“How bad, Charlotte?” Those full lips pressed in a line, her little story doing nothing to ease his feelings on the matter.
“A few cheap shots to the ribs… nothing broken.” She put her hand over his. “See, I’m fine… just tired is all.”
“You don’t need me to tell you what you did was dangerous.” He pulled a little on the tips of her hair, reminding her of the fact she looked feminine now. “Let the police handle it.”
“And lose a reward?” Scoffing, she took his hand, watching his eyes storm. “Keep in mind, Matthew, if ordinary lawmen could take on a man like that, then bounty hunters wouldn’t exist in the first place. A few bruises are nothing, and a whole lot of people are much safer.” She understood his point, but he knew her better than that. “This is how I make my way.”
He looked over her body, eyes lingering on every telling curve. There was not a trace of a mark on her anywhere he could see. Her knuckles were free of bruises, her face unmarred. “You need to find another way.”
Charlie chuckled. “You looking for a waitress?”
“Yeah.” He tugged her hair a little again at the game. But he wasn’t joking.
Charlie patted his chest. “I have a better idea. Wanna give up your life of bootlegging and help me track down public enemies? We’d be one hell of a team.”
She was buttering him up good, using her tone and soft touch to distract from his temper. Somewhat mollified, Matthew’s hands went to the buttons of her dress, determined to see for himself what lie underneath. She let him pull the cotton to her waist followed by her slip, exposing a smattering of dark smears decorating her left side. Callused fingertips gently touched and the male made a deep throaty noise, fuming, knowing bruises that dark came from more than a few punches. The man had swung at her with something.
“See, it’s nothing, and I got more than even. I shot him in the knee. He won’t ever walk right again.”
Fixing her attire, he buttoned her up tight. “Prohibition is nearing an end. Got plans to build my own distillery—use local spring water, local grown corn, local workers. The site has already been scouted. I own the land. The figures add up. Once laws change and licensing comes through, I could have it up and running legal in a year.”
Charlie had always pegged Matthew as a man with a vision. “Emerson’s Finest Whiskey, hmm? I think I’d enjoy watching you try to live the straight and narrow. Besides, you are so damn bossy, imagining you as a foreman ain’t a stretch.”
“All right then.” Matthew gave her a long look promising a million things. “Let’s get you some supper.”
She trudged down the steps in his wake.
Once Nathaniel clamped eyes on her, he rushed forward to sweep her up, swinging her about until she was squealing.
“Well looky here,” Nathaniel chanted, setting her down and watching her wobble. “You think you’re dizzy now, just wait until you try this new batch of blackberry lightning. It will burn the sense right out of you.”
“That’s enough, Nathaniel,” Matthew barked. “Don’t be rough with her now.”
Ignoring Matthew, Charlie took the liquor and gave it a gulp, finding it pretty damn good. “Yup, there goes my sense.”
“It’s good to have you home,” Eli offered from behind the counter.
Smiling back at the boy, Charlie sauntered over to her usual seat.
There was no awkwardness, no unwelcome feeling. From the moment she’d seen Matthew waiting for her on the platform, everything had
just felt right. Then there was the food... A rich looking stew was simmering on the stove, her eyes glazing over just staring at it.
“I swear the way you look at chow,” Nathaniel chuckled, poking her in the shoulder. “It’s almost indecent, Charlie.”
She shot him a wry grin. “So, what have you boys been up to while I was gone?”
“Nothing much, it’s been quiet as a tomb these last few days.”
Putting her chin to her chest, Charlie cocked a brow. “Liar. I can see the shoddy stitches in your left knuckles.” Looking to Eli, she pointed out he was favoring his right leg. “So a brawl?”
“Naw,” Eli said with a shake of the head. “Just a little fun.”
“I bet.” She took another swig. “Who’d you kill?”
The way the boys both went just a little stiff, Charlie knew she’d hit the nail on the head. Looking at Nathaniel, she asked in a scandalous whisper, “He ain’t in the soup, is he?”
She could see he was trying with all his power not to laugh; it lasted all of about ten seconds before Nathaniel was bellowing. When Matthew came over, he found Eli red-faced, Charlotte sitting innocent as a lamb, and Nathaniel just about ready to fall out of his chair.