She also fed the cat, who—when she was near—still huddled under the large iron stove. The feline had never become friendly. Grace believed it was because of the dogs. However, the preferences of a cat were of small importance.
Her highest priority, and the most exciting prospect—other than Luc, of course—was resolving the reincarnation paradox of being both Grace and Grainne. She stood on the precipice of a great adventure. However, she had no idea when or how that adventure would begin.
I did not figure out or believe in curses and reincarnation in a single day.
The adventure would start whenever it started. Grace doubted she could do anything to make that happen.
She spent the day catching up on household chores neglected while she’d been researching. Shortly after lunch, her land manager knocked on her door.
“Come on in,” she called, recognizing the pattern of raps he typically used. Opening the door she smiled a welcome. The morning’s steady rain had become a deluge. The middle-aged man removed his drenched hat from his graying hair. A black rain slicker covered his clothes and most of his sun weathered skin. He enteredbut stood near the door. “I’m dripping all over your floor, Miz Thibodaux.”
“Goodness, all that rain can’t be good for the fields, but a little wet won’t hurt the floors.” She hurried to bring him a couple of kitchen towels. “Here, dry yourself as best you can and don’t mind the floor.”
“Thank you,” he mumbled from beneath the towel he scrubbed over his sodden hair and face.
“What brings you to the house?” Grace asked, though she suspected she knew.
“We’ll need a flood before those plants will be in any danger,” he addressed her first concern. “As to what brings me, I came to tell you that my crew and I have been offered work up near the Arkansas border. Pays a lot more than you, and we all have mouths to feed.”
“I wish I could increase the pay for you and the crew, but I need to manage what I have for future expenses and emergencies. A flood that wipes out my crop, for example.”
“Makes sense. Nonetheless, I’m sorry, Miz Thibodaux, but we have to take it.”
“Of course, I don’t want to hold you back, but I also can’t harvest the beetroot by myself.”
“Might be, the crew and I could come back for the couple of days needed to bring in the harvest. I’ll talk it over with my new boss and let you know.”
“That will work for the harvest, but what about my next crop and the one after that?”
“I know some fellas might be willing to hire on with their crews. They’re all working right now, but that will change. I’ll ask them, and send you information on how to contact those who are interested.”
“I appreciate that. You’re sure I can’t persuade you to stay on just until the harvest?” She’d found it reassuring to have someone trustworthy near to hand.
“I stay, and I’ll lose this opportunity. I can’t do that to myself, or my crew. Nothin’ against you, Miz Thibodaux, but I got people depending on me, like everyone else.”
“I understand.” She and Luc had expected this, just not for a couple of days.
Luc, I hope you’re hearing this.
“When will you be leaving?” Grace asked the manager.
“We should have everything secure by end of work tomorrow.”
Good, if what Luc told me is right, DeLille won’t act until tomorrow night at the earliest. Most likely, we’ll see him the following morning.
She did a quick calculation of the money she kept in her office safe. “I’ll have your wages ready by then.”
“I’d better get back. I want to leave your fields in the best possible shape.” He dipped his head.
“Thank you.” She saw him out the door, frowning at the pond-sized puddles in her yard. Grace went to the back door as soon as the man had retreated. Her frown deepened. The dock was sunk halfway in water. The bayou was rising, fast.
“I didn’t think it had been raining that much.” She tried to recall when the rain had started. Sometime while she’d had her nose buried in books about reincarnation. Returning to the house, she placed her rain gear and tall galoshes right inside the back door, so they were easy to quickly grab. Then she resumed her cleaning and organizing, keeping her rifle close.
“Luc, I need to talk to you,” Grace called, looking up from the straightening she was doing in the kitchen. He’d said to call his name and he would come.
Shortly after dusk, Grace locked the front door, then went to look out the back. Rain fell in sheets, and even less of the dock was visible than a few hours ago.
“We won’t be sitting by the bayou tonight, boys.” She let the dogs out, taking an umbrella and standing outside the back door watching them. “You stay close to the house now. I don’t want either of you finding a water moccasin in a puddle or worse, a gator.”
