For Elise (A Romance About the Deepest and Truest Love)

By Catharina Shields

Louisiana, 2006...

Just a year out of prison on a work-release program after serving twenty years hard time for killing a man, Reece T. Dubois, now thirty-nine, wanted nothing more than to keep his nose clean and to live in peace. Then he meets the beautiful and sensuous Elise Beauchamp, the young wife of a friendly pastor nearly twice her age, and all bets are off. He struggles between allowing himself to surrender to his desires or to keep his distance, yet slowly but surely he discovers why the pastor had invited him to meet his beautiful wife at their home, and just one look at her sweeps him away in a torrent of passion, pain, betrayal, and for him, the unchartered waters of unrequited but true love.

Elise Beauchamp, thirty-four, always considered herself to be levelheaded and loyal. Although she’s a classic raven-haired beauty, she never considered herself one. She staunchly believes in the sanctity of marriage and was never tempted by another man. Then one evening her husband brings a Work Release Inmate home for dinner...

Leo Beauchamp is the beloved pastor of the Lost Sheep of the Lord Assembly in Caddo Parish who offers his services to the Caddo Parish Work Release House. There he meets Reece and finds the answer that would end his secret suffering and what would finally set him on the path of redemption...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Catharina Shields
• Release date: Jun 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301445394

Catharina Shields

{PLEASE SCROLL DOWN FOR THE LIST OF MY AVAILABLE E-BOOKS} I've always enjoyed storytelling, ever since I was a child. My love for storytelling has evolved from hand-drawn comic strips, to creating hand-puppets - "Meemies and Fluffies" - for my younger brother and sisters' morning puppet show, to writing stories in longhand in spirals armed with only a Penmate pen while battling a stiff hand and dreaming of a day when I'd finally own a typewriter. Today, in my peaceful Southern California home near the mountains, I can't go a day without my computer and I now enjoy storytelling via my e-books, specializing in mystery, drama, Young Adult and paranormal romance. If you've read one of my books and like them, please leave a review, good or bad, and add me as a favorite author {a single click on a button to your left is all it takes}. Remember . . . reviews are tips for Authors.

Book preview

Prologue

New Orleans: Mardi Gras Festivities,

February 1985...

On that fateful night, everyone had been geared up for the annual Mardi Gras festivities. The streets were decorated as festively morbid as possible, including the tiniest shops and out-of-the-way cafes. The night air sizzled with excitement and boisterous laughter.

People, young and old, dressed up in a myriad of frightening costumes to stand out in the colorful crowds that were filling the streets to overflow. Tourists were treated to the festivities of this uniquely New Orleans celebration that had its roots in France, and everyone was swept up in it all.

On one street, though, where the homes were mostly unkempt and old, the celebrations went largely unnoticed. Shades were pulled down and the lights were off, and except for the bedroom, all was quiet and still.

There, in the dimly lit bedroom furnished with dated furniture and lampshades covered with pink scarves, the sound of a creaking bed was only outdone by the sexual moans and groans by two aggressively passionate lovers. They were in a world of their own; lustful and unbridled, going at it hard like a pair of rabbits, and they were so busy that they were completely unaware that they had gained an enraged audience of one.

He had gone out with his friends and a few girls to the French Quarter to celebrate Mardi Gras and he was sure he was finally going to have a good time. He was in high spirits after his talk with his mother because for once in his young life, he could finally see the silver lining.

But it wasn’t meant to be.

His soaring spirits had crashed and burned when one of his friends had told him something that broke his young heart and unleashed his rage. The news had ruined everything for him. Everything. But in his youth, he couldn’t know that that everything included his young life because on that fateful night and in his rage, he had chosen to make a very bad decision that would change his life forever.

Had he known it, he would have never left his friends to go back to the decrepit house he called home for as long as he could remember. Had he known how that choice would affect his future, he would have chosen to turn his back and he would have tried to forget everything in the arms of willing girls and plenty of spirits that would chase the pain inside him away . . .

But he didn’t. And he would pay the price tenfold.

He couldn’t recall just exactly how he got there, but there he now stood; in the doorway, staring at the sweaty couple, humping, grunting, going at it mindlessly in the creaking old bed, and what hurt him more than anything had been able to hurt him, was the fact that she loved it. He could hear how she loved that man driving into her body, hearing her raspy pleas for more, more, and more.

His heart shattered in his young chest. His handsome face wrung in torment as he watched pale slender limbs wrap greedily around an obese and smelly man’s hairy ass. Something died inside him that night. And someone would die that night, too.

It was true. All of it was true. A wretched sob broke free from his trembling lips. The moment it had, the giggling and lusty grunts stopped and the two naked people in the bed finally realized they weren’t alone with each other anymore. They snapped their heads around and stared in horror at the tall eighteen year old in the doorway as he slowly raised his shaking hand, stretching out his arm their way.

Oh my god! the woman cried with a sharp gasp as her round eyes riveted to the clenched fist of the young man. Gripped tightly within was an old, black coated handgun.

You just won’t leave us the fuck alone! he snarled through his tears. But I’ll make sure you never touch her again.

SHIT! the man shouted, and rolled off of the woman with frizzy blonde hair.

Roy, no! Don’t be stupid! the woman cried, putting out a hand.

But he didn’t see it. Tears of rage blinded him, streaming down his young handsome face as he sobbed. He could barely breathe and caught his breath; feeling as if his lungs were ripped out of his chest as his world came crashing down around him.

"You promised me you’d stop!"

Roy! DON’T!

I’m doing this for you, Mama. I’m doing this for us, he sobbed softly before his handsome face twisted into a cold, vicious mask. Then his finger moved as it squeezed the trigger . . .

**~~**

May 2005

Gate Six!

He jolted awake by the shout that tore through his dream. Dream? It was more of a nightmare! But compared to the life he had to lead in prison those twenty plus years, it could be considered a dream . . . a haunting dream of regret, remorse, and endless pain.

He lifted his blond head and peered through suspiciously shimmering eyes at the guard standing outside his cell. The brawny guard turned his head and looked back as he arched an impatient eyebrow. The gate squeaked as it opened, ending with a loud, metallic clang as it came to a stop.

Come on, Dubois! It’s your lucky day! the guard called.

Reece T. Dubois raised his orange-clad body up on hard ab muscles and sat up in his flat cot. His blond hair was long but clean, reaching just below his broad shoulders. His boyish good looks were gone, but he had become a strikingly handsome man only now his face bore two permanent scars; one down across his right eye and the other along his left cheek. They were souvenirs left over from the many brawls he was forced to participate in just to survive prison life.

Hurry it up, Dubois! We ain’t got all fucking day! the burly guard snapped impatiently. Then the man’s face twisted into a sarcastic grin as he held up the cuffs and rattled them meaningfully. You know the drill.

Reece merely nodded as he rose to his feet and shuffled over to the opened gate of his cell. Then he held out his wrists while he stared down at the shining metal cuffs that were being snapped around his wide wrists.

The guard raised his cold blue eyes and scanned the handsome face of one of the prison’s most well-behaved prisoner, trying to gauge his mood. It was always difficult to pinpoint since Reece T. Dubois was pretty good at hiding his thoughts from everyone. But one thing was certain, that wasn’t happy he saw on Dubois’ scarred and handsome face.

What’s up, Dubois? You should be happy as a hooker in boot camp that this day has finally come. This is your chance to pay your way back into society.

Dubois didn’t hear him. He was too busy trying to keep a cool head. He didn’t know what to make of it, feeling a strange mix of elation and fear filling him at that moment. He was uncertain about this day . . . the day of reckoning. He was about to step into unknown territory because he was on the verge of leaving a place he had called his home for the past twenty years to face a world he knew nothing about . . . and he was afraid he wouldn’t make it . . .

Chapter One

April 2006, Caddo Parish Work Release House,

Shreveport, Louisiana...

For nearly a year, Reece had worked menial jobs around the Parish and in neighboring towns as part of the penitentiary’s work release program. There was plenty of work for people who couldn’t ask for much, and many more for men built like Reece. Standing at six feet four and built like a brick house, Reece was born for hard labor, and cheap and loyal labor was always welcome in those rural parts of the state.

He was on the program with four other ex-convicts, but that’s all he had in common with them. He made no attempt to make friends. He had always kept to himself and he didn’t intend to break with that habit now he was on the outside. Sort of.

He was a model work-release inmate with zero aggressive tendencies despite the crime that had landed him behind bars for twenty-plus years. He kept his nose clean, read his bible, and did as he was told without a whimper or a wink. Although he’d grown into a big and muscular man, he wasn’t any trouble to anyone. The mere sight of his bulk was enough to discourage anyone from picking a fight with him, and this helped to keep him out of trouble, just as he hoped it would.

Work Release Inmates, or WRI’s as they were called, weren’t in the community to seek permanent employment. They were there to provide a steady flow of income for the correctional center, and to be slowly re-introduced into a world they knew nothing about. It had been over two decades for him and much had changed, so for people like him, returning to society wasn’t as easy as one might be inclined to think. There was so much to learn.

It would take time and lots of hard work to heal, both emotionally as well as mentally—if one was lucky enough. Most WRI’s were incapable of adjusting to life outside prison, but Reece was hopeful he’d be one of the lucky few.

In order not to burden the taxpayers, WRI’s were required to pay their own way. They paid for their room, board, and meals. They were required to attend long sessions with a government appointed psychiatrist and to be present at all religious sermons at least a few times a week, every week. At the same time, they worked at re-learning ways to adapt to a society they would soon have to re-join but what was as alien to them as the concept of freedom.

The five men, Reece being the oldest at thirty-nine, worked from dusk till dawn, Monday through Thursday. On Fridays and Saturdays, together with their group leader—a big African American man named Jeremiah Sauls who was a rehabilitated ex-con himself—they spent eight hours in rehab sessions with the state appointed psychiatrist who, obviously, would rather be elsewhere where real money could be made rather than the pittance he was paid by the state.

Guess everyone had their cross to bear.

Unbeknownst to Reece, as deprived as he was of any social contact, he was a handsome, virile looking man with a tall broad frame, lean hips, and wavy blond locks that he wore in a tail at the nape of his neck. He was always clean-shaven, organized, meticulous, and quiet. You never heard him raise his voice to anyone. It just wasn’t in his nature. He hadn’t raised his voice ever since that fateful night . . .

Reece always kept to himself, speaking only when spoken to. He was known as a man of few words, but Doctor Brouchard, the psychiatrist, had declared that Reece was ready for a little more freedom because in his professional opinion, he believed the silent blond giant posed no threat and he was of no danger to either himself or to others.

Reece was an excellent hard worker, too, never complaining and never quitting until he was told to. He clearly needed a little more freedom in order to progress than the other WRI’s since, unlike them, he didn’t seem inclined to do anything independent of his group leader or superiors.

Doctor Brouchard’s professional assessment helped give Reece more wiggle room than his fellow ex-cons were entitled to, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to take advantage of it. He refused an offer to move off the correctional facility and into his own place even though the doctor had insisted he was ready. But Reece just didn’t seem to be interested.

Twenty years in prison is a long, long time to get out of your system . . .

In spite of his good looks and obvious virility, Reece attracted a lot of attention from the womenfolk, but he didn’t pay them any heed. Whenever he was in town for cigarettes—a bad habit he’d picked up in prison—or when he was out doing some shopping for the facility at the local grocers, women would gravitate toward him like fluttering moths to flame and they’d try to attract his attention, but to no avail. He never let on that he was the least bit interested and that’s because he just wasn’t.

What they didn’t know was, Reece was afraid of them. He was afraid to feel, to allow his heart to open for anyone because he was afraid it would unleash the ugly monster inside him as it had done once before. He knew himself well enough to understand that his passions ran deep, and he had to work hard to suppress that part of him from resurfacing ever since it made its appearance that fateful night during Mardi Gras . . . two decades ago. He was determined that he would never unleash that part of him again, and he knew that the only way he could ensure that was to close himself off to the world.

The Work Release House wasn’t really all that bad anyway. For one, you learned a lot of skills you didn’t need to learn in prison. Like cooking. And two, you didn’t have to pay for female companionship. Always a plus to take off the edge.

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Jeremiah, their group leader, would pay hookers to come and help his boys unwind. He was pretty good about that, understanding that they were under a lot of pressure as it was, and he wanted to help them decompress.

Reece had chosen one particular prostitute—one with frizzy blonde hair who went by the name of Glorious. She was a pretty girl who wore too much make-up, but she really took a liking to him—as most women did. For Glorious, Reece Dubois was the most normal client she had ever been with. He had only one strange request: she had to whisper a name other than his own when he made love to her.

It wasn’t really strange to the seasoned prostitute since most Johns wanted her to call them by another name, but as her interest in him grew, she began to wonder who it was he thought about when he was with her because she was almost certain it wasn’t her.

He was a tender and giving lover who was nothing like her other clients. Not even close. Reece was clean, always smelled fresh, and he didn’t just wham, bam, thank you ma’am her. He took his time, spending a lot of it in foreplay; touching, kissing, and caressing her in the dark beneath him. He was driven to give her pleasure, and he’d even hold back his own orgasm until she found hers.

Reece, to Glorious, was the dream John. He was the dream man. Period.

She found herself looking forward to meeting him every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night even if it meant having to lose out on real money because Sauls only paid so much for her services. She could barely contain her giddiness when the moment arrived when she could finally take him by his hand and lead him to his room. It was only there when he warmed up and came alive in her skilled hands. When he did, he was a force to be reckoned with and he was irresistible to any woman, no matter how jaded she believed herself to be. It didn’t take long for her to realize that she was falling hard for him . . .

Every Sunday, a certain Pastor Beauchamp would come to the House and talk with the men and read from the Bible. He taught them how to pray and he held regular group prayers. He sent them the message of hope that Jesus had died for the sins of ALL of mankind, even those who were yet to be born in the future.

Out of all the men attending his service, Reece was the most enthralled. He’d sit in those uncomfortable fold-up chairs and hang on the good man’s every word. Bible study was two hours long, and Pastor Beauchamp knew it was trying for any man to endure, but Dubois was as entranced at the end as he was from the start. It was clear to the religious man that this ex-con was searching for salvation.

And that was rare.

Pastor Beauchamp offered bible study sessions as part of his weekly itinerary. He was a kind bear of a man, standing at the same height as Reece Dubois. He had bushy gray brows arching over striking sterling-blue eyes, and a thick crop of silver gray hair that he always combed off to the side.

Fifty-nine year old Leonard Beauchamp was head of The Lost Sheep of the Lord Assembly on the outskirts of Caddo Parish, and he was known as a gentle giant. Even at that age, though, he was surprisingly virile and energetic. He was big and robust of stature and he had hands like shovels, much like Reece’s. He was always dressed in pressed black vests, slacks, and dress shirts that were dark enough to contrast with the white band he wore under his collar. Yet, no matter how impressively large Pastor Beauchamp was, there was an undeniable gentleness emanating from him that calmed even the most aggressive man whenever he was around, and what made him an asset to the Work Release House.

Over the course of that year, Pastor Beauchamp began showing more and more interest in the quiet Reece T. Dubois. Although their contact was limited to their religious sessions and confined within the general meeting hall where he held bible study, Dubois never failed to intrigue him, and for his part, the quiet WRI received the lion’s share of Beauchamp’s attention.

Reece, too, began to notice. He was very much aware that the pastor’s eyes were almost constantly on him, but he never let on that he was aware of it. Inwardly, Reece was curious why a man like him was so interested in an ex-con like him, and being the distrustful type, he kept his distance even as the pastor attempted to gain a closer relationship with him.

Then one day, as Reece rose from his fold-up chair after the two hour session, the pastor approached him. He saw it coming, of course, because he’d noticed that certain something in the man’s eyes that day that told him he was about to ask him for something. That’s why he wanted to get out of the main hall as quickly as he could. He wasn’t the least bit interested in any chummy-chummy relationship with anyone.

Pastor Beauchamp had watched Reece Dubois make his way to the door with the other ex-cons, trying to blend in. He smiled inwardly. There was no blending in for a guy like Reece! It was humorous that he even tried. But he had noticed that Reece was in a hurry, so he knew he had to catch the man before he disappeared, and he hurried after him.

Mister Dubois!

He watched as Reece paused. He could almost hear the sigh of disappointment. Then he watched as the blond raised his handsome head before he looked over his shoulder. Yeah?

May I have a word with you?

He didn’t look the least bit inclined to, but he surprised them both when he finally nodded. Just hope it don’t take all too long. I’ve got kitchen duty tonight, Reece said with a pleasant and deep voice as he turned to face him.

I promise you, Leonard said with a smile. It won’t take long.

Reece answered with a nod.

Your time here is coming to an end, isn’t it? Leonard asked as he came to stand in front of the tall, young man. They were the same height although Reece was slightly narrower in the shoulders, but not by much.

Yeah.

Leonard smiled. How long more do you have?

Two weeks.

You must be impatient to get on with your life, Leonard said, but the blond remained silent as he looked away. Anyway, he continued, I’ve been talking to your group leader, Mr. Sauls, and he agrees with me that you’ve exhibited extraordinary progress, something I’ve only ever seen with you to be honest. And I’ve been doing this for a long time.

Reece frowned curiously as he raised his gaze.

What I’m saying is, you’ve been on excellent behavior here, and your group leader has given me permission to ask you if you’d like to have supper with me and my wife, Elise, next Saturday. It’ll be a wonderful chance for you to be in a more informal setting than what you’re used to. Then you’ll get to meet her, and I’m sure you’ll like her. She’s very pure and kind of heart, he said with a warm smile and healthy, rosy cheeks.

Reece bent his blond head and shook it. I dunno, Pastor Beauchamp. I’ve got those sessions with the shrink every Friday and Saturday, and I really don’t wanna miss ‘em.

Well, I’ve spoken with Doctor Brouchard and he’s given you the green light. In fact, he was very happy to know I planned to invite you to my home. He’s assured me it’s fine and that you’re more than ready to take it to the next level. Besides, don’t your sessions end around five?

Yeah.

Well, Pastor Beauchamp smiled warmly, what do you say?

Reece looked at the big man with doubt mirrored in his eyes. I dunno . . .

I assure you, Leonard said. You won’t be sorry. Elise is a wonderful cook. We don’t have supper until seven in the evening anyway, and I can be by, say, around six?

I really don’t think it’s a good idea, being what I am, he said with dark lashes down. It’s not right exposing your Missus to the likes of me, sir.

Leonard smiled in understanding as he clapped Reece’s hard, muscular shoulder. Just by saying that tells me you’re more than ready to re-enter society, Mr. Dubois. Once people can admit to their faults, they’re ready to begin healing. Besides, we’re all sinners, and if God can forgive through the power of his son, Jesus Christ, then who am I to question anyone? I like you, Mr. Dubois. You’re a good man. Besides, I want to talk about a possible job for you at the church. Maybe some farm work at my home? If things work out well, it might be a permanent thing.

Reece raised his head to look somewhat timidly but also curiously at the big pastor, but he finally nodded his agreement when he saw how much the man wanted him to come to his home and have supper with him.

So it was settled, and Reece would go. With the group leader and psychiatrist’s permission—and blessing—Reece was set to have supper outside the strict life of the State and in a family setting . . . for the very first time in his entire life. In fact, judging by the pastor’s warm disposition, Reece was certain that sitting down to supper with him and his wife was going to be tough on him. Real tough. He knew he had no clue how to handle himself in the company of two elderly people. Where did one start?

The more he thought about it, the less happy he felt. In fact, he was worried. He wasn’t all too worried about his behavior in an informal setting outside his current and strict life—one he’s known for most of his adult life—even though that in and of itself was worrisome enough for a guy like him. No. He was mostly worried about leaving the known for the unknown and how he would ultimately react to that change.

Reece wasn’t looking forward to stepping out and into a situation without strict rules, regulations, and people telling him what, when, and how to do things. There was comfort in a structured setting like that. He knew he’d feel uncomfortable outside of it and he began to wonder if that discomfort would manifest itself in negative, and for him, compromising ways at the Beauchamp residence. Would he be able to adapt without making a total fool of himself?

Doctor Brouchard, though, believed he could. He told him this was good for him and his progress as he worked on his goal to return to life on the outside. It would help prepare him for the real world that he was set to face in little over two weeks anyway, and if he could get a job with the good Pastor, a man who was well-known for his kindness and generosity in Shreveport, he’d have an edge over other WRI’s.

In fact, the promise of early release was what ultimately had Reece decide to go through with the supper at the pastor’s house despite his grave misgivings. It was high-time he moved on. He was thirty-nine already. He could start learning to adapt to life on the straight and narrow. He could at least give it his best shot.

He came to his decision that Friday night in his room. After vigorous but tender love-making, he rolled off of Glorious and laid himself on his back in the rumpled up bed. The scent of cheap perfume and their sex hung heavy in the shadowy room, and it would almost always suffocate him, but his mind was so far off that he barely noticed.

You really don’t need to wear so much perfume, he said.

It makes me feel beautiful, she said.

He didn’t respond.

She smiled softly at him as he lay in the setting sun coming through the dark blue curtains of his room. He couldn’t know how beautiful he appeared to her. He’d been exceptionally sweet and his foreplay was longer than usual, but it gave her a satisfying end that nearly had her faint in its wake. She raised herself on an elbow and looked down at his magnificent naked body that had a smooth chest and hard, bumpy stomach purely from all that hard labor.

Roy?

It’s Reece now, he said without looking at her. He was back to being aloof.

She really didn’t care. She was still floating on a wonderful cloud, and she smiled as she looked at his quiet, handsome face while he continued to stare up at the ceiling. Okay, Reece, she said as she ran a slender hand tipped with long acrylic red nails across his wide chest, tracing a long scar in between the bulky flat plates of his pecs. I was wondering, she began. Since you’ll be leaving here soon, and only if you want, you’ll need a place to stay, right?

Yep.

So I’ve been thinking, maybe you can come live with me and Bryan. She watched as he slowly frowned before his blue eyes moved to look at her. She flashed him another smile. I already spoke to Mr. Wilson at the Miscellaneous Mercantile, she went on to say, and he says there’s gonna be an opening in the warehouse. It pays $10.00 an hour with room for advancement. What do you say?

I dunno, he said as he resumed staring up at the ceiling.

"We can be together, Reece. You don’t have to marry me or anything like that. And I promise not to put any pressure on you, but don’t you think we have something really good and