glad you came.”

“No reason for me not to. I figured you were a good cook, and I was looking forward to your company.”

She looked over at him. “That was kind of you to say.”

“I meant it. That’s something you’ll get to know about me. I mean what I say.”

She nodded. “We’ve walked for a while. Shouldn’t we go back now? I’d think your leg would be bothering you.”

Before he could say anything, she quickly added, “Dad told me about your injury.”

Levi figured as much, but then knowing Mr. Chelsey, he wouldn’t have told her if she hadn’t asked. Her doing so didn’t bother him any, not when he was lucky to be alive. He could have died that night.

“Naw, it doesn’t bother me now. Walking on it is good. When I sit still and it gets stiff, that’s when it bothers me.”

“Oh.”

He wanted to spend this time with her, and definitely wanted to get to know her better. He should find that odd because since Lydia’s death he hadn’t been interested in any other woman. But he was attracted to Margie, that was for certain.