Matthew was thoroughly pissed off.
“You can pout at me all you like, little brother.” Nathaniel took a long sip. “Doesn’t change that what she was, was no one’s business but hers.”
A few moments later, Eli came bounding through the door. “Was that Miss Elliot? She stop by for breakfast or something? I wonder what a fancy city lady like that would be doing here. Was she lookin’ for work?”
Nathaniel took a long swig and grinned at his cousin. “She came by to court me.”
* * *
Seeing the place in sunlight was surreal. It was still just a typical backwoods roadhouse—the same tin signs, dingy fridge for Coca-Cola on the porch, and vacant side garage. But it was different, too. The air smelled like the bloom of summer, a little dusty with the heat of warm drying grass; nothing like the crisp cold and smell of blood from her last visit.
A fly zipped past, buzzing loud, as the screen door snapped shut behind her. Inside she could hear the men talking, arguing more like, but what did that matter?
Charlie found herself grinning so hard her cheeks began to ache. After the unpleasant way Matthew had been watching her the previous night, she was certain he would shoo her off. But he hadn’t. He was going to let her stay.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d found a place to relax without needing to constantly look over her shoulder. Hell, it had been a lifetime since she’d been able to wear a dress, grow out her hair, and openly be a woman.
Exposing herself to the Emerson boys was a little crazy, but Eli had described a wonderland, and she wanted a piece of it. Monroe County might boast darker commerce, the Emersons might have a less than reputable character, but none of that mattered. Compared to the seedy places she’d lurked, the little town of Gap Mills seemed downright wholesome.
Men and women milled about, running to the feed supply, picking up necessities from the general store, and chatting in the shaded awnings of the sparse public buildings—including the township’s only place to lodge: Fontanne’s Boarding House.
After informing the proprietress of her intention to stay on a month, Charlie made her way upstairs and flopped onto the creaking bed.
She could stay!
* * *
“Eli, load up them crates.” Matthew pointed, before he turned to the tallest. “You too, Nathaniel. When I get back, I better not see you two jackasses foolin’ around.”
Hands shoved in his pockets, Matthew walked towards the general store and glanced out the corner of his eye towards Fontanne’s Boarding House. Charlotte’s beat-up car was there—the woman back from wherever she disappeared to every other time he’d come to town.
He didn’t find taking notice to be prying, more an act of social welfare. Having given his consent she could stay, if the woman did anything—harmed anyone—it was his responsibility to answer for it.
Hell, he’d watched her shoot five men and cut off a man’s finger without flinching. God only knew what else she was capable of.
Grumbling, Matthew looked back to the small plank path under his feet and just about ran into the very object of his thoughts.
Charlotte, far more distracted, smashed face first into his chest. With a yelp and a hurried apology, she jumped back, stammering when she realized just who she’d marched in to. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Emerson. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“S’alright.” He looked past her, making it clear she was not only in his way, but annoying him as well. After a pregnant pause, Matthew made a throaty mumble of gibberish and stepped around her, leaving Charlotte there without so much as a good day.
Behind him, he heard the low chuckles of his older brother. “I don’t think he likes you too much, Charlie.”
Ducking into the General Store, Matthew peered out the shop window, and watched the woman squint up at his scruffy kin. With a halfcocked smirk, she agreed, “That’s for damn sure.”
Pulling off his hat and using it to shade her eyes, Nathaniel grinned. “Howdy.”
“Been behaving yourself, Nathaniel?”
“Not hardly.”
“Color me surprised.”
His brother’s grin only grew. “It’s been a week since you came down to visit us, Miss Charlie. When you gonna come on back to Devil’s Hollow?”
Charlie seemed to think it over, pursing her lips. “Maybe I’ll stop by for some lunch.”
“Supper’s better. That’s when things get real excitin’.”