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“She would normally avoid any plant with shiny leaves. Animals—they can smell when something is harmful. But when she was tied right beside it and had no other choice—goats do not always make wise decisions.” Gabi gave a partial smile.
Julia didn’t feel any better. Her small action had such far-reaching consequences and affected both households. “And Luc—he cannot be pleased to spend another day away from his olives because of me, especially after the mess I made in the nursery, and then surprising him in his studio—”
“You saw his studio?” Gabi asked.
Julia straightened. She lifted the cat onto her lap, stroking his fur, and nodded, still feeling utterly miserable. “I took out one of the crates from the parlor, for storage.”
Gabi’s eyes had brightened considerably. “What did you think?”
“Luc’s paintings are... they are completely splendid,” Julia said. “More than splendid. It is—he is...” She paused trying to think of words to describe how very remarkable Luc’s talent was. “My father—perhaps you know already—is theCommissaire Expert des Beaux-Arts Anglais.I know art. I’ve seen it, studied it my entire life, so I am not simply flattering.” She turned her knees toward Gabi, setting a hand on the other woman’s arm, wanting her to understand the significance of what she was saying. “Luc is more than simply a person with a talent for drawing and an eye for color. He possesses... theje ne sais quoithat separates the artist from the genius. It is not something a person can describe in words, but when one looks at Luc’s paintings”—she glanced at the painting on the wall behind Gabi—“it is felt deep in one’s soul.”
“Oui,” Gabi whispered, her eyes shining. “I know it.”
“Luc’s paintings should be on a museum wall,” Julia said. “They should be appreciated, studied, experienced... not just set on the ground of his storage shed. They are exceptional.”
Gabi nodded.
“He should be among the artists in the Grand Palais, representing France,” Julia said. “But he keeps his work hidden away. Why?”
“You’ll have to ask him,” Gabi said.
“I do not think he will tell me.” Julia gave a small shrug, feeling again the weight of the trouble she’d caused. “I imagine he regrets rescuing me from the Rivulet train station.”
“I am certain that is not so,” Gabi said. “Luc seems rather surly, but he has the most compassionate heart of anyone I know.” One side of her mouth tugged up in a smile. “He just has trouble showing it. I suppose it’s how he protects himself.”
Julia thought of how he’d ridden all day to send a telegram for a person he’d just met, putting his new seedlings at risk. How he watched over his aunt even though she did not believe she needed it and had brought home a wet stranger who’d gotten onto the wrong train. The idea that his gruff demeanor was simply a mask made sense when compared to his actions. She smiled, turning back to rest her chin in her hands. “But my mistakes these past days would push even the most patient person to the edge of their tolerance.”
Gabi chuckled and put an arm around Julia’s shoulders. “You are too hard on yourself, ma chérie. You will see; it will all work out. Tomorrow, you and Luc will be back in Riv with the new goat, and Alice will be happy, which will make Mathieu happy.” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “And I will have peace with my neighbor again.”
“And you will keep Coquette,” Julia said.
“Oui.” Gabi rested her head on Julia’s shoulder. “Merci, Juliette.”
Julia tipped her head, leaning it on Gabi’s. She felt warm at the woman’s affection, and very loved, in spite of the trouble she’d caused. After today’s disasters, Julia thought she was the last person anyone in Rivulet should be thanking. But Gabi’s words gave her hope. Tomorrow would be better, and she promised herself she’d set everything right, and nobody would regret her visit to Provence.
The wiggly feeling came back into her stomach.
Especially not Luc.
Chapter Ten
The eastern sky had barelya tinge of purple when Julia followed Luc outside to the farm wagon. Gabi had provided a coat for Julia and packed a basket of food. Standing in the front hall in her nightclothes, she’d explained to Julia in a sleepy voice that there was a valley to the north with goat dairies, but to get there, they would need to go around the mountains. It would be close to noon by the time they arrived.
Julia climbed onto the wagon’s bench with Luc’s assistance. She secured her handbag on her arm, and as they rode, her eyes grew accustomed to the dim. Time passed, but Julia had no way of knowing how long they had been traveling, since it was still too dark to see either of her timepieces. But at least the road ahead was visible—for the most part. When she glanced to the side, she saw only Luc’s silhouette in the darkness. His communication this morning had consisted of one-word answers and grunts, and she was not certain whether he was tired or annoyed at the inconvenience of another errand taking him away from his work.
Julia pulled the coat tighter around herself, shivering as a cool breeze hit and wishing she’d brought a blanket to put over her legs. She closed her eyes but did not fall asleep—the wagon’s bench was too hard, the road too bumpy.
The silence was broken by the occasional noise from the horse and the crunch of the wheels on the gravel road. A few times, they passed a farmhouse in the brightening morning, but Julia still hadn’t seen another person. The silence felt heavy and uncomfortable, and she finally could take it no longer.
“It’s a lovely sunrise, don’t you think?” She cringed at the inelegance of her statement.
Luc glanced at her and then toward the pink-and-purple sky. He made an affirmative-sounding grunt.
Julia wasn’t about to let them lapse back into the awkward silence. “I think we are in for a nice day, don’t you?”
He grunted again.
Apparently, Luc was not interested in early-morning conversation. Julia gave it one more attempt. “Do you travel to Greece often, Luc?”
