The smile on Rhett's face grew as he saw the flush in her cheeks, and he had to fight it from spreading even wider when she corrected him on his mistake of assuming she had been as ignorant as himself. 'Chocolate cherry', he repeated the words in his head. For some reason those words just etched themselves into his memory like a chisel striking stone, and for the life of him he didn't know why. Once he realized that no handshake was forthcoming, he withdrew his own and tucked the index finger of that hand into his pocket, resting it there. A little color was rising in his own cheeks, and he too, was feeling a little embarrassed. Between this and getting his guts kicked out by a mule, he'd pick the mule.

In Rhett's line of work, you had to know how to read a face for even the most subtle of hints. So, when she became a little flustered, he caught it. “Beggin' your pardon, Ms. Chevalier. I hope I haven't upset you none. I was just lookin' to pass a few friendly words, is all. I hope I ain't gone and offended you somehow.” He brought his hat up between both hands, and thumbed the brim of it idly. “I'd love your help, and I tell you what, how 'bout I buy your ice cream to make up for it? That Pumpkin Patch Crunch looks mighty fine.” He said, knowing that he would have rather hexed himself directly in the head, than to say the words 'pumpkin patch crunch' aloud, and silently vowed to do so if he ever uttered them again. But the color in her cheeks made him feel compelled to do something to make amends.

She had been polite as anything, but she seemed the sort to be polite, regardless of circumstances. He too, had noticed the size difference between them, and he felt keenly aware of it just then. Rhett was unsure if he should step back or not, concerned that he was invading her space or making her feel cornered or pressed. He was a man with a wand arm quicker than a rattlesnake, and yet this small woman, in an ice cream parlor of all places, had momentarily disarmed him of his surety. Slowly, one boot moved backward a couple of inches, followed by the other. He hoped the movement went unnoticed, at least consciously. He could not be more out of his element.

The girl behind the counter heard his words and immediately recognized an easy customer. Before he could even get Tabitha's opinion, two sundae glasses were placed on the counter, each filled with Pumpkin Patch Crunch and topped with whipped cream. “Reckon I'm a bit of a fish out of water, if you catch my drift. Ain't got the hang of how things work 'round here just yet.” He felt like he was talking himself into a hole, but he didn't know how to stop digging. He paid the girl, tucked his hat beneath his arm, and turned to face Tabitha—holding a glass in each hand. “Say, I noticed a few tables out front, care to join me for a spell? Maybe polish off these 'seasonal offerings'? You could even go as far as to point out all the ways I'm being an idiot, if your feelin' generous. Course, you don't got to if you'd rather not, or if that breaks some rule I am currently unaware of. Wouldn't dream of pressurin' you none, Ms. Chevalier.” It was the only plan he had, which wasn't saying a lot at the moment.