“So, you hit him?”
Luc had no sympathy; Guidry deserved what he’d gotten.
She nodded. “With this can of…” she looked at the dented tin, “…black beans. I didn’t think I hit him that hard.”
She gnawed her lower lip.
Luc sensed the self-doubt growing in her.
The grocer chuckled. “Beaned him with the beans. It’s okay, miss. That there’s Thomas Guidry. He’s a local citizen. Owns the tavern across the way. Holds a couple jobs around the county, and has a lot of family money besides. Thinks he’s better than everyone. Never did learn decent manners. He and his daddy are two peas in a pod.”
“Thank you for explaining. Still, I worry that I may have hurt him.” She cast a worried look at the fallen man.
The grocer was good. Luc felt the thread of her self-doubt fade away.
“I’ll have my stock-boy tote Guidry over to the tavern. They’ll take care of him. Taddy!”
A tall gangly youth hurried out from the back of the store. Grace drew in a deep breath while she waited.
DeLille assisted Taddy in hoisting the unconscious man onto the boy’s shoulder. “Now then,” the grocer dusted his hands, as if he’d just handled something dirty. “How can I help you today Miz …?”
“Thibodaux.”
“So, you’re the woman opening upSweet Dreams. Don’t think I was here the last time you came in. I’m Horace DeLille, grocer, mayor and Duval Point sheriff. You need anything, you come to me.” His smile was open and sincere.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. DeLille.” She smiled and gave a nod.
“Welcome to Duval Point.”
“Thank you.” She dipped her head. “I have a list of supplies I need, and I want to arrange for delivery of the icebox and mattress I ordered. I also need fencing materials and want a few regular deliveries.” She gave him her list.
DeLille studied the paper for a moment then looked up at Grace. “I can handle this list. Taddy’ll drive out t’Sweet Dreamswith the ice box, mattress and fencing tomorrow.”
“Thank you. That will be convenient,” she said. The grocer moved in a flurry, pulling items from the shelves behind him. “You only been atSweet Dreamsa few a days. Everything fine out there? Haven’t had any problems?”
Grace stared. Luc frowned. Plain neighborliness explained the question? However, the fire made it and the grocer suspect. What would Grace tell him?
“Actually, I arrived atSweet Dreamsa week ago, and no. No problems other than being really tired when I go to bed. I must have been very tired and didn’t completely doused the coals in the kitchen hearth last night. I woke to a small fire this morning.”
She shouldn’t blame herself. Luc had to find a way to convince her that she was not the source of all her own troubles.
“That’s serious,” the grocer said. Grace straightened her shoulders.
Smart of DeLille to empathize. He definitely knew how to handle customers.
“Yes, however, I was lucky, the fire was small and didn’t do much damage.”
“You ain’t hurt, Miz Thibodaux?” He glanced over his shoulder from his task, his bushy brows drawn tight.
“I’m fine. I suffered more soot than anything else.” Her lips lifted the tiniest fraction.
“You’ll need double the cleaning supplies you got on your list,” DeLille told her “I’ll find everything for you.”
The man was treating her like a child; why not put him in his place, Luc wondered? Is she so wounded that she’ll tolerate that sort of treatment maybe even encourage it?
Grace nodded, presenting a small, grateful smile.
Luc was familiar with DeLille, as well as Guidry and the postmistress, Mrs. DeLille. Middle-aged, the grocer was a good sort, although he’d been a bit wilder as a young man.
