Pierre and Luc chatted about vines and olives, and Sylvie fed the baby.
Élise’s eyes grew tired, and she laid down her head on her father’s lap.
Luc took her notebook, holding it on his lap. He sketched as he and Pierre talked.
Julia joined in on the conversation a few times but for the most part was content to listen.
After a while, Sylvie put the baby and Élise to bed. She brought blankets and pillows for Julia and Luc.
Pierre brought a lantern. “Moon’s bright, but the loft, it will be dark,” he explained.
Julia yawned.
“Thank you again for your hospitality,” Luc said. He put away the pencil and gave the notebook to Sylvie.
She glanced at the page he’d been sketching on, then looked again and gasped, pressing her palm to her chest. “Oh, mes bébés.” She turned the book around, showing a realistic sketch of Élise and Adrien. The children were beautiful.
“It is splendid,” Pierre said. He patted Luc on the shoulder. “The perfect gift. Merci, Luc.”
“They are such angels.” Sylvie took the scissors from her mending basket and carefully slit the page, removing it from the notebook. She set the picture carefully on the mantel and stepped back, clasping her hands. “I shall find a frame for it. This drawing, it is such a treasure when babies grow so quickly. I cannot thank you enough.”
Luc looked self-conscious at the praise. “You’re welcome.”
“We can’t thank you enough,” Julia said. “I don’t know what we would have done . . .”
“Think nothing of it.” Sylvie swatted her hand through the air in a motion that reminded Julia of Gabi. “Now, the two of you sleep well, and we will see you for breakfast.”
Julia glanced at Luc. He was gathering the pillows and blankets.
She picked up the lantern, and the two bid the Deschamps good night and walked into the cool night, following the path toward the barn.
Chapter Fourteen
Luc tucked the pillows and blankets under his arms, freeing his hands to push open one of the large barn doors. He stepped aside, motioning with a tip of his head for Julia to enter.
The inside of the building was dark. Julia held up the lantern and stepped inside, illuminating a vast, open space. She could smell the horses but couldn’t see the animals in the shadows.
“Pierre told me they plan to establish their own winery one day,” Luc said. His voice echoed off the rock floors and high ceiling.
“I hope they do.” Julia glanced upward, as if she might see the loft.
“Until then, they’ve an enormous empty barn for just one horse. This way.” Luc started toward the far end of the building. “Above the horse stalls.” They crossed the room. The Deschamps’ horse and Luc’s nickered in the shadows as they neared. They came to a ladder near the wall, and Luc motioned upward with his chin. “Up there.”
Julia nodded. She raised the lantern, trying to see what was at the top of the ladder, but above her was only darkness. She put a hand on a ladder rung, and then a foot. But she stepped back, hesitating. She wasn’t certain she could climb up while she was holding the lantern, not if she was to keep the long skirt out of the way. And what would she find when she reached the top? “Will you go first, Luc?”
He bundled the blankets and pillows into one arm and climbed up quickly using the other hand. He left the bedding, and then he returned part of the way back down, holding out his hand for the lantern.
Julia gave it to him, and he held it above her so she could see as she climbed. The wood of the rungs was rough, and her boots slipped a few times. She climbed slowly, making certain to step carefully and not to catch the skirts under her boots. When she reached the top, Luc took her hand, and she stepped onto the floor of the loft.
“Watch your head,” Luc said.
Julia ducked down, noticing the thick beams that ran along the ceiling. She imagined it would be quite easy to smack one’s head, especially in the darkness.
He led her to the center of the loft, where the sloping roof was higher.
The space was larger than she’d assumed, stretching back to the wall at least fifteen feet. When she took stock of her surroundings, Julia froze. “Oh. I didn’t realize . . .” The loft was not a guest room at all. There were no beds, not even a mattress. Piles of hay covered most of the floor, and a pitchfork stuck out of one. “Surely we’re not meant to . . .” Her words died when she saw Luc’s grimace.
“I apologize, Juliette.” He set the lantern down on the floor and removed his hat, looking around the space. The uncomfortable expression returned, pulling his brows together and making his eyes tight. “I didn’t intend for . . . I know a fine lady is not used to . . .” He let out a sigh, rubbing his hands over his face. “You have probably never even been in a barn, let alone slept in one.”
Julia tried to remember whether or not she’d in fact had reason to go inside such a place. She felt a tinge of disappointment that she could not come up with an instance to prove him wrong. “Have you?”
“Eh, oui. Now and then.” He shrugged. “We do not have roadside inns or towns every few miles in Provence.”
Perhaps his unease over the situation was not for the reasons she’d assumed. She glanced around for somewhere to sit, but with no options in sight, she remained standing, clasping her hands in front of her. “This seems a particularly nice barn. Though, you’re right. I haven’t many examples with which to compare it.”
Luc looked to the side, and she again suspected the discomfort she’d seen earlier may not be directed at her after all. A bit of her heaviness lifted.
“Is this what’s been bothering you?” she asked. “That the amenities here would not meet with my approval?” Seeing his grimace, she knew she’d hit upon it exactly. In spite of the hay-covered floor and the smell of horses, she felt an enormous relief.
“Oui.” His voice was low. He folded his arms and shook his head. “I am to blame for all of this. If I’d controlled the wagon . . . And I shouldn’t have insisted we misrepresent our relationship. You should not have to sleep in such a place, Juliette.” He looked toward the ladder. “If I confess the truth to the Deschamps, ask if you might sleep inside, perhaps on the sofa—”
Julia touched his arm, and his words stopped. “The wagon was not your fault. You let the reins go to catch me. The goats were everywhere, the rain and mud . . . You cannot blame yourself for any of that. Besides, we wouldn’t have been in this circumstance in the first place had I not tied poor Fleur to that tree.” She leaned her head to the side to catch his gaze. “As for the deception, your reasoning for it was sound.” She nodded to hopefully reassure him, then stepped back, looking around the space with a changed attitude.
She was determined not to let him see her apprehension about the sleeping quarters. “Anyway, it is just one night. I am not made of glass, Luc Paquet. This loft is entirely suitable.” She picked up a blanket and shook out the folds. “Now . . .” She looked around, trying to decide where to put it. She was not certain of how to go about preparing a bed on the hay piles. Did she just make a nest and curl up inside?
Luc’s worries seemed to ease. He tossed his hat onto the hay. He took the blanket from her and held it over his arm while he bunched up one of the piles and then laid the blanket over it, making the hay into a sort of mattress. He handed her a pillow and another of the blankets, keeping the last for himself.
“I’ll stay on that side of the loft,” he said, pointing toward the shadows near the ladder.
“Merci,” Julia said. She sat on the makeshift bed but wasn’t ready to sleep yet. Outside of the circle of light made by the lantern, the loft was dark, and talking to Luc kept her mind from wandering into the realm of imaginary fears. She pulled the other blanket around her shoulders and yawned. “I forgot to check on the goats. I hope they are all right sleeping in a new place. I
don’t want them to be frightened. It is very dark out there. And they aren’t familiar with this place.”
Luc sat on the floor on the other side of the lantern, stretching out his legs in front of him. “They have each other.” His eyes met hers. “And Honey will watch over the little ones. She won’t let anything frighten them.”
Julia blushed. He had discerned her worries perfectly. She was not only concerned about the goats.
“Pierre and I gave them food and water while we were at the pen with Élise,” Luc said.
“Thank you for taking care of them.” She looked down, picking up a piece of straw and pulling it apart. “And of me.” She spoke the last words quietly, feeling shy, especially in the privacy of their shared space. But she did want him to know she appreciated him. If not for Luc, she didn’t know what would have happened to her at the train station in Rivulet. Would she still be there waiting for the train? Or would someone else have come along by now? The idea of a stranger finding her gave her a chill of fear. But hadn’t Luc been a stranger when she’d gotten into his wagon? Thinking of him like that felt wrong to her. There were few people she trusted as much as him.
Luc rested on one elbow. His expression was soft as he watched her.
Julia was glad no unease remained between them. She tossed aside the piece of straw and shifted around, pulling her legs to the side and leaning on one hand. The hay squeaked beneath the blanket when she moved. She yawned, but she didn’t want Luc to think she was sleepy and leave, so she kept talking.
“The moon is bright, so at least they needn’t fear the dark.”
Luc squinted for just an instant. “Oh. Oui, the goats. They will be perfectly safe.”
She nodded, resting down on her elbow and hugging the pillow with her other arm. It was lumpy and round like an old sofa cushion. “The first night I slept away at finishing school, I was so scared to oversleep and be punished for it that I stayed awake all night. The next day, I was punished anyway, for falling asleep in my etiquette class.”
Luc chuckled. “How old were you?”
“Twelve,” she said. “Young but not too young to miss supper, apparently.”
“Is that why you carry two timepieces?”
Julia considered. She hadn’t ever connected that particular incident with her preoccupation with timeliness. “It is likely part of the reason. I do worry about being late. About disappointing people who are counting on me.” Her head felt heavy, and her eyes. She slid the pillow beneath her head and laid her cheek down on it. “Sometimes I think that is all I ever do. Disappoint everyone.”
“You are too hard on yourself,” Luc said. “Too worried about pleasing others.”
“It makes me glad to please others,” she said. She could hardly keep her eyes open. “Don’t you feel that way when you’ve made a person happy?”
“Of course,” Luc said.
“And the opposite when you’ve let them down?”
Luc didn’t answer.
Julia forced open her eyes, fearing what his silence might mean. “You haven’t let me down, Luc. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She nestled down into the pillow, closing her eyes again and pulling the blanket tighter around herself. She could hear that her words were slurred but wanted to make certain she told him what she was thinking. “You’ve made everything so much better.”
***
Julia didn’t remember falling asleep, but she awoke with a shock. She lay in the darkness, heart pounding as she tried to reassure herself that she was safe. After all, Luc was just on the other side of the room. But where was that? She was disoriented, with absolutely no sense of direction, and didn’t dare move far lest she fall off the edge of the loft. And could she even be sure that Luc was still here? She listened, hoping to hear his breathing, but instead, she heard a rustling in the hay beneath her pillow.
“Luc!” She bolted upright, panic making her thoughts race. The darkness was suffocating. Was there no window in this barn? “Luc, where are you?” She twisted around, searching for—
“I’m here.” Luc’s arms went around her.
She grabbed on to him. “Luc, I think I heard a mouse in the hay. What if it climbs on me? It might crawl into my hair. Do mice live in barns?”
“No,” he said after a pause. “Cats catch them all.”
She sighed, relieved, and felt suddenly weary. “I didn’t see any cats,” she said.
“They hide. You should sleep,” Luc said. “Or you might fall asleep during etiquette class tomorrow.”
Julia smiled at his attempt at humor, even though she knew he couldn’t see it in the dark. She released her grip on him and lay back down on the pillow. But just as soon as she did, another thought jerked her awake. “What about scorpions?”
“The cats get them too,” he said.
“Does Sylvie know to put lavender in the windowsills?” she asked.
“Of course she does.” Luc shifted. “There is nothing to worry about.”Julia could hear that he was moving away, and her fear came back full force. “Luc?”
“Oui, Juliette?”
Her heartbeat sped up again. “I know this is exceedingly improper . . .”
He was still in the darkness.
“Will you hold my hand? Just until I fall back asleep?” She felt silly for even saying it. But the thought of him leaving her alone was more frightening than the embarrassment of asking the question.
“Bien sûr que oui.” His voice was gentle.
Julia reached toward him, finding his hand, and her worries immediately calmed. His hand was warm and strong, and she held on, knowing that no matter what dangers might lurk in the darkness, Luc was there; he would keep her safe. And he wouldn’t let anything crawl into her hair.
Chapter Fifteen
Julia sat up on the blanket of her hay bed. She’d slept soundly, and the groggy feeling that accompanied a deep sleep lingered. The hay felt warm beneath her, and she let the blanket fall from her shoulders.
“Ah, you are awake at last,” Luc said. His head popped up over the edge of the loft.
She rubbed her eyes, squinting as her vision adjusted in the dim light coming from the few windows in the barn. “Good morning, Luc.”
He climbed up from the ladder and crossed the loft, already dressed in his own clothes. When he reached her, he knelt on one knee, resting an arm on the other. “Did you sleep well?”
“Oui.” She blushed, remembering the way she’d clung to him, panicked, in the middle of the night. “Thank you.” Julia blinked and rubbed her eyes again. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned, moving a hand in front of her mouth.
“You’ve some hay in your hair,” Luc said. He slid toward her and pulled out a piece from behind her ear.
“Merc—”
Luc’s hand cupped her cheek, and his lips covered hers. He pulled away, standing so quickly that Julia’s thoughts scarcely had time to catch up.
Luc kissed me.
Fluttering erupted inside her chest, and she gasped at the intensity. She looked up at him, now fully awake and trying to understand what had happened.
“Excusez-moi, Juliette. I didn’t mean . . .”
Julia touched her lips.
“You just looked so . . . I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken such a liberty.” Luc started back toward the ladder.
“Oh.” She felt like a simpleton but could not do anything but blink as her mind reeled. Luc kissed me!
He turned around and started down the ladder. “Sylvie has breakfast for you in the house. The wagon is ready whenever you are.”
Julia sat for a long moment. She wrapped her arms around herself as if to contain the feelings that were trying to burst free. His hand in the night, his arms around her, and now his kiss. Was this how love felt? Everything inside her raced, her pulse was strong and fast, her limbs felt sh
aky, and her thoughts were scattered. But still she sat, trying to hold on to the feeling. Trying to understand it.
After a moment, she stood, brushing off the borrowed dress and folding the blankets. Her lips were hot, still feeling the aftereffects of Luc’s kiss. And she couldn’t stop her smile. All in all, it was rather a nice way to wake up.
When Julia entered the house, Élise ran to her. “You are awake at last.”
“Good morning, Élise.” Julia put the blankets and pillow on the sofa.
“Luc drew our pictures.” She pointed to the drawings on the mantel. “Did you see?”
Julia nodded, again admiring the drawings. She could see why Élise and her mother were so pleased with them. They were exquisite.
“Mamá will put them into a frame,” Élise said.
“Did you sleep well?” Sylvie came from a bedroom, holding the baby on her hip.
“Oui. The loft was very comfortable. Merci.”
“C’est romantique, non?”
Luc’s kiss came back in a rush of memory, and Julia drew in a breath. “Oui.”
Sylvie gave her a knowing smile and a wink.
Élise took Julia’s hand and led her to the table, indicating for her to sit. “You have not had breakfast.”
Julia ate a simple breakfast of bread and cheese and coffee. She changed back into the clothes she’d borrowed from Gabi, returned the scarf to her hair, and put on her timepieces. When it was time to leave, her eyes burned. She swallowed, feeling unexpectedly sad at having to say goodbye to her new friends.
Sylvie kissed both of her cheeks. “I hope to see you again, Julia, my friend. Perhaps we will one day visit Rivulet.”
“I hope you do,” Julia said before she realized that if they did, she wouldn’t be there. At this thought, her tears broke through.
She wiped them away, kissing Adrien’s fat cheeks and embracing Élise.
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