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Luc glanced at her. He stepped into the mud, frowning when he sank down. He braced his shoulder against the back of the wagon. “When I yell, pull on the horse’s harness. Make sure she walks straight forward, keeping the wheels in line.”
Julia nodded and tried not to allow her worry to show. She didn’t know the first thing about leading a horse, but she figured it must be very similar to leading a goat. She climbed up out of the ditch and stood in front of the horse, finding it to be larger than she’d remembered now that the two were facing one another and standing so close. Water dripped from the animal’s mane and caught in droplets on her eyelashes. Julia took hold of the harness on either side of the horse’s neck. The leather smelled wet and slipped a bit in her fingers.
“Allez,” Luc called.
“Allez, cheval,” Julia said to the horse. She stepped back, pulling with all her strength.
The horse lowered his head, pushing back on his hooves as he strained. The cart groaned and budged the slightest bit, but it didn’t roll forward.
A splat sounded, and Luc cursed.
Julia let go of the harness. She rushed back to the rear of the wagon, stepping gingerly along the edge of the ditch. Luc had slipped and was on his hands and knees in the mud.
She bent to help him, but he jerked his arm away.
He pushed himself up to kneel and wiped his dirty hands on his trousers. His face was red, and he looked furious.
At that moment, the little goat that had gotten loose and invaded the picnic basket jumped down from the wagon and landed on Luc’s shoulder. It balanced for a moment, then bounced away.
Luc lunged for the goat but missed, and his hands splashed back into the mud. He got to his feet, tearing his boots free and stomping out of the ditch. “Juliette, you have brought nothing but bad luck!” He sputtered the words, rainwater splashing off his hat.
Julia drew back, feeling as if she’d been struck. A rock clogged her throat, and her eyes stung. She slapped her hand over her mouth as a sob pushed its way through. The truth of his statement washed over her, and she rushed away before Luc could see the effect it had.
She sank down onto a wet rock and buried her face in her arms, sobs fighting free in spite of her efforts to hold them back. Luc was right. She had brought nothing but bad luck since she’d stepped off the train in Igney-Avricourt. She’d avoided the facts, blaming Nicholas or the absent Rivulet stationmaster or even Fleur, but the truth was good intentions were not enough. Her judgment wasn’t to be trusted. She was everything she tried so hard to convince her father that she wasn’t.
She heard Luc come to stand before her but didn’t lift her head. She wished she could sink through the ground. She was done making excuses. Done thinking she knew what was best for everyone else. Luc didn’t deserve the trouble she’d caused. Nobody did.
His boots creaked as he squatted down in front of her. “Pardonnez-moi, Juliette. I was frustrated. I shouldn’t have said such a thing.” His voice was low and gentle. “Please forgive me.”
“But you are right,” she said, her voice coming in gasps. “I’ve made a mess of everything.” She heard a bleat and looked up.
Luc held the baby goat. He set the animal down, holding on to its rope so it didn’t run away again.
She tried to smile, but her lip quivered. She shook her head. “You’re right. And my father is right. I always think I know what’s best. I think I can do things myself, but I can’t. That is why he insisted on a chaperone.”
Luc turned around to sit on the rock beside her. He tugged the goat along with him. “The poor Frau Maven you left asleep on the Orient Express while you got on the wrong train?” He bumped her arm softly with his as if sharing a joke and hoping she’d laugh.
“That is precisely why I needed a chaperone in the first place.” She wiped her wet cheeks with her fingers. “I took the wrong train, got off at the wrong station, disarranged the nursery, killed Fleur, and now here we are, in the rain with the wagon stuck in the mud, and three goats.” She waved a hand toward the wagon, where the mother goat and the other baby chewed on the umbrella. “Je suis incompétent,” she said. Frustration made her words come out as a whine. “I try to do things right, to help and make things better, but I just make it all worse. I ruin everything.”
“Not everything.” Luc offered his handkerchief.
It was wet, and between the rain and her tears, Julia didn’t think it would make much of a difference. But she took it, appreciating the thought anyway.
“You don’t ruin everything,” Luc continued. “I haven’t seen Gabi so happy for a long time.”
“I only straightened her kitchen,” Julia said.
“And it made all the difference.” The goat was pulling on the rope. Luc gave it a tug to bring the animal close. “You saved a goat family from separation,” he continued. “And planted the olive seedlings for me.”
“But—” Julia began to protest but stopped when Luc held up a hand.
“Not to mention, I quite enjoyed your train-station cake.”
She gave a small laugh, appreciating that he was attempting to make her feel better. “I need to remember that I don’t always know what’s best for everyone,” she said, turning around the folded handkerchief in her hands. “I just want so badly to help, but—”
“That is something you must never apologize for,” Luc said. He stretched his legs out in front of him and sat quietly, giving her time to compose herself.
Julia considered what he said. The words were simple, and perhaps the warmth in her chest had more to do with the man who said them. She sighed, resting her cheek on her hand. It had been years since she’d cried so hard, and it had made her tired. “What do we do now?” she asked. The problem had not gone away. They were both soaking wet, Luc was covered in mud, and the wagon was still stuck.
