Fetching Charlotte Rose (8 page)

Charlotte let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She would use her savings to buy food, and two weeks later when she received her next paycheck, she would pay rent. Max never need know about her foolish mistake. It was a good plan, and she couldn’t find fault in it; that is, until the day it shattered into pieces and led to the scariest moment of her life.

* * *

Charlotte’s bare feet sprinted along the dirt path, lit only by a sliver of a moon. She inhaled loudly to fill her strangled lungs, bereft of oxygen from exertion and terror. The sounds of her breathing didn’t drown out the pounding steps that fell heavily and grew louder as they gained distance behind her. She heard a shriek exit her lips as her feet tripped over her long skirt. She scrambled in a panic to find her balance, realizing that a fall would give her pursuer all the time he needed to catch up. She gathered the calico material into both of her fists and surged ahead, adrenaline masking any pain from the bruises and cuts forming on the bottom of her feet.

She could see Max’s house in the distance and the soft glow of a lamp behind the window. He was awake. All she needed to do was get to him in time. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else had ever been so important. She tried to yell his name, but it came out as a harsh whisper to no one’s ears but her own.

Time passed in a sudden flash. She found herself in a heap at Max’s doorstep, hitting the bottom part of door in front of her with her palm and looking over her shoulder for the first time. She didn’t see her pursuer. The door swung open, causing her upper body, which was leaning into it, to spill forward into the cabin. Max appeared in front of her, and his presence brought forth the sobs hovering just below her throat.

“Charlie!” he exclaimed. He bent and grasped her arms, hauling her the rest of the way inside.

Max looked around outside briefly before he closed the door and locked it.

“Oh, Max,” she cried when he swept her into his arms off the floor.

“What happened?” He carried her to the sofa and set her down. His brow creased into a million worried lines as he examined her. “Why aren’t you wearing shoes? You’re bleeding!”

“I-I had to run. I didn’t have time… He was trying to…” Charlotte couldn’t spit out a sentence. She still gasped for air.

“Never mind. Hush. Don’t try to speak until you’ve calmed down. My God, you’re trembling all over. Take a deep breath, honey, and let it out slowly. You’re going to be just fine.”

Charlotte sucked in a shaky breath and let it out slowly as instructed.

“Good girl. Breathe like that again and keep on doing it.”

Charlotte focused on her breathing as Max cleaned the cuts on the bottom of her feet with a wet rag. Tim walked out from his bedroom. He stared at her in horror. “Miss Rose, are you all right?”

Charlotte nodded. She sobbed with relief as the terror receded. She had made it to Max. She would live.

“Find her a handkerchief, Tim. And find a quilt too.”

Max finished cleaning her bruised and bloodied feet and set the rag aside. Charlotte blew her nose using the handkerchief Tim provided while Max placed the quilt on the sofa. He lifted Charlotte into it and folded it around her snugly. Sitting next to her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. He kissed her forehead and said with a modicum of humor, “Which would you prefer, darlin’, tea or whiskey?”

Charlotte could tell Max was trying to help her feel better by lightening the mood, though his voice still sounded worried. “Tea,” she whimpered.

“Aren’t you a good girl?” He gave her an affectionate squeeze and another kiss. He glanced at Tim, who was standing by the sofa with the same scared expression he’d been wearing since first seeing her. “Tim, would you mind brewing some tea for Charlotte? But bring whiskey for me, and for you too if you like. Looks like you could use some.”

Tim nodded and walked to the kitchen. Charlotte’s tears stopped falling and her heartbeat slowed as Max stroked her arms and back and brushed the hair away from her wet face.

“So, sweetheart, who do I need to kill for causing you such distress?”

Charlotte wiped the tears on her cheek with the backs of her hands. She met his eyes. “Me.”

Max lifted an eyebrow. “You? Well, I don’t know that I want to kill you just yet, but it sounds like someone’s going to get a smacked bottom after a good night’s sleep. No one scares my girl like this without getting punished, not even you.” He smiled at her.

Charlotte returned a wan smile before sobering with the realization that she’d have to tell him what led her to his doorstep. She gazed into his eyes dolefully. “Max, tomorrow I was going to tell you why I’m no longer living at the boardinghouse, but then I was forced to run here before I could.”

He frowned. “What do you mean? I don’t understand. Where are you living, if not at the boardinghouse?”

“Nowhere as of today, but I planned to sleep at the schoolhouse tonight.”

Max continued to frown at her, looking very perplexed and worried.

She sighed and said wearily, “Can I tell you what happened tomorrow? I don’t feel I have the strength to tell you tonight.”

The muscles in Max’s face relaxed a bit. “Of course, honey. I think that’s a good idea. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Tim returned and handed Charlotte her tea and Max a shot of whiskey. Max drank it, then said, “After your tea, Charlotte, you’re going to bed. I’ll sleep here on the sofa.”

Charlotte nodded. She thanked Tim for the tea and took a sip. It felt like warm comfort gliding down her throat and heating her stomach, and it helped to settle her nerves. Charlotte basked in the comfort of Max’s embrace and blushed when she became aware for the first time that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She studied his chest. It was lighter in hue than his forearms and face, and curly brown hair wisped thinly around his nipples. She found herself wanting to touch him and stroke the hair on his chest down to his flat abs. Her eyes traveled south to his trousers and she studied the area that covered his manhood. She’d never seen a man’s member, and she found herself feeling very curious about what his looked like beneath the fabric. Her eyes traveled back up his chest and then to his face, where she found his eyes fixed on her and an eyebrow raised.

“What in the tarnation are you staring at, Charlie? You’re eyeing me like you’ve never see a man without a shirt before.”

Charlotte blushed harder. “I don’t know that I have.”

“Well, it’s nothing impressive, and I think you’ve had a good enough gawk for now. Let’s get you into bed, why don’t we?”

“All right, Max.” Charlotte took a final sip and set her teacup on the table next to the sofa. She winced upon standing on her bruised feet.

Max noticed and grabbed her into his arms. He strode to his bedroom. “Blasted woman. What am I going to do with you? You can’t even walk.”

She let out a moan. “And tomorrow I won’t be able to sit,” she said mournfully.

“Damn straight.” Max placed her on the bed gently. He bent and planted a chaste kiss on her lips, which sent her stomach aflutter. “Rest up, darlin’. You’re safe, and everything else will be made right as rain tomorrow.”

He straightened and turned to leave, but Charlotte grasped his hand. “Max, will you sleep here with me tonight? I know it’s improper, but I don’t want you to stop holding me. It comforts me, and I still feel frightened.”

Max stared at her for a moment with a conflicted expression, then climbed into bed behind her. He pulled her into his arms. “I don’t know how on earth I could say no to that, sweetheart.” He kissed the shell of her ear and then her neck, which sent a shiver of delight down her spine. Charlotte snuggled her back into his chest. She shoved her bottom into his crotch and squirmed to get comfortable, not realizing her doing so would elicit a growl from the man holding her.

“None of that, Charlie, unless you want that smacked bottom tonight.” He added some space between their lower bodies.

“Maybe I do,” she said with a giggle, believing in that moment that any way Max placed his hands on her body would suit her just fine.

“Go to sleep,” he ordered in a serious voice.

Charlotte sighed, feeling both comfortable and unsatisfied. She fell asleep in Max’s arms, and the morning came much too soon. She awoke to an empty bed and the sounds of Max and Tim talking in the other room. After crossing the bedroom slowly to not cause pain to her feet, she looked in the small mirror over the dresser and smoothed her hair down as best she could. She did the same for her dress. Using the pitcher and basin on the dresser, she washed her face and drank some water before exiting the bedroom and meeting Max and Tim in the kitchen.

The mood in the room was tense, and Max and Tim ceased speaking upon her arrival. Neither was sitting at the table but instead standing next to the counter. Bacon sizzled in a pan, and the smell of it along with eggs and toast filled her nose, making her realize how hungry she was. She hadn’t eaten since the previous morning. Max looked somber when he regarded her. “Come have some breakfast, Charlotte,” he said, his voice stern.

She walked to the table gingerly and sat down. Max fixed her a plate of food in silence, then set it in front of her. Charlotte whispered her thanks and took a bite of the scrambled eggs.

Tim appeared subdued and had a guilty expression on his face. “Feeling all right, Miss Rose?” he asked.

“Much better this morning. Thanks, Tim.” She bit into a piece of bacon.

“How are your feet?” Max asked.

“Not bad. I can walk without pain if I don’t step too hard.”

Max nodded once to indicate that the news was to his liking.

Tim cleared his throat. “I’ll be going to the shop now.” His shoulders slumped as he walked to the door. He retrieved his Stetson from the hat rack and looked back at Max, who was observing his exit with a frown. “I’m sorry, Max, for not telling you sooner. I wanted to be the one to solve my own problems.”

Max was sharp in his response. “Your problems are my problems. I’m very disappointed you think otherwise. We’ll discuss it more later.”

Tim nodded sadly. He walked out and closed the door. Max remained in the same place for a moment staring at the door before he sat at the table with a mug of freshly brewed coffee.

Max’s ill temper made Charlotte nervous. “I gather he told you about the scholarship situation?” She bit into her toast, not tasting a thing.

“Yes, and I’m not pleased with him, or with you, young lady, for knowing about it and not telling me. I don’t appreciate secrets being kept from me, especially when they involve the safety of people I care about. Tim seems to think Simon might’ve had something to do with whatever happened to you last night, which is why he chose to tell me now. Is that the case?”

Charlotte kept her eyes on her plate. “I’m afraid so, and I’m afraid you’ll be even more displeased with me upon learning what happened. I’m worried about telling you, Max.”

Max took a drink of his coffee. She felt his stern gaze on her face. “Sounds as though you should be worried, Charlotte, but you’d better come clean. I expect to hear the entire truth, and I’m warning you, it would be unwise to do otherwise.”

She nodded, then ate another piece of bacon slowly, gathering up her courage while she chewed. Finally she swallowed and explained what brought her to his doorstep.

* * *

Charlotte sat at her desk in the schoolhouse late on Friday afternoon, her carpetbag of belongings beside her. She racked her brain to come up with a solution to what had just happened. She’d miscounted, and the rent had been due to the landlady that day, three days before her second paycheck was due to arrive. Since she’d given all of her first paycheck to Max, she couldn’t pay it. No amount of bargaining or explaining would move the woman to wait for the money. The landlady informed her that she had a waiting list of people who wanted to rent a room in her establishment, and she’d only selected the schoolmarm as a boarder under the assumption that someone with her education would be responsible.

A tear slid down Charlotte’s face as she remembered the rebuke and the slam of the door behind her as she was evicted. She’d looked back once to find Simon Evans peering at her through his window on the second floor, a smirk on his face, which he couldn’t remove in time for her not to see. She wondered how soon the news would travel around town, eventually reaching Max’s ears. She felt a knot in her stomach at the thought. It would be better if he heard it from her. She knew this, but she didn’t know if she could bring herself to tell him right away.

She buried her head in her arms on the desk until a noise at the door startled her out of her sad thoughts. She lifted her head and took in a sharp breath when Simon Evans strode through. He headed straight for her. She immediately felt like she was in danger, and she searched her mind for a reason to steady her beating heart and settle her panic. It was broad daylight in the middle of town. Surely the man wouldn’t risk being caught in the act of harming her.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he said.

She stood. “Hello, Mr. Evans. I noticed that you witnessed my eviction from the boardinghouse.”

He stopped in front of her desk and ran his long, bony fingers along the smooth wood. Laughing, he said, “Yes, I couldn’t help but notice. I imagine many people did. Have you told your beau yet?”

She hesitated, then lied. “Yes, he is meeting me here. In fact he should be here any minute.”

“That’s interesting,” he responded cheerfully. “I just saw him and he mentioned he was headed to the jailhouse to deliver some shackles to the marshal.”

“Well, yes,” she stammered. “He’s coming here after that, of course.”

Simon laughed again. “Of course. Well, my dear. I only stopped by to give you some information that might be helpful. There’s a room for rent just outside of town. The fee is lower, if that’s what your problem is.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte said, feeling her heartbeat slow to a regular level. “Where is it?”

“Just head west along the main path. It’s about a mile out. Nice little green cottage. White picket fence. You can’t miss it.” He turned to leave. Before he reached the door he looked back. “Good day, Miss Rose. I wish you better luck at your next dwelling.” With that, he walked out, closing the door softly behind him.