Grace in Autumn by Lori Copeland Page A

leapt from the shadows of the mercantile’s deep front porch. Her shins encountered something soft, then Babette went flying forward, her elbows striking the cobblestones with a heavy scrape.
    For a moment she lay on the ground, terribly conscious of the fact that she must look ridiculous, then her eyes opened. Her fist still grasped the check—at least she hadn’t lost that along with her dignity.
    â€œGlory be, Babette, are you all right?”
    Elezar Smith, Vernie’s helper at the mercantile, came running out of the building, the storm door slamming behind him. Before reaching her, though, he stopped to examine a mass of white fur in the road. “Tallulah? You okay?”
    Babette made a wry face as she pushed herself up to a sitting position. Only in Heavenly Daze would a man be as concerned for the de Cuviers’ mutt as for a lady.
    Brushing a layer of sandy grit from her sweater, she called, “I’m fine, Elezar.” She winced as her fingers encountered a sore spot at her elbow. “Tallulah and I were on a collision course, that’s all.”
    â€œThat Tallulah can get under your feet, and don’t I know it.” The tall man knelt and ran his fingers over the old dog who lay on her side, four legs and a pink tongue extended. At the touch of the man’s fingers, Tallulah opened her button eyes and whimpered, then waved one forepaw in a helpless gesture.
    â€œMy goodness, I think the old girl might really be hurt.” Elezar’s walnut complexion took on a shade of concern. “Wonder if I should carry her over to see Dr. Marc?” He squatted in the road and crossed his arms, one finger over his lips as he considered the situation. “Olympia’s going to be mighty upset if Tallulah gets hurt right when Mr. Edmund’s doing so poorly. I don’t know if she could handle losing them both at once.”
    â€œLet’s not panic yet.” Babette groaned as she stood, then she bent with her hands on her knees and looked at the whimpering dog. Brightening her voice, she called, “Tallulah? Would you like to go inside and get a cruller?”
    As if by magic, the terrier lifted her head. The forepaw that had been waving helplessly only a moment before served her well enough now, and before Babette could straighten her aching muscles, the dog had righted herself and begun to prance toward Birdie’s Bakery, her plumed tail waving like a flag over her back. When Elezar and Babette didn’t immediately follow, she turned and looked at them, her mouth opening in a toothy doggie smile.
    Elezar removed his cap and scratched his head, grinning. “If that don’t beat all.”
    â€œI’ve seen this little actress do her injured act before,” Babette said, wincing again as she gently squeezed her sore elbow. “She’ll do anything for a cruller.”
    â€œI suspect I’d better keep our end of the bargain.” Elezar stood and moved toward the door. “I hope Birdie has some day-old doughnuts left for this little missy.”
    Leaving the spoiled dog and her friend, Babette turned and looked toward the sea. As she feared, the ferry had pulled away from the dock and was already plowing through the crushed diamond sea. Nothing she could do but go home and leave a message on Mr. Bedell’s answering machine.
    As she turned to go, she saw Elezar standing by the center post of Vernie’s front porch. He was watching her, a look of marked concern on his face.
    â€œYou must think me ill-mannered, tending to a dog before looking after a lady,” he said, his tone apologetic. “Truth is, you didn’t look much hurt.”
    Babette forced a smile. “I’m afraid the only thing hurt was my pride.”
    â€œSo everything’s fine with you and yours?”
    Babette opened her mouth, intending to give him a polite, reserved answer, but her true feelings spilled out in a rush. “Actually,