They took the late train home, Charlie napping against his shoulder, Matthew able to rest his cheek on her hair. By the time they got to Monroe County it was dark. It was cold. And as much as he wanted to keep her, Matthew was not going to see her shivering on the vacant Gap Mills platform just so he could have her to himself a little longer. He urged her to her car and followed to the boarding house, grateful for the wave she threw before the door closed.
He saw her again the next afternoon, Charlie right on time for her Saturday lunch at Devil’s Hollow.
Nathaniel slumped in his usual spot, sloppy as he ever was, sat up straight the second Charlie pulled open the screen.
Setting his broom aside, Eli rushed forward to help her with her coat. “Well, Miss Charlie, how was Chicago?”
Charlie took her usual seat, her eyes meeting Matthew’s in the mirror. “Just fine.”
Nathaniel picked up on their little exchange, cooing, “Did you go dancing in that fancy dress?”
“I did,” Charlie answered, turning towards the troublemaker. “Tommy even let me stand on his feet so he could do all the work.”
An irritated growl came from the man plating food.
Nathaniel darted a look at his agitated little brother and frowned. “What else you do?”
“Never you mind what I did in Chicago.” Charlie gave Nathaniel a poke. “Just know I had a wonderful time.”
Eli straddled the seat beside her. “You going back soon?”
Charlie nodded. “Around Christmas…”
“That’s next month,” Matthew grumbled, plopping her laden plate down. “You have no business going back to Chicago so soon.”
Frowning, Charlie made it clear she’d do as she damn well pleased. “If you think I am spending Christmas at the boarding house with Mrs. Fontanne, you are dead wrong.”
Nathaniel was getting too much of a kick out of Matthew’s open frustration.
“Nathaniel, stop grinning like a jackass. Eli, get on the grill. And Charlotte—” He slammed a second plate down and moved around the bar to sit at her side, “—you will spend Christmas here with us. Not with Martha. Now, eat your damn lunch.”
Unsure why he’d worked up such lather, Charlie picked up her fried chicken and did as she was told. The first crispy bite was so damn good she closed her eyes and sighed. “I would take your cooking over lobster salad at the Drake any day, Matthew.”
He hunched a little less, nodding once to confirm he’d heard her. Working his jaw, Matthew offered his own amends. “I like it.”
“You like what?”
He gestured at the ceiling, saying in his way, he liked what she’d done to his bedroom.
Flattered, Charlie smiled. “I told you it was nice waking up with something beautiful to look at.”
Once she’d spoken, Nathaniel starting laughing so hard he just about fell out of his chair.
Turned a vibrant shade of red, Charlie snarled, “Nathaniel, you stop laughing or I will slap that grin right off your face.”
He straightened and brushed the hair from his bloodshot eyes, faking behaving before adding, “Fancy wallpaper is nice, but I think the man would prefer waking up next to something beautiful he can look at.” And the guffaws started all over again.
Even Eli began to snicker. Tears in his eyes, the boy looked up to the mirror just in time to see Charlie sock Nathaniel square in the shoulder.
Openly surprised she’d followed through on the threat, Nathaniel watched her march out the door, shouting after her, “I was just playing, Charlie! Come back. Don’t be mad.”
“I’ll give you playin’,” Matthew growled, already standing and mighty angry that Nathaniel had scared her off. “You know she’s shy. You have any idea how hard it was to get her to put down her hackles and hear me out? She wasn’t even here an hour!”
Nathaniel wasn’t sure what shocked him more, Matthew’s sudden verbosity or the fact he’d called Charlie shy. Then it struck him… Matthew wasn’t saying she was shy, not really. He was saying she was unsure of herself. And she was. “I’ll go down to the boarding house and take her something nice. I’ll put on a clean shirt and everything.”
Matthew grew red-faced. “You want the whole town to think you’re courtin’ her?”
“Jesus, Matthew. I ain’t got designs on your woman.” Nathaniel reached for a fresh jar, twisting off the cap and setting his lips right to it. “And it ain’t my fault you just sit there quiet, making eyes at her when you should be telling her she looked pretty in her dress or asking her to go for a drive.”