Sean Donovan (The Californians, Book 3) (12 page)

"Charlie tells me you want a bath."

"Only if it's no trouble," Sean said, his voice still soft.

Sadie couldn't believe her ears. She looked at Charlie,
only to see that she was not the least bit surprised by her
husband's considerate attitude.

"You don't act like a bank robber," Sadie blurted
unthinkingly.

Sean glanced at Charlie. "So I've been told."

"Well, enough small talk." All at once Sadie became
very brisk. "The big tub is in the pantry. You can drag it
out here and I'll fill it for you."

"Do you suppose I could get something of Uncle
Harry's from upstairs?"

"Sure, look in that trunk at the end of my bed." Sadie's
gaze traveled over Sean's back as he hefted the tub in his arms. "There won't be anything to fit him, but at least
he'll be covered while his clothes get washed."

Sean let his body sink as far down into the tub as the
sides would allow. The water had been almost too hot to
touch when he'd first lowered himself in, but now it was
just right, and Sean wished he could lay there all night.

He'd lathered up already and now his head rested on
the rim of the tub. His knees were in the air. He let his
eyes slide shut. It was then he heard the voices.

"I can't do that."

"Sure you can," came Sadie's kind voice. "I know
things aren't like that between you, but he is your husband. Now just take these clothes to him and get his
dirty ones."

"Can't you do it?"

Sean didn't hear the reply, but it must have been
negative, for a few seconds later his wife entered the
room. Sean had to force himself not to cover up, since he
believed it would only make an embarrassing situation
worse. Charlie, he noticed, was careful not to look anywhere but the floor, even when she addressed him.

"Here's a shirt and some pants that belonged to Sadie's late husband. I'll wash your other stuff when we get
home."

"Thank you."

The soft, deep voice was enough to finally raise Charlie's eyes to her husband's, and she stared for a moment
in fascination at the blush that covered his cheeks.

"When you're done, we'll go." The words were nearly
stuttered in her haste, and Charlie exited the room just
as swiftly.

Sean immediately reached for the length of toweling
that Sadie had left, and then forced himself into the
pants Charlie had brought him.

He emptied the tub outside. The opening and closing
of the back door must have signaled the two women, for
just as soon as Sean had his shoes on, Sadie and Charlie
returned.

They both came to a complete stop just inside the
kitchen door and stared at Sean. The borrowed pants
were too tight and stopped two inches above his ankles.
He hadn't buttoned the front of the shirt because the
fabric wouldn't meet over his chest. The seams on the
arms and shoulders were stretched to capacity. The
women could only stare.

"Thank you for the bath," Sean finally said, breaking
the uncomfortable silence. "And for the loan of the
clothes."

Again Sadie looked at her niece. Her eyes seemed to be
asking if this man was real or merely imagined.

Sean was relieved when Charlie moved toward the
door. "Goodnight, Sadie, and thanks."

Sean nodded to the older woman and followed his
wife. As soon as they reached the house, Charlie set to
work washing her husband's clothes. He stood for a
moment in indecision and Charlie, who read the fatigue
in his eyes, sent him to bed.

"It'll be a while before you're accustomed to the work,
so you'd better get all the rest you can."

"Thank you, Charlotte, and goodnight."

Charlie didn't reply, but she did move away from the
wash basin to watch him as he moved down the hall and
closed his bedroom door behind him.

Sean wrapped a sheet around his waist the next
morning and went in search of his clothes. The kitchen
was empty, and there was no sign of his few belongings.

He had just headed back down the hall and knocked
on Charlie's bedroom door when he heard her come in
from outside. He retraced his steps to the kitchen and
saw that she held his clothes in her arms.

"They dried on the line overnight," Charlie explained
as she handed the clothes to Sean and tried not to look at
his bare chest. It wasn't that she hadn't seen well-built
men without their shirts; after all a livery had to have a
blacksmith, but Sean was different.

Breakfast was plentiful on this morning, and Sean ate
his fill. Charlie was cleaning up the plates when she
spoke to Sean without turning toward him.

"We need to head to the general store first thing this
morning so you can buy some clothes."

Sean hated to admit it, but wasted no time in doing so.
"I have no money."

"I understand that," the redhead continued to talk
with her back to him. "When Duncan was here yesterday he pointed out to me that I need to buy you a few
things."

Sean said nothing; he couldn't get the words past the
lump that suddenly rose in his throat. Duncan was the
only person who felt real to him, and knowing that he
was still thinking of him and cared enough to see to his
needs was almost more than Sean could take.

Twenty minutes later they walked up the street together. The signs of a town coming to life were all around
them. Doors were being opened and awnings raised.
Sean had no idea where the store was; he simply followed his wife's lead. She suddenly stopped in front of
the barbershop.

"Would you like a haircut?"

Sean's hand moved self-consciously to the shaggy hair
at the back of his head. Before he could answer, Charlie
held out a few coins to him.

"I'll go ahead to the store and find you some clothes.
It's just three doors down. If you finish first, come down
and find me."

For some reason Sean was hesitant to let her go, but
she turned and moved confidently down the street, so
he entered the near-empty shop.

There was a man in the chair who had been talking
calmly until Sean stepped across the threshold. His face
registered shock and then fear as soon as Sean took a
chair against the wall.

Sean tried to ignore the man's stare, but his shame was
so great that he didn't know where to look or if he should
say something. It was a relief a few minutes later when
the man left.

Sean stood when the barber swiveled the chair in his
direction. For the first time he noticed the man showed
none of the apprehension that his customer had displayed.

"Shave and a haircut?" He inquired solicitously.

Sean glanced at the coins in his hands. "Just a haircut,
thanks."

As the sheet was draped around him Sean raised his
chin. The chair was swiveled to face the mirror, and the
barber began to snip.

"I think you got a lousy deal." The softly spoken
words were such a surprise to Sean that he didn't immediately answer. The barber met his eyes in the mirror
with such understanding that Sean relaxed.

"I had no business being in the bank in the middle of
the night. It's a miracle I'm alive."

The barber smiled. "You're just like Duncan said you
were. Did you want a shave and can't afford it, or do you
prefer the beard?"

"I'm usually clean-shaven."

"Well then, since my sister, who happens to be married to Duncan, thinks you've got wonderful potential,
the shave will be on the house."

"Your sister?"

"I believe she brought you a couple of meals while you
were still in jail."

Sean remembered her then. She reminded him of his
Aunt Maureen in San Francisco. She'd brought breakfast
the morning after he had been arrested. Sean now saw
the family resemblance in his barber. They were both
round with graying hair and had full faces that brimmed
with good health.

Sean's face was covered with lather before he could
even say thank you, and within the space of about five
minutes he was staring at a face he hadn't seen in months.
He looked 17 again. What would Charlotte say?

He'd know soon enough since the barber was brushing
him off and seeing him to the door. Sean stepped out onto
the boardwalk. Replacing his cap, which fit differently without all the hair, Sean headed in the direction of the
general store.

Charlie held a shirt up in front of her and wondered
again if it was the right size. She had taken special note of
how big his clothes were when she'd washed them, but
now she felt uncertain. Preoccupied, it took a moment for
her to realize someone had come up to stand behind her.

Sean watched her glance his way and then turn back to
the shirt in her hands. An instant later her head whipped
back around, eyes locked on his face. He watched as she
took a hasty step backward, and quickly reached to steady
her as she would have fallen into a low barrel of peanuts.
He noted absently that his fingers met around her upper
arm.

'Are you all right?"

"Yes." Charlie hated how breathless she sounded. "You
just surprised me."

"I'm so A,
rrY

"It's all right; in fact, I'm glad you're here. You need to
tell me which of these will fit."

"There's no need to guess. Try it on," a man's voice
called from behind the counter. "I wouldn't be able to
resell it if people knew you'd taken it and brought it back."

The implication was not lost on either of them. Charlie's temper immediately flared, but Sean simply scooped
up several shirts and headed into a small curtained
room.

"How dare you talk to him like that, Pete!"

"It's the truth, Charlie, and you know it. He's a criminal and people are going to be wary."

"Well, he's never stolen a thing from your store, so
there's no call to act like that. And another thing, he's my husband. I give a lot of business to this store, and if
you're not going to treat Sean fairly, I'll start going across
the street!"

Pete held his hands up in genuine contrition. "I'm
sorry, Charlie. I'm just thinking of my need to make a
living, and you know how it is in this town. Guilty or
not, in the eyes of the people he's no good."

Because he was right, Charlie softened. "I'm sorry I
snapped at you. Today we're in here to shop with honest
coins and just want to be treated fairly."

"Fair enough," Pete nodded in agreement and, although still somewhat agitated, showed Charlie one of
his new catalogs.