After Charlie stumbled into a dress and made her puffy face look somewhat decent, she found Matthew waiting downstairs. Without a word, he took her hand and led her outside, walking them both straight into the woods.
Ten minutes later they stood inside her wreck of a house.
Light filtered in where portions of the roof and walls were missing, plant life grew out of the floor. But between faded wallpaper and cracked masonry, it was still beautiful.
“Here’s how I see it,” Matthew looked around the parlor, nodding to himself. “You lived your life for your mama, made sure she was well-tended. Because of you, she was blessed enough to pass in her sleep, real gentle.” Pale eyes darted down to find Charlotte gnawing her lip.
Charlie could see what he was not saying, what he was trying to show her. This house he was going to build for her was the symbol of the future she once never thought was possible. There was hope and a whole world just waiting.
“When I was sitting on the porch…” Charlie swallowed, took a shaky breath, and continued her confession, “When I was sitting on the porch, I was numb at first. Then I felt this odd wave of relief. A part of me was glad she was dead, Matthew.” Forcing herself to look him in the eye, Charlie asked, “What kind of woman does that make me?”
“I won’t act like I know what you been through—what you denied yourself or how you struggled to care for your mama. But I do know that you felt liberated cause that’s what you were. God set you free when he set her free. You don’t have to live in your dead brother’s shell no more. She is at peace, you can be too. In the meantime, grievin’ is natural.”
Her fingers tightened in his, Charlie nodding sadly.
“I got men coming to start work on the house tomorrow.” Matthew surveyed bracken and rotting walls. “They’re gonna need direction from you. You can change whatever you don’t find pleasin’, arrange the rooms to suit you.”
This was her fresh start to choose whatever future she wanted. “Careful what you offer, Matthew, I might just get carried away.”
Threading his fingers through her hair, Matthew rubbed where he knew her head must ache. “It will be a fine house, Charlotte.”
Back at Devil’s Hollow, Charlie flipped through the paper, reading yet another article featuring Gangster Tommy Kennedy’s Rising Fame. Matthew, at her elbow, tallied accounts, Nathaniel staring off into space at his side.
Charlie was far less distraught, had even smiled once or twice since their return. But when the screen door swung and Eli pranced into the room with something tucked under his coat, Matthew glared.
The last thing he needed was something stupid coming out of Eli’s fool mouth setting her off again.
Eli, oblivious to the outright growl coming from his cousin, stood proud as a peacock. “Put that paper down and hold out your hands, Miss Charlie.”
Before she knew what was what, Eli stuffed a striped kitten into her palms.
Unsure what the hell to do with it, Charlie dangled the tiny animal at arm’s length. The kitten stared at her, Charlie stared right back, both creatures confused.
The scrawny thing made a little mew.
Her scowl faltered. When it began to purr, a slow-spreading smile brightened Charlie’s face.
Eli, certain down to his bones the kitten would cheer her up, grinned. “Miss Miller’s house cat had a litter few weeks back. What you gonna name him?”
Charlie pulled the kitten to her breast. “Aren’t you just the fluffiest little baby kitty. You’re so cute with your big ol’ eyes and blue bow round your neck.”
Matthew’s shocked scoff caught the kitten’s attention.
In response, Charlie fawned all over the purring cat. “Don’t worry about big, bad Matthew, Gus. He’s harmless.”
Knowing better than to keep a cat at the table, Charlie moved to her rocking chair, where she cuddled up close to her kitten.
Nathaniel, just as surprised to see Charlie act so girly, found himself amazed Eli had done something right for once. Funnier still was the look on his brother’s face. Watching Matthew just about jump when Charlie let out a girlish giggle, required a proper smart-ass response.
“Damn…” Nathaniel slapped a wicked leer on his face. “If she goes all soft over one mangy, flea-bitten mongrel, imagine what she’ll be like cooing over your first baby.”
It wasn’t even hard for Matthew to picture it—a tiny infant in his golden girl’s arms, her face soft as she smiled down. His scowl vanished, Matthew liking the image before Nathaniel ruined the moment by adding, “And the way you been ruttin’ after her, big, bad Matthew, it’s safe to say you’ll be building a cradle come Christmas.”
Ignoring Eli’s laughing snorts, Matthew looked to his older brother and leveled him with a glare, shocking his kin by agreeing. “I imagine you just might be right.”
Chapter 13
His most reliable supplier sitting across the desk, Beaumont scowled, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He knew what Matthew was waiting for, information on the man who’d cut Lottie. Before he might get to business, there was a pause, the strike of a match, and a dense cloud of tobacco smoke. “Listen, Matthew. As I hear it, there’s a juke joint outside Charleston—place called Friendly’s—where a man with a scar down his cheek has been asking around for work.” Beaumont settled his elbows on the table, cocking a brow. “A fr