Romancing the Rogue (71 page)

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Authors: Kim Bowman

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Chapter Four

The next day,
Charlie stood at his spot on the Boardwalk, eager and optimistic. Thanks to the milder winds and the scarf and cap his mother gave him, he didn

t hunch down but stood tall, proud, and assured. Though business was better and several of the wealthy women walking the Boardwalk promised they

d return, Rose, the pretty lady with the gray coat
,
didn

t come. He remained at his post far longer than he

d intended, hoping maybe
she
was delayed at work, but finally gave up when the sun started its descent.

For the rest of the week, Charlie kept one eye open for Rose. He sold only a few paintings and started to lose hope. Maybe coming here hadn

t been such a good idea.

On Friday afternoon,
he
finally caught a glimpse of her
as he
answer
ed
questions from a passerby
.
She seemed lost in thought,
trudging along the outside edge of the Boardwalk.
He
hurriedly ended his conversation and raced across the walkway.


Hello again,

he
said
, adjusting his cap
.

I was afraid you weren

t coming back.

She
looked up at him then, and he
noticed
the tears filling
her
eyes. Instead of the friendly smile
she

d given him earlier in the week,
her
eyes clouded in confusion.

Do I know you?


You came here on Monday morning and admired my painting of the robin and her nest. It sold, but I painted another one
.
Would you like it now?

Her gaze dropped again, and
she
seemed to shrink before his eyes.

I

m sorry
.
I won

t be able to buy anything for a while. I

ve been let go from my job.

His heart ached
at seeing
her
so dejected. But what could he do to help? He could barely support himself, and his family needed him.


Excuse me, sir, but are these your paintings?

Charlie turned to utter an excuse but paused with
his
jaw open at the sight.
The
makeshift booth was crowded with people looking at
his
artwork
. H
e recognized some of the ladies he

d chatted with earlier in the week
.
This time they brought
their husbands
along
.

He reached out and grabbed the lady

s elbow.


I can

t offer a permanent job, but would
you
mind helping me out for today? It looks like I have more customers than I can handle.


What would I do? I don

t know anything about art.


If you could wrap the purchases in paper and thank them nicely, I

ll do the rest.

The woman beamed,
and the sight sent a warming glow straight to his heart.

I can do that
,

she assured him.

They
went back to the booth and sold almost every item he

d brought that day.

~~~~

Rose entered the
sitting room to find
her
mother
attempting to fold a load of clean towels.

Lily cast
her
a sheepish smile.

There
you
are, dear. I thought I

d help out with the laundry, but I can

t seem to get these towels folded nicely, the way
you
do.

She glanced at the mantle clock.

It

s
later than usual. Did that horrible woman keep
you
after hours again?


No,
M
other. In fact, I don

t work at the hotel any longer.

Rose sat
down
and took the towel, folding it absently.


You
don

t?

Lily looked up, confused
, and t
hen her brow cleared.

Oh,
you
finally quit that nasty job. Good. Now
you
can help me figure out how to do things around here.

She
waved a hand
at the towels still in the laundry basket.

In New York
,
I could arrange a dinner party for fifty guests without blinking an eye, but I simply cannot figure out how to fold linens. How did Etta do it so nicely?

Rose bit her lip. She

d have to iron and re-fold most of the laundry. They were due to have guests
that
weekend.


I

ll
be here for
Saturday and Sunday
, like I usually am, but on Monday morning
,
I

ll
have to
find
another job. Until we finish
paying
off our creditors
,
we won

t have enough income from Father

s investments
for
our bills. I was able to work a few hours this afternoon helping out an artist on the
B
oardwalk.


An artist? What was
he
selling?


Watercolors, mostly.
He
has lovely paintings of the local scenery, and this afternoon
there were
so many customers
he
needed help wrapping the paintings.


Wrapping paintings? That sounds much better than doing laundry. Where is his gallery located?


He doesn

t have a gallery,
M
other. He sets up his paintings on the Boardwalk next to the ice cream parlor at Oak Street.


Outside? That can

t be good for the paintings. What if it should rain?


He takes
the
paintings home every night.


He lives nearby? What is
his
name?


Charlie
.
Charlie Brannigan.


Brannigan? I don

t recall a Brannigan family.


I don

t think they live
in this neighborhood
. He rides his bike
to the Boardwalk
every day.


How inconvenient. The poor man. Is his automobile not working?


I don

t believe the family owns one.


Why ever not? How do they
go anywhere
?


If they
travel
off the island, I suppose they take the train. Most people can

t afford to have an automobile.

Lily frowned, and Rose sighed.
M
other really had no concept of how the working class lived.
The Pennington
family had not only owned a car, they

d
retained a chauffeur
.
Lily

s
marriage to Arthur Sheffield had ensured
her
continued freedom to come and go, not limited by funds or the availability of public transportation. Until that awful day, when everything had
changed
.

Rose

s
comfortable existence
had also
been shattered
.
She

d
been a star student at Vassar, enjoying all the school had to offer, when the news
broke
. Her mother had sent a telegram to the school
.
Come home. I need you.
Amazingly
,
the dormitory matron hadn

t blinked an eye when
she

d
gone to her, asking permission to leave the campus. Later,
she
discovered
she
hadn

t been the only young girl yanked out of
the
social
elite
that
day. Others had come out of it worse
.

Father
hadn

t been able to face the fact that his wealth was gone.
He

d invested so much of his money in the stock market
that the crash now known as Black Tuesday had left him heavily in debt.
He

d killed himself almost immediately. And Rose had been left to pick up the pieces.

Some days, the task seemed impossible.

 

Chapter Five


Charlie, I still
can

t believe you sold so many paintings in just one day. And for so much money! This will buy food for a month!

Susie waved her fork in the air for emphasis.

Across the table, Charlie nodded.

I couldn

t believe it either. The last man to stop in was loaded. He

s opening up a new hotel in Wildwood and needed paintings for each of the rooms. He kept choosing more, asking if I had any others. I told him I

d be back in two days with some. So don

t spend all that money
.
I

ve gotta go buy some more supplies.


Right. Take what you need and paint some lovely pictures

whatever the man wants. I

m so proud of you!

She blew him a kiss.

I always knew you were talented.


Thanks, Ma.

He waited until she got up to go to the kitchen before leaning toward Connor and whispering
,

But I think it

s partly because my Lady Luck finally showed up again.


She came back? Just before people started buying?

Connor whispered back. He let out a low whistle when Charlie nodded.

Well, that proves it. You

ve got to keep her around.


Did she look like a local, or was she a rich lady on vacation?

Katie was also careful to keep her voice down.

Charlie furrowed
his
brow as
he
tried to recall the details of
his
muse. All
that came to mind
was her kind smile and the way she lifted
his
sense of well-being. As an artist,
he
could paint her, but describing her with words was more difficult
.


I didn’t recognize her as a local
.


Was
she
dressed in furs and a fancy hat, or did
she
look more like
she
was on her way to work?

Linda pressed.


Or was
she
a hungry girl looking for a handout?

Connor tended to have a more jaded view of people than his sister.


No, I don

t think
she
was a homeless vagrant.
She
was
clean
, and her clothes were tidy.
Her speech was precise, like someone you

d hear on the radio.
But she was
n

t
rich.
When I saw her, she was upset because she

d just lost her job. Her coat
didn

t have fur
,
not even around
the
collar. And
she
didn

t look down her nose at me, not like the really wealthy ladies who used to come into the gallery.


Probably a working girl, then.
She

ll get another job.
But if
she

s
got an income,
she

s
not going to take a second look at you.


Why ever not? Our Charlie is a handsome man.

Ma re-entered the room carrying a freshly baked pie. The expression on her face was so fierce, Charlie almost laughed.


Well, he

s my brother, so I can

t call
him
handsome. But if some strange man looking like
him
showed up and wanted to talk to me, I

d run. Look at
him.

Katie tossed a careless wave toward her brother.

His
hair is long and scraggly,
his
nails are dirty, and he

s got paint splotches all over his old, raggedy clothes.

Charlie looked down at
his
hands. A glance at
his
reflection in the window told him Katie was right. Before the hard times hit
,
he
wouldn

t have been caught in public like this.
He

d been to enough gallery openings and galas to know how to
groom himself
. But times were tight
,
and
he
couldn

t afford the things
he

d once taken for granted.


Okay, Katie. You

ve got a point.
I
guess
I

m lucky the customers even stopped.

He sighed.

I
still have some
dress clothes from my gallery days, but what about the rest?
I
can

t afford to go to the barber.


What about Aunt Ida? She cuts people

s hair,

Connor offered.


Ida is not touching Charlie

s hair!

Susie slammed her palm on the table.

Have you forgotten what she did to your Pa?

Charlie
shivered. Pa had worn a hat for weeks after Aunt Ida had butchered his hair.


I have a better idea,

Susie declared.

Do you remember Erin Grady?


Of course I do,

Charlie answered.

Her family has
lived next door as long as I can remember.


Erin
went to beauty school. Up until a few years ago
,
she
worked
at
a salon in Philly
and d
id hair for all sorts of famous people.
If
she

ll cut
your
s
,
she might
even agree to trade for
a
painting.


A
smaller one, maybe. The bigger
ones
are worth a lot more than a haircut.


Well, it won

t hurt to ask. I heard she moved back in with her folks, she and her husband and their two kids. Mabel is beside herself trying to figure out how to feed that huge bunch.
Lots of hungry mouths to feed on just
one
pension.

Having made up her mind,
Susie
got up from the table and marched out.

Katie waited until the back door slammed before she started laughing.

Well, Charlie, I guess you

ve got yourself a haircut! You know, if you fix yourself up nice enough, maybe the muse lady will agree to more than just standing in your booth for good luck.

~~~~

Ma returned less
than a half hour later with the neighbor in tow. Erin set up her supplies in the kitchen: towels, shampoo, scissors
,
and a cape.
She
had Charlie strip to the waist and
washed his hair in the
kitchen sink
.
After he settled in a chair
,
she wrapped the cape around his shoulders
.
L
ong
lock
s of wavy blond hair
soon covered the chair and the floor around it
. With each
falling strand
, a worry went with it.
His mood lifted
, as if the haircut represented a change in not only
his
appearance, but
his
fortune.

Erin stepped back.

Now for the great unveiling,

she declared. With a flourish, she swept away the cape, dusted off his shoulders with a towel, and handed him a small mirror.

Charlie hardly recognized the man
staring
back at him. Instead of the wild untamed locks he

d sported earlier, a neat, contemporary hairstyle gave him a much more professional
appearance
. Erin had even trimmed his beard and mustache. He looked like
his
old self back
in
his
successful days in
the
City. A glance at
his
mother and sister assured him they approved of the transformation.

I look like someone I would want to do business with
, his practical self admitted. He smiled.

Thank you, Erin. What price did you and Ma agree on?

The girl sat at the kitchen table. A cup of steaming coffee, compliments of Ma, appeared
,
and Erin clasped it.

I need a picture of the house,

she began.


Your house?


Yes. It looks like
we
might
lose it, in spite of all of us pitching in. I

ve tried selling my hand-woven rugs, but people around here don

t have the money for them.
Ma
found out Pop took out a loan against the house just before he died, and
we
can

t pay it
and
the other bills. I thought if you could paint it,
we

d at least have a memory of it when
we


She
choked on her words.

Charlie

s throat went dry. He could imagine the heartbreak of losing the family home. Thank goodness the
Brannigan
home had been paid in full, and he only needed to take care of the maintenance and taxes. But Erin

s father hadn

t been so frugal.


I

ll paint a picture of your home for you.
I need to work on some orders this weekend, but next week,
after I

m finished at the Boardwalk, I

ll start sketching. I

ll make
it
so good you

ll want to open the door and walk in.

Erin packed up her things and left, and Charlie got out
his
supplies. But
his
heart was heavy, and instead of the bright summery colors he normally used when painting pictures of the Wildwood scenery,
his
brush dipped into the dark, sinister shades of night.

 

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