Chasing Charity (18 page)

Buddy stepped out of the stable, tired but elated after leaving his horse strapped to a feed bag in the liveryman’s care. Hungry himself, he intended to belly up to breakfast just as quick as the dining hall of the Lone Star opened for business.

He stood on the already bustling boardwalk in the cold gray dawn and tried to work the miles out of his backside. It had been a long, tough pull, but he made the ride from Port Arthur in record time. And no town ever looked so good to a man as Humble looked to Buddy that morning.

He shifted the weight of the saddlebag on his shoulder and patted its bulging pockets. Bertha Bloom would be mighty happy to see the contents, but not nearly as glad as he would be to see her beautiful daughter.

Thoughts of Charity pushed aside the empty gnawing in his stomach and replaced it with the now familiar ache he got whenever she came to mind. The only remedy was to have her near—medicine he planned to swallow in large doses as soon as the sun rose a bit higher.

He smiled, imagining the look on her face when she saw him back ahead of schedule. To accomplish it, he’d left it up to Lee and Jerry to return with the wagons and bought himself a horse. An irresponsible move, no doubt, but he couldn’t wait another week to see Charity.

If things went according to plan, if she accepted the ring in his vest pocket, no matter where his work took him next, they wouldn’t be split up again. She could go along wherever he went, at least until they started a family. Then he’d find a way to spend as much time as possible at home. He imagined Charity in the family way, her round belly ripe with his child, and his face glowed with pleasure at the bold thought.

Mind still fixed on the future, Buddy drew in deep of the clear morning air and stepped off the boardwalk into the path of a big black horse pulling a loaded wagon. The wild-eyed creature reared, and the driver cursed, jerking the reins to the side. Buddy scrambled out of the way just before the front wheel ran him over.

The rig lumbered to a stop, and the man leaped down. Buddy saw right away it was Daniel Clark. Daniel, who didn’t seem to recognize him, closed the distance between them in quick, angry strides. A scowl as black as a thunderhead darkened his face. “By golly, I almost hit you, mister. Didn’t you hear me coming? What in tarnation were you thinking?”

Buddy took off his hat and offered his hand. “Accept my apologies, sir. My mind is elsewhere this morning.”

Daniel wiped his palm on his trouser leg before taking Buddy’s in a firm grip. “Whatever has your mind, I hope it’s worth your life. It almost got you killed.” He leaned in for a closer look. “Well, if it ain’t Mr. Pierce. I didn’t recognize you under all that dirt and facial hair. Can’t tell if you’ve had a hard ride or been rode hard.”

Giddy with fatigue and pure joy, Buddy ignored the sarcasm. “If you said both, you wouldn’t miss it by much. Truth is, I’m at the easy side of a long, hard ride, but it was worth every mile considering what’s waiting for me on this end.”

Daniel raised one brow. “Do tell? Sounds like a woman to me. Got a little gal waiting for you?”

Buddy felt reckless. “Not just any gal. The prettiest in Texas.” He knew he sounded cocky, but he wasn’t in a mood to consider Daniel’s feelings. After all, the foolish man had trifled with Charity’s heart.

Unaffected, Daniel returned his smile. “Well, I don’t see how that could be, partner, since I’m about to marry the prettiest girl in Texas.”

Daniel getting married? Buddy felt like scratching his head. Could he mean Emily Dane? Charity claimed he was done with her. One thing was for sure—the man’s swagger got more annoying by the second.

“That’s right, Buddy, old boy. You need to check your facts and try again. The sweetest prize in the county fair is spoken for, and the blue ribbon goes to me.”

Something about the way he said it brought heat to Buddy’s neck. Clark was enjoying himself too much. He offered another handshake, determined to hide his fear. “I guess congratulations are in order, then. Who might the lovely lady be?”

Daniel gripped his hand, too tightly to be mistaken for goodwill. His eyes burned with anticipation like a cat ready to pounce. “Oh, you know her quite well.”

Buddy fought to control his breathing. He wouldn’t let the man see him rattled. “That’s not likely. I don’t know that many women in Humble.”

“I reckon you’re well acquainted with this one.” Daniel stepped so near that Buddy smelled barber soap on his face. “Charity and I have reconciled. She’s consented to be my wife. In a few days, Charity Bloom will be Charity Clark.” He lowered his voice and affected a conspiratorial tone. “I’ll thank you kindly to stick that under your hat though. We’ve decided to keep it quiet for a spell.”

Buddy jerked his hand free and glared at him. “I don’t believe you.”

Daniel smirked, blatantly enjoying Buddy’s pain. He whirled away with a laugh and ran both hands through his hair, preening. The cat cleaning his paws after the kill. When he faced Buddy again, his smile had turned cold. “I can see how you might not want to believe it, seeing as how you’ve gone sweet on her, but it’s true. What say we ramble on down to the hotel, and you can ask her for yourself?”

Buddy longed to knock the sneer off Daniel’s face. There wasn’t much doubt he was telling the truth. He didn’t seem the type who could pull off a bluff. He was too shallow and easy to read. If he intended to walk Buddy straight to Charity, he couldn’t be lying.

Daniel interrupted his thoughts. “I don’t mind waiting for you to make up your mind. Just don’t take all day. You see, I have a house to make ready for my new bride.” He took two deliberate steps forward and looked Buddy dead in the eye, his leer leaving no doubt of the intent behind his boast. “And when I carry her over that threshold ... no one can stop me ... from making her mine.”

Buddy didn’t remember what Daniel said next. He barely recalled passing him the saddlebag with instructions to give it to Bertha. He didn’t think about anything until he found himself on the boardwalk in front of the depot. Pausing briefly at the door, he crossed the threshold and approached the counter to book passage on a southbound train. Plenty of work awaited him in Houston. Lee and Jerry could handle things here. He would wire instructions and word of his whereabouts when he arrived at Union Station.

Bertha’s trusting face drifted before him, but he pushed it aside. Unlike him, she’d be fine. He had left her in the capable hands of two men he trusted. As for Charity, he couldn’t allow even the thought of her into his mind for fear of bawling like a boy in knickers.

He paid for his ticket and stepped outside just in time. The Houston, East & West Texas engine roared into the station, wheels churning, stack belching. It barely stopped before passengers boiled out in a great wave, jockeying for position on the platform. Those waiting to board pressed against the tide of people trying to get off.

He hoisted his bag to one shoulder and stormed into the flood, grateful for the distracting noise and clamor. Pushing his way to the door, he handed his ticket to the conductor and swung his bag on board. He followed it without a backward glance at the accursed town of Humble, the black hole that had swallowed his heart.

Daniel burned with satisfaction as he watched the big engine roar to life with short bursts of smoke. The wheels began to turn, picking up speed as the train pulled out of the station ... hauling Buddy Pierce out of Charity’s life. His gamble had paid off. Daniel’s future with Charity was wrapped up and tied with a big red bow. She would be his, all legal and proper, with nothing to stand in his way.

The HE&WT disappeared down the tracks in a shimmering cloud of dust.

Daniel smiled slow and easy and tipped his hat.
You have a nice trip now. You hear?

He turned on his heel, ready to strut up the boardwalk to his rig. The tune he whistled died on his lips when he saw who stood blocking his way. “Well, hello, Emmy.”

“What did you say to him?” Her eyes were hard, her lips white-rimmed and tight.

“Good morning to you, too. You’re up and about early, ain’t you, sugar?”

She bristled. “Come now, Daniel. It’s utterly boorish to pretend things are right between us after all this time.”

Daniel held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. If that’s how you want it.” He had dreaded this confrontation for weeks and needed to get it done, but why this morning, when things were going so well?

Emmy edged closer. “I asked you a question. What did you say to that man?”

He held his arms out to his sides, making a show of looking around at the crowd. “Which man? As you can see, there’s no shortage of men in Humble this morning. No proper place for an unescorted lady, I might add.”

He glanced past her shoulder. “And you are without escort again, I see. Question is, are you a lady?” He leaned into her angry face. “Tell me,
Miss Dane,
does your mama know you’re following me around again?”

Something flickered in her eyes besides fury. Whether pain or shame he couldn’t tell, but he had waded too deep to stop now. “Ah, well, probably not. She don’t always know where you are—or what you’re up to—now, does she?”

Emmy pointed up the track behind him. “I just saw Buddy Pierce get on that train bound for Houston, and I get the feeling it was an unscheduled trip. You said something to make him leave, didn’t you? And I know what it was. You’re not so good at keeping secrets, are you?”

Daniel grabbed her arm. “Maybe you don’t know as much as you think you do, sugar.”

Her eyes went to the saddlebag slung over his shoulder and darkened. “I saw him hand you that bag. Would you like for me to deliver it to Aunt Bertha?”

He tightened his grip, causing her to wince. “You won’t mention Buddy Pierce
or
this bag to anyone. You hear me?”

“Let go, Daniel. That hurts.”

Daniel checked the jostling crowd for witnesses before he jerked Emmy close and breathed a threat against her startled face. “Just know this. If you do one thing to spoil things between me and Charity, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

She stared up at him, disbelief in her eyes, but he knew his threat had found its mark. He shook her once for emphasis. “You messed it up for us before, flaunting yourself, pressing against me until I couldn’t think straight. I won’t let you do it again, Emmy. You hear me? Be warned. I won’t let you ruin this for me.” He turned loose of her arm, despising the feel of her flesh.

“Don’t you dare talk that way to me.” The words were an angry snarl, but he saw fear in her eyes.

“Like I said, Emmy—be warned.”

Emmy backed away, rubbing her arm. She ignored the curses and complaints of those she bumped into, her eyes never leaving his face. Not until she’d put considerable distance between them did she lift the hem of her skirt, lunge for the less-crowded street, and run. She dashed across, dodging mud holes, horses, and a team of oxen. Racing along in front of the far boardwalk, she scurried to the first side street and disappeared from sight.

Daniel sucked in deep through flared nostrils and realized he’d been holding his breath. He looked down at his clenched fists and willed them to relax. Emmy flashed through his mind—cowering in fear, rubbing her mottled arm.

“Let go, Daniel. That hurts.”

Flushed with shame, he covered his face with trembling hands.

“You all right, mister?”

The gentle hand on his shoulder, the sudden voice in his ear, hurled Daniel’s heart to his throat. He spun and clutched the stranger’s wrist in a cruel grip.

Startled by Daniel’s reaction, the old man lost his balance. Skinny arms flailing like disjointed sticks, he fought to gain purchase with his cane. “Let go, mister!” he cried. “I meant you no harm!”

Daniel eased his hold and the man pulled free, teetering a bit before leaning hard on his walking stick. With his other hand on the cane, he had no way to rub his wrist, so he rolled it against his vest. Pain etched deeper lines in his weathered face.

“I thought you might need a doctor or something, but hang you if’n you do. You’re no better’n a mad dog.” He staggered away, giving Daniel wide berth, and limped down the boardwalk muttering to himself.

A mad dog? Is that what he’d become? Perhaps, but he saw no cure except in marrying Charity—and, by golly, that’s what he aimed to do. Maybe then he could return to his right mind.

No one, be it Emily Dane, Buddy Pierce, or Charity herself, had better try to stop him.

He squinted as the sun’s first rays cleared the rooftops and hit him square in the eyes. Morning had hardly begun, yet he’d had a week’s worth of trouble already. Well, so be it. But let any trouble that lurked in the remaining hours find and fall on someone else. He’d had more than his fair share for the day.

Bertha stood on Magdalena’s front porch, hesitant for the first time ever to open the big oak door and step inside. She sorely needed to jaw a spell with Magda but reckoned she wasn’t up yet and didn’t have the heart to rouse her. The big house loomed dark, with no light behind the drawn shades, and Bertha couldn’t bear the thought of sitting inside alone.

Mopping beads of sweat from her top lip with her sleeve, she gazed around the yard. In their part of Texas, a body couldn’t always tell the difference between spring and summer, and the hazy morning foretold a sultry day. Just a few days before, they had awakened to downright cold mornings. Thad always said if a fella didn’t cotton to Texas weather, all he had to do was wait a minute.

Despite the heat, Nash was already hard at work in the side yard, bent low over a wagon wheel. If he wasn’t the biggest man Bertha had ever seen, he sure was in the running. As if he heard her thoughts, he stood upright and stretched, like a bear rising to full height. Shading his eyes with his arm, he balanced a wrench in his other hand and absently scanned the horizon. When his gaze passed over the house, he took a backward glance and squinted Bertha’s way, until his eyes lit on her there in the shadows.

She waved.

He grinned and waved back with the rust-colored tool before crouching down by the wheel.