Believe (Gray Wolf Security #25)

CHAPTER ONE

“Good mornin’ Miss Esta,” said Beau.

Beauregard Couvillion was a distant cousin to the Robicheauxs. He and his brothers had been working The General Store as a favor to their cousins. But truth be told, for Beau it offered him a chance to figure out what he wanted to do in this life.

“Is it?” she snapped. Beau just smiled at the old woman and nodded.

“Indeed it is,” he chuckled. “The sun is shinin’, there’s Christmas in the air wherever you go, and we got some more of those chocolate truffles you like so much.”

“Christmas,” she scoffed. “I don’t know why everyone makes such a big deal about Christmas. It’s just another day.”

“It’s magical,” smiled Beau.

“Aren’t you a bit old for all that bologna?” she asked staring at the young man. He tried his Mr. Happy attitude with her every time she entered the store. It’s as if it were a competition for him. If she smiled, he won. If she remained her ornery, angry self, she won.

Or did she?

“I don’t think it’s bologna at all, ma’am. I think it’s the time of year where magical things can occur. Where people come together and celebrate all that’s good in the world, instead of all the bad.”

“You really have tasted the pudding haven’t you? A little message for you, Beau. There’s no magic. You get old. You’re put on social security, which by the way is barely enough to live on, sometimes it’s not at all. You try to keep the bill collectors at bay and then you die.”

“Miss Esta, you don’t mean that. What about your children? I know you have a few and you have grandkids.”

“My children decided to move away, leaving me here to fend for myself and I’m not sure my grandkids even know I’m alive,” she snapped.

Beau didn’t know what to say to that. He watched as the old woman filled her small basket. He knew that he would ring everything up on sale, ensuring that her bill was roughly half of what it should be. That’s what they were instructed to do by their owners, the Robicheauxs.

“Where did your children move to?” asked Beau trying to keep the conversation going with the old woman.

“They’re in Port Allen,” she frowned.

“Miss Esta, that’s only about an hour away. You could go and see them.”

“And how would I do that?” she snapped. “Did you see me driving into the parking lot? I walked! I don’t have a car and they took my driver’s license from me.”

“Well, if you wanted to go, I’d drive you myself,” he said almost hoping she would say yes.

“Why would you do that?” she asked looking at him sideways. “I’m just an old woman that’s not very nice to you when I come in here. Why would you do something so nice for me?”

“Because I think you’re lonely, Miss Esta. I think you’d enjoy seeing your kids and grandkids and it would do my heart good to help you.”

She stared at him for a long time, almost making Beau uncomfortable. Finally, she turned and put a few more things in her basket.

He watched as she looked at prices, picking up the fresh apples and turning them in her hand, smelling them.

“Apples are on sale, Miss Esta. They’re only fifty cents apiece this week.

” She looked at him, nodding, and placed three in her basket.

Making her way around the store, he watched her stop at the artists section.

She reached out and touched a silk scarf, a small hint of a smile turning her lips upward.

She let the scarf go and then ran her fingers over a cameo brooch.

Beau tried to watch her without her noticing. She seemed mesmerized by that brooch. He knew that it was handmade by Shay.

“It sure is pretty, isn’t it, Miss Esta?”

“What?” she said looking up, somewhat startled.

“The brooch. It’s pretty isn’t it?” She nodded. “Shay made it. She’s one of our artists. It reminds me of something my grandmother used to wear.”

Esta nodded, still touching the old brooch that had been remade by Shay. She’d often find old pins, necklaces, or earrings and remount them, clean them up, and even make them into something different. Her designs were wildly popular.

“Would you like to add it to your order, Miss Esta?”

“No. No, I can’t afford something so frivolous. Besides, where on earth would I wear something so fine?”

“Church,” smiled Beau.

“Church? I don’t go to mass anymore. None of it matters any longer,” she said with her voice laced in sadness. “Just ring all this up, Beau.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said nodding at her. When her bags were filled and stacked neatly, carefully in her rolling cart she turned to leave.

“Miss Esta, I could take a break and drive you home if you like.”

“No. No, no,” she said shaking her head. “It’s alright. This is my time outside and as you said, the sun is shining.”

“Miss Esta, it’s chilly outside. I mean, it’s not freezin’ but it’s cold and that coat isn’t anything special.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

Beau wasn’t giving up. He walked toward the door, blocking her path. Esta stared up at the handsome young man. He was a distant cousin of the Robicheauxs but damn if he didn’t look just like them all.

“Miss Esta, it would make me feel better if you at least took my scarf,” he said wrapping it around her neck. At first she acted as if she would protest, then she just nodded at him. The warmth of the scarf on her neck was more welcomed than she cared to admit.

“Alright, alright. I don’t need to hear all your fussing.” He smiled at the older woman as he held the door for her. She turned and gave him a slight nod.

Beau watched her walking down River Road, hugging the edge to avoid traffic. He worried about her but he couldn’t force her to take what he’d offered.

“She’s a tough one to figure out,” said Matthew. Beau jumped, turning to laugh at Matthew.

“Uncle Matthew! You scared the dickens out of me,” he laughed. “She is a tough one. I try to offer help to her but she just won’t hear of it. I’m worried for her.”

“I am too,” said Matthew. “I’m worried for her well-being, her health, her mental state, and her soul. She’s given up and that’s never a good place to be.”

“What’s her story?”

“She’s had a rough life, Beau. Her husband was killed in Vietnam, leaving her with two little mouths to feed. She cleaned houses, offices, and anything to make money to keep her children fed and clothed. We tried to help but she refused.

“When the children got older, they went off to college on scholarship.”

“Scholarship? Would that be the Robicheaux scholarship?” he smirked.

“Maybe,” smiled Matthew. “When they graduated, every last one of them left their mother and headed up north. Most ungrateful children I’ve ever met in my life. They blamed their mother for not having what others had. That woman worked her back to the bone to give those children what they needed.”

“Sounds like those children need a talkin’ to Uncle Matthew,” frowned Beau. Matthew only nodded.

“Giving her that scarf was a sweet thing to do, Beau. I’m proud of you.”

“It was nothing. I just worry she’s going to freeze out there,” he said.

“I’ll keep an eye on her, don’t worry,” he smiled. “In fact, right now Irene is following her all the way home.”

“Can we do something for her? Can we help her, Uncle Matthew?”

“That’s the plan, Beau. That’s the plan.”