Chapter Six #2
“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.
“You’re right, thank you. Sweet Dreams couldn’t be better. I still have a great deal of work to do on the house, but I’ll enjoy that.”
Luc decided he should give the grocer more credit. Grace could have been hysterical over Guidry’s behavior. Instead, she was calmly achieving her aims, despite the hurt and fear lingering below her outward show.
“Good to know you haven’t had trouble with that ghost.” He offered a curt nod.
I’m not a ghost. I’m cursed.
Grace arched a fine, delicate eyebrow. “I don’t believe in ghosts, Mr. DeLille.”
“Well now, I can’t say as I do or don’t believe in spirits, but folks say odd things happen out at Sweet Dreams.” He paused in his work to lean on the counter, sharing a companionable moment with a friend.
Nonetheless, Luc listened carefully. DeLille liked to hear himself talk, and nearly always let fall some useful tidbit.
“Why don’t you tell me all about it while you fill this order for me?”
Given her tone, Grace did not wish to listen to local legends. However, DeLille wouldn’t care if she listened or not, as long as she behaved like she did.
The man returned to gathering the items from her list, placing them all on the counter.
As he talked, Grace surveyed the store. Shelves were fully stocked. Window displays were thoughtfully arranged. Every inch was clean and smelling of pine.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve only been out to Sweet Dreams once or twice, myself. I was a green boy and still stupid enough to want to impress my friends by bragging that I spent the night in your house,” DeLille recalled.
Luc smiled at the memory. He’d not been in the mood for company, and used his ephemeral skills to frighten off young DeLille. Didn’t regret it one whit, either.
“Oh?” Grace’s voice held true interest.
“Excuse me a minute. We have the flour sacks in the back room.” He vanished behind the curtain, returning a moment later with a twenty-pound sack of flour. The man set the flour on the counter then retrieved the preserves from Grace’s list.
Grace took the list back from DeLille and began to tick off items. “Anyways,” the grocer resumed the story, “I went out there one evening when the moon was waning. Weren’t any clouds, so I had plenty of light.”
A bag of apples joined the tins, jars, and sacks on the counter. Grace shouldn’t have to haul all of that by herself. However, Luc couldn’t help her, not unless he was willing to reveal everything. He wasn’t.
Not yet. She wasn’t ready to accept his help.
“I bedded down in that big room on the first floor,” DeLille said. “Used to be a salon or some such.”
Luc knew the room. Bright and sunny, it had been a favorite place for a very young Grace to sit beside her mother while the older woman read a story.
“I used to sit in that room with my mother,” Grace said.
“Fell asleep quick,” the grocer stated. “About one in the morning, some howling woke me. I looked around. Didn’t see anything.
Was settling back on my blanket when this man’s face come’s straight out of the ceiling.
He was crying and carrying on something awful.
Saying how only the cursed could survive at Sweet Dreams, and asked what kind of winding sheet did I want before I was put in my casket.
” DeLille went to the sundries area, where he grabbed three reams of paper, two packets of nibs, and three bottles of ink.
“Amazing,” Grace said.
The older man placed the sundries on the counter then checked the list. “I hightailed it away. Left everything I brought with me behind and never went back. You wrote twenty yards of gingham here. You go on over to the fabrics on that table beneath the window and pick out the bolts you want. Then I’ll cut them up for you. ”
“What did your friends think when they found out?” she asked, as she examined fabrics.
“Never told them. They would have teased me merciless if they knew.”
“And you never went back? Not even in daylight?” Grace chose three bolts in different colors, and carried them over to the counter. Luc approved the colors, cheerful but not too bright. What would she do with them?
“I see you have some large panels of lace,” she said. “I’ll take a dozen of those.”
“Of course. Bring them over here, and I’ll get ‘them wrapped. To answer your question, I did go back, once. I took a gal out there sparking one day. She didn’t care for it, said it was too spooky. Married her the next year. You, planning to make curtains for them big front windows?”
“Thinking about it.” Grace turned perusing the store shelves, bins and all. “So, that was the last time you went out to my house?” She ambled over to the sewing notions, where Luc watched her collect needles and thread.
“Yep. Better add some shears and a whet stone. Unless you already got that,” DeLille suggested.
“No, I don’t have any. Good idea. Do you think I’ll have many people coming out, like you did? To challenge my ghost?”
“Thought you didn’t believe.”
“I don’t, but they might.” Grace’s expression was open, taking in everything the grocer was saying.
Luc still worried about her but knew she was in no immediate danger.
“No, you’ll be fine. Word’s gotten out you’re living there. Still, you might think about getting a dog or two. Isolated like you are, they’d be company and warn you about intruders.”
“I’ll consider that.” She nodded.
“Taddy.” DeLille addressed the lad as he came back in the store. “You help Miz Thibodaux load up her packhorse.”
“Yes, suh, Mista DeLille.”
“Day’s getting late,” the grocer said. “I’ll give you a hand, so’s you can be on your way and get home afore dark. And don’t you worry none about them fencing supplies. I’ll have Taddy drive them out to Sweet Dreams tomorrow along with your mattress, the icebox and some ice.”
The three of them made quick work of loading, and Grace approached the tumbled down gates that marked the Sweet Dreams entrance just as the sun sank below the horizon.
Luc trailed behind. The pain of his effort was exhausting. So, he was a bit surprised when he heard her rein Maymie to a halt.
“Whoa.”