Just as she’d said she would, Charlie flitted in and out, coming and going as she pleased. If Matthew had an issue with her independence, he’d not spoken a word, especially since she showed up for every supper smiling and happy to see him.

Her only complaint had been finding him sleeping on a cot behind a screen in the hall, demanding they trade places. He’d shoved her back in his room and shut the door, explaining that it was his house and he could sleep where he wanted.

Most evenings had shown some form of business: men stockpiling before the snows came to make moving moonshine difficult. Charlie had taken to it right away—watching the types the Emersons dealt with, gauging who was trouble while she rocked in a chair by the fire, her rifle hidden nearby.

Not ten nights in, Charlie sat thumbing through a magazine, Matthew negotiating with some rugged country boys. It didn’t take a genius to see things were going to get messy. Low voiced argument turned into rabid shouts when a full jar of shine smashed against Matthew’s skull.

All hell broke out.

Five on three—Matthew swinging a hook that could take a man’s head off, Nathaniel roaring beside him. Even Eli was doing pretty well. But not well enough.

Charlie left the comfort of her chair. It was effortless; raising the butt of her rifle, Charlie knocked the skulls of two brawlers. Once the score was even, she went right back to her reading, and let the men finish the fight.

Less than five minutes the Emersons stood the victors—the only casualty, one innocent jar of liquor.

After the fools were dragged out into the cold, Matthew stomped over to where Charlie sat. She licked her fingertip and turned the page, humming, “You’re welcome.”

The sound he made was extremely exasperated.

Disinterested in argument, she left the men to clean up the mess, enjoying a soak in the tub upstairs.

Certain he would be in a mood, she left Matthew the hot water and by the look of his damp hair when he knocked later, he had followed her unspoken suggestion and calmed down considerably.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t still sulky.

A nasty bruise was forming where the jar had caught him upside the head. Turning his chin, Charlie softly asked, “Are you alright?”

When he just kept staring, she paused, unsure if it was Matthew’s silent reprimand or if he was waiting for something.

“Come on in.” She pulled the door wide. “Take a seat on the bed.”

Once he was settled, she offered two aspirin and a glass of water from the bureau. Moving between his spread thighs, gingerly combing her fingers through the cropped hair near his lump, she fussed over the man. The way he glowered, Matthew behaved like a puppy unsure if it wanted to bite or just be loved on. But her fingers kept soothing until he took a deep breath and his shoulders slumped.

“The one I knocked out near Eli was reaching for a blade in his back pocket. The other one I clocked just to even the odds,” Charlie explained, knowing why he had come to her. “I know you didn’t need my help, but Eli doesn’t know how to fight properly for someone his size, and unless you aim to teach him…” She let the silence speak for her.

Matthew had not seen the knife, and though Eli was enthusiastic, Charlotte was right. Eli was not a hand-to-hand brawler.

Seeing she had gotten through his thick, bruised skull, she leaned forward and gingerly pressed her lips under the swelling on his temple.

Rigid, he watched her take the glass from his hand and set it on the bureau. The mattress dipped behind him, Charlie’s warm palms working to knead the tension in his neck. Never having been touched in such a way, Matthew closed his eyes and hung his head.

When he was just about a puddle, he felt her shift away. Looking over his shoulder, he found Charlie staring, her color up and her pupils large.

Moistening her lips, she said, “Perhaps you’d better get to bed now.”

He had no words. Matthew stood and offered a nod of appreciation, leaving like she told him to.

Back on his cot, he lay in darkness replaying the unknowing hungry look she’d leveled at him, the way her breath had been coming fast and shallow from swollen lips. The very idea Charlotte had become so aroused just touching him made his cock jump in his stroking fist. With his mind full of pretty eyes shining in confusion and a pink tongue darting over her scar, his hand moved faster. With a muffled groan he came, hard.

A whoosh of breath left his chest, thoughts still centered on the woman sleeping on the other side of the wall. When he heard the latch of her door softly lift and the sound of bare feet padding quietly down the stairs, he tied up his drawstring pajamas and moved without thought to see to her.

Silent, knowing where to step on the stairs so as not to make a sound, he watched from the shadows as the golden girl rested against the bar, bare of her dressing robe and leaning forward just enough the silk of her blue nightgown emphasized each dip and curve.

She seemed agitated, sipping a fresh glass of water, fluttering the front of her nightgown. Matthew, eyes smoldering, thanked god he’d satiated his need before seeing her in such a state. Had he been as rock hard as before, he would have taken her right there on the floor.

Moving towards the small pool of moonlight, he saw her startle and blush.

“Matthew.” Painfully aware she was practically naked, Charlie began to scamper away. “I just came down to get something I needed.”

He moved closer, stopping her escape. “Did you find what you needed?”

It was still written all over her, the flushed cheeks, the swollen lips—the way her eyes darted over his body before settling on his mouth. He could practically smell her arousal.

Barely managing a frustrated whisper, she admitted, “I don’t… rightly know.”

Trapped with the bar at her back and the red-blooded man corralling her in, Charlie’s heart began to race. When big, callused hands came to her waist and lifted her to perch at the edge of the counter, her eyes went wide and a gasp fell from parted lips.

Matthew’s nose went to her throat, soft mouth skimming up the ivory column until stopping at her ear. A rumble of noise, a deep sultry purr, promised, “I know what you need, Charlotte.”

She’d been so distracted by the way his mouth felt against her she’d failed to notice the palm skimming up her thigh, or that her legs had parted indecently around his torso. Aware she might bolt, he placed his arm around her, one hand steady on her rump before fingertips slipped beneath the pretty blue silk.

Charlie gave a confused, hungry cry. He hushed her once, felt her trembling something awful and moved to stroke her sweet little center. She was so wet, already swollen and ready for him. All it took was one simple pass over her pert nub before she moaned, wide-eyed and breathless.

Matthew’s steady gaze bore straight into hers—the man watching as he touched, reading how she needed to be stroked by her little pants and mewls. When he slipped one finger into the saturated heat and began to twist it around, she just about lost it, rolling her head back and bracing her body. He pumped against spongy flesh at the roof of her passage, his thumb running tight circles over her little pearl, growling in appreciation at the feel of her.

Charlie clutched the side of the bar until her knuckles shone white, squirming to escape those wonderful fingers, to invite them deeper. Tangled, confused feeling built up, tensing her insides like an overwound coil. Matthew held her steady, mercilessly fostering what was making her breath hitch and mouth gape. His lips went back to her neck, biting and kissing as he upped the tempo and felt her hips begin to roll against his hand. When his mouth closed over the silk covered tip of her breast, her whole body lurched. He felt her buck as she cried out, the flesh around his fingers squeezing tight.

He didn’t ease up; Matthew continued to twist his hand at her pussy, to pluck her nipple with his teeth, giving her all she needed and more. The man didn’t stop until her body was limp, his golden girl whimpering for reprieve, sagging beautifully against his body.

Stretching, Charlie gave a sleepy groan and listened to the men shuffling around downstairs. A wicked smile curved her lips, even as her cheeks flamed in remembrance of Matthew’s fingers. She’d had no idea such a sensation existed, could hardly believe she had lived her whole life completely unaware of something so… explosive.

Sure, she’d lurked in whorehouses, seen men and women in the throes of passion. Prostitutes made noise all right, but Charlie knew it was just to please the customer, recognized the bored look in their eyes when they offered their bodies, and figured they took little pleasure in it. But Matthew, he had set her ablaze. Every gasp and moan had come unbidden, uncontrolled. She’d been a true wanton. Charlie could still feel the lingering suck of his mouth on her breast, see the way his burning eyes urged while thick fingers wriggled inside her. And above all, the arrogant look on his face when he pulled those torturous fingers from her body to suck them clean.

Matthew had not said a word after, simply scooped up her listless body and carried her back to his bed.

And she had slept beautifully.

Wanting to impress Matthew, she pulled on her best dress, took time styling her hair and applied just a little cosmetics.

By the time she made her way downstairs, Charlie found Eli at the grill, disappointed he wasn’t the Emerson she was hoping for.

“Good morning, Miss Charlie.” Eli, decorated with a badly swollen eye, offered as enthusiastic a grin as he could muster. “Don’t you look pretty. Sleepin in late seems to agree with you.”

“Awww, shucks.”

“After all the excitement last night, a good long rest must have been what the doctor ordered.” Setting down a hot plate of breakfast, Eli added, “Glad to see you got what you needed.”

Charlie didn’t mean to giggle, tried hard to cover it with a cough, but she just could not stop herself.

He didn’t seem to catch on. “You gonna visit Ruth today?”

“Sure am.”

Matthew watched the chit chat from his cracked office door, glad to see her smiling so easy. He wanted to go out there and say good morning, and would the second his painfully erect cock stopped filling his head with memories of the perfect expression on Charlotte’s face when she climaxed around his fingers.

Caught up in lurid thoughts, he missed his chance to say hello, Charlie making quick work of her meal and heading out the door. Returning to his desk, he took a sip of coffee and couldn’t help but think it was not nearly as nice as the tangy sweetness he’d licked from his fingers when he’d pulled them from that sweet, little pussy.

“You need something, Matthew?” Eli stuck his head in the office door. “You’re making a lot of racket over those ledgers?”

Matthew cleared his throat, grateful the desk shielded the tent in his trousers. “No Eli. Just wash the damn dishes… I can hear em piling up in the sink.”

“Okay. Now line up the sight with the target, and when you feel good and ready, pull the trigger.”

A boom was followed by a triumphant feminine squeal. “I hit it!”

Charlie was impressed, matching Ruth’s infectious smile with one of her own. “You’re a natural.”

For weeks, Ruth had begged Charlie to take her out to the forest so she might hunt like the menfolk. Over and over Charlie had said no, but the girl had a knack for wheedling and eventually… well… Charlie caved. She wasn’t fool enough to take Ruth hunting, so she’d settled on a secluded spot in a snow dusted copse where she might teach her to fire a pistol instead.

“If my daddy saw me right about now, I think he’d keel over.” Ruth squinted one eye shut and sighted her next tin can target, squeezing the trigger and hitting the stump just below it.

“Not until he beat me good and destroyed my fine reputation,” Charlie drawled, gently correcting Ruth’s line of sight.

“Your reputation ain’t all that good, especially now that you’ve started livin at Devil’s Hollow.” The impish smile on Ruth’s lips, the wicked glitter in her eye… she knew what was going on. “Whole town is certain Matthew is head over heels. You wouldn’t believe the stories bantered about.”

“Try me.”

“Three weeks back Mary Fletcher saw him standing outside the general store gawking at the boarding house for almost twenty minutes. Hear tell, he turned beet red at getting caught, running off when Mary asked if he was gonna buy anything.” Biting her lower lip, looking positively devilish, Ruth asked, “He kissed you yet?”

Boy had he. “Your mind is in the gutter, Miss Cormac.”

The mischief continued. “He is awful handsome… The strong silent type.”

Charlie cleared her throat, gesturing towards the remaining tin cans. “We here to squawk or shoot things?”

Ruth aimed, fired, and hit the target before answering, “Both.”

“What about Eli?” Charlie was more than happy to turn the tables. “He kissed you yet?”

“Oh, he lays one on me just about any chance he can get. Been real gentlemanly though.” Her voice grew a little wistful, “Brings me flowers and courts me proper.”

“And I get the sense your daddy is warming up to him.”

Big green eyes rolled in their sockets. “The fact you keep telling tales and singing his praises doesn’t hurt.”

Charlie giggled. She had been working on the lawman, painting the swaggering boy in a positive light. “The Emersons have been good to me. It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, let’s hope they don’t do anything tonight that might sway his view.”

“Tonight?”

“It’s the Christmas Hoedown at the Barksdale place. Didn’t you know?” Ruth’s eyes went wide. “Everyone is going to be there, and the Emersons will be selling a special batch of their liquor. Eli told me a week ago.”

Charlie shook her head, frowning. “No one mentioned it.”

There was a knowing look in Ruth’s eye. “We can’t let the men dictate everything we do. If Matthew don’t got the grit to ask you, then you should go anyway and keep me company. It’ll give you a chance to try out all those dances I taught you.”

Well, the hell with him. She was going. “I’ll be there.”

When he saw her come down the stairs, hair sculpted and curled like it had been in Chicago, Matthew felt a sinking in his gut. The set of her painted red lips aggressive, Charlie waved off supper and crossed towards the door.

She’d found out.

Nathaniel had warned him trying to hide it was foolish, but he kept his silence anyway. Hell, even Eli’s loud mouth had been sealed.

Looking up from the jar in his hand, Nathaniel gave her a cockeyed once over. “Well don’t you look real purdy in your red dress, Charlie.”

She offered a cold smile. “You look like you actually combed your hair.” Making a closer inspection, Charlie added, “And your shirt is tucked in… Must be a special occasion.”

His cocky grin only spread further. “Will you save me a dance?”

“I would be honored to step on your toes.” Voice decidedly less friendly, her eyes went to his younger brother. “Evening, Matthew. Don’t wait up for me.”

When the door banged shut and her engine revved, Nathaniel began to outright laugh at the look on Matthew’s face. “You are gonna to have a night of hell, and I am gonna to enjoy watchin you squirm.”

“Fuck you, Nathaniel.”

His brother only laughed harder, running a hand through his no longer tidy hair.

Nathaniel’s prediction was accurate; even before they arrived at the Barksdale’s barn Matthew was worked up, gritting his teeth, and a bad-tempered pain in the ass. But when the trio stepped in from the cold and the first thing Matthew saw was Charlie grinning while Frank Dooley spun her around the floor, Nathaniel was certain his brother was going to blow a gasket.

“Get out of the way, Matthew,” Nathaniel pushed past him, arms full of heavy crates. “You gonna stand there gawkin or you gonna move some product? We already got us a line.”

Matthew narrowed his eyes, plotting revenge against the eligible deputy flirting with his girl. “Get to work.”

“Uhhn uhh, Matthew,” Eli complained. “I promised Ruth I’d dance with her. Don’t expect me to be tied to this corner all night.” And just like that the youngest Emerson bolted.

“Now, don’t give him that look,” Nathaniel spoke up, handing a jar to the nearest customer. “He’s got the determination to court his girl.”

Eli made quick work of his wooing, taking a smiling Ruth’s hand and pulling her to the dance floor for the next song. Charlie was also approached, practically yanked from her current partner, and off she went with James Thompson, fellow bootlegger and well-known local Lothario.

Matthew’s sneer amplified. Biting down hard on the cigar between his teeth, he was sorely tempted to just walk up and intervene. Before he could make his move, Nathaniel made a beeline straight over to where Charlie danced, tying Matthew to the corner alone with the liquor. Waiting on the sideline, Nathaniel caught her once the song ended. Spinning her around, ruffling up her skirt, he led her through the steps of a fast paced and boisterous country dance. For such a tall man, Nathaniel was a sprightly dancer, leaving Charlie bursting out laughing as she tried to keep up.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Everyone but the man no soul would approach, not even to buy a jar. All Matthew could see was red… the same red as the golden girl’s far too pretty dress.

Flushed and breathless, Charlie was so god-dang beautiful. Of course there would be a line of men waiting for their turn. But Nathaniel seemed to ignore that another might want to claim her and saw her back to where she’d thrown her cardigan on some hay. Taking off his hat, he plopped down beside her and the two of them ended up in stitches, no doubt from Nathaniel saying something unsuitable—the very kind of foul humor the two always played at.

Charlie shoved him off and Nathaniel came back to his brother, beady eyes brimming with mischief, the eldest unsurprised Matthew’s black looks had frightened off any potential customers.

“Charlie’s a far cry better than she was a few months back,” Nathaniel crowed, unscrewing a fresh jar. “Turns out, she’s been practicing. Wouldn’t tell me who’s been teachin her though.”

Charlotte had been practicing, and Matthew knew it sure as hell had not been he who taught her all those new steps.

“You should stop starin at her like a piece of meat,” his brother teased meanly. “You look just about ready to take a bite.”

“You should shut your goddamn mouth before I shut it for you.” Matthew followed the threat with a dangerous glare.

A sloppy grin stretched Nathaniel’s face. “Whatever you say, baby brother… But just think, if you woulda escorted her like you shoulda, the likes of James Thompson and Deputy Dooley wouldn’t be looking to take a bite neither.”

Looking to the men Nathaniel listed, Matthew found them ogling Charlie just as he had been. And it wasn’t just them, several of the women, including Mrs. Fontanne, were taking measure of his golden girl and whispering.

His legs moved, carrying him over to the fat, old dame and intruding on the women’s circle where anyone standing within five feet could hear Miss Elliot’s name slandered by the old gossip.

“Something just ain’t right about that woman. Comin and goin like she pleased, traveling alone… Came in at all hours of the night with packages from god only knows where. Her highfalutin clothes. I wonder just who she visits… if you get my drift.”

Matthew cleared his throat. When the beak-nose face glanced up to find the looming bootlegger standing near, Mrs. Fontanne glowered. “What can I do for you, Mr. Emerson?”

Taking off his hat, Matthew held her eyes until she took the hint and cowed. “How are things at the boarding house?”

“Just fine.”

Matthew’s voice was menacingly cordial, pale eyes making sure she understood his displeasure. “Send your husband over to see me tomorrow. Seems he and I need to do some talkin.”

Embarrassed to have been corrected in front of her friends, Mrs. Fontanne nodded dumbly.

“You have a good evening now.” Matthew put his hat back on. Cigar between his lips he stalked straight through the party to where Charlotte sat fanning herself.

When she looked up, eyes glowing and full of warmth, Matthew felt as if the room had gone out from under his feet. All at once his anger seemed… wrong.

Taking off his hat, he pressed it to his chest. Knowing folks were watching, he muttered like a jackass, “Charlotte.”

Charlie leaned back on her hands. “Matthew.”

He had no idea what the hell he was supposed to say to her, far too distracted by her pretty smiling lips.

One eyebrow cocked and Charlie broke the awkward silence. “How’s business?”

Ignoring her question, he took the cigar from his mouth, looking down at the glowing tip before rumbling, “Come walk with me.”

Voice thick as the night before, Charlotte agreed. “Sure.”

Matthew grabbed her cardigan, holding it up for her to slip on, doing all the actions of a proper beau where the whole damn barn could see.

Grousing at nearby gawking Eli, Matthew ordered, “Playtime’s over. Get back to work and help Nathaniel.”

And just like that, Matthew was his domineering old self.

A possessive hand on her lower back, he led Charlie out into the cold night air. Other sweethearts were walking in the moonlight, trying to get lost in the motley collection of cars and horse drawn buggies where chaperoning old women couldn’t keep too close an eye. Matthew took her beyond all the nonsense, to the edge of the lot where they stopped and took a silent moment to enjoy the view.

Stars were glowing, smeared across the sky, and it was clear Charlie was content to sit and look. “They sure are pretty aren’t they, Matthew?”

Looking right at her, he nodded once. “Sure are.”

“You were glaring at me again.” Impish eyes peeked towards him. “Just like at the last barn dance.”

He felt a new surge of annoyance. “I wasn’t glarin at you. I was glarin at my brother.”

“After living in Monroe for the last few months, I am quite certain I know your glare down pat.”

Matthew bit the words out around his cigar, “You shouldn’t be dancing with all them men. Sends out the wrong idea.”

The smile fell off her face. “And what idea is that? I’m not the only single woman enjoying herself in there.”

“And just who taught you all those new dances?”

“None of your business, Matthew Emerson.” Charlie squared her shoulders. “I like to dance and I aim to do it. There is nothing improper in my behavior.”

“You came here alone.”

She threw up her hands and felt her temper soar. “I’m escorted!”

Matthew felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. “What man brought you here?”

Rolling her eyes, Charlie lost her cool. “Well, it sure as hell wasn’t you. Somehow, I get the impression you didn’t want me to know about this party.”

Tossing his cigar to the dirt, he took her by the arms and demanded, “Answer the question, Charlotte.”

Hurt rang clear in her voice. “Why didn’t you ask me, Matthew? I ain’t good enough to be seen with?”

“I don’t dance,” he growled.

Charlie waved off his excuse. “I have danced with you. You’re a better dancer than half the men who partnered me tonight.”

He pulled her flush, holding tight so she couldn’t keep trying to storm off. “And just which one of those men brought you here?”

About ready to strangle him, Charlie snarled, “I am chaperoned by Sheriff Cormac and his daughter!”

His rancor softened at the mention of Eli’s girl. “Ain’t no local courtin you?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake! I thought you were courtin me in your piss poor way.”

The nature of his grip on her arms changed, Matthew’s thumbs stroking gently. “I suppose I am.”

She was fed up. “Well shit, Matthew. There’s moonlight and this is supposed to be romantic. Stop lecturing me and kiss me already.”

In an instant he was in motion, Matthew’s lips vigorously silencing the mouth of the exasperated woman. Frustration poured into the desperate nature of the contact—hunger and anger blending with a lingering sense of unfulfilled need. In no time flat, he had her panting, her mouth opening to his tongue.

Charlie knocked off his hat, impatient to run her hands through his hair, reveling in the smell of the man: the tobacco, wool and leather… the heat. When he pulled her closer, shamelessly pressing his arousal against her belly, she let out a suggestive moan, wishing he’d touch her like he had the night before.

“You best quiet that noise before one of the old women hears you,” Matthew panted against her lips, knowing his own groans had been just as passionate.

“Huh?” Her mind was nowhere near a level of comprehending anything outside of the feel of his hands on her rear.

Drawing in shaky breaths, he tried to right himself, willing his cock to lay down. Hugging her to him, he slowly stroked her back, Charlotte seemingly content to keep rubbing against him no matter who might be spying.

“Once I get myself together, I’ll be taking you back inside. You ain’t gonna be dancin with no other men tonight.”

She stiffened. “Don’t think you can boss me about like you do your kin.”

Her threat was like a bucket of cold water. She’d made an outright challenge—he could dance with her or she would dance with someone else.

Bending down to scoop up his hat, Matthew dusted it off against his thigh, and scowling, offered his arm. Entering the barn, Matthew walked her under beams dripping with evergreen boughs and holly. He took her past the punch and red garlands. They’d just about reached the dancing when James Thompson, a man who’d already spun her about three times, by Matthew’s count, walked right on up, sly as a fox. “Care to take another twirl around the floor, Miss Elliot?”

“She ain’t dancing with you, James,” Matthew growled, stepping between them. “And I suggest you back the fuck off from now on.”

Walking Charlotte by the man, Matthew used his much larger frame to force him back… sorely tempted to punch James Thompson square in the mouth. Instead, he gave his lady a twirl in time with the music.

Unsure when he’d last danced in public, Matthew went through the motions, too busy watching her face and the sway of her body to bother with all the curious stares. When the song ended and the party began to clap, Matthew found her panting, a silly grin on her face, and her eyes aglow only for him.

“That was quite a dance, Mr. Emerson,” Charlie praised over the din.

He nodded, resolute. “Again?”

Teasing, Charlie raised her chin. “If you dance with me twice in a row, people will talk.”

“So long as you want to dance, you dance with me.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Nathaniel squawked. “Matthew dancing… never thought I would see the day.” A hand came out and pulled Charlie away. “I’m just gonna borrow Miss Charlie for the next jig. That way she can learn which Emerson is better.”

Aware his brother was goading him, Matthew grit his teeth and refused to make a scene. The song progressed, Matthew only looking away when the sound of his cousin came from his side. “You danced really nice with Miss Charlie… made her all starry eyed.”

“Shouldn’t you be selling jars?”

Eli shrugged. “Everything’s sold.”

“Alright then,” he spoke around the cigar. “Pack it on up. I’m calling it a night.”

Eager to be finished so he could dance with his sweetheart, Eli hopped to it, chattering proudly, “Sheriff Cormac nodded to me real polite like; greeted me and everything. Can you believe that?”

Actually, Matthew couldn’t. He, just like the rest of the county, knew Monroe’s sheriff didn’t approve of Eli for his daughter.

Nathaniel brought Charlie back, Matthew danced with her twice more and then she whispered she was ready to go home.

Home… His home. Her home.

Nathaniel went with them, the three leaving the truck behind for Eli and taking her car the distance to Devil’s Hollow. The second they pushed through the door, Nathaniel moved towards the refrigerator complaining, “My belly is emptier than a steel drum.”

He grabbed the remains of a peach cobbler Charlie had made, preparing to eat it straight from the dish.

“Don’t you dare, Nathaniel.” Charlie walked up and grabbing the fork from his fingers. “You put it on a plate like a grown man, for crying out loud.”

It was such a female thing to say, Nathaniel was a little taken aback it had come from her. “Yes, ma’am.”

Charlie served up three portions of dessert and all three ended up at one of the tables enjoying the treat and the heat of a stove.

“Your cobbler was mighty fine, Charlie.” Glazed blue eyes looked to her with an approving nod. “Mighty fine indeed.”

“You should be thanking Ruth.” Charlie chuckled. “The poor woman has taken pains to teach me the feminine arts. Been real patient and kind. Eli is lucky she loves him.”

Nathaniel shrugged and sipped his jar. “No doubt he’ll find a way to muck it up.”

Stacking the plates, Charlie smiled. “After all the work I put into buttering up her daddy, I would be very disappointed if he did.”

“What you been doin?” Nathaniel asked, cocking his head at the wicked little smirk on her lips.

“Simply pointing out his better traits to distract from the ones Sheriff Cormac doesn’t approve of.”

“So that’s why the sheriff has been warming up to the idiot.” Nathaniel slapped his knee. “Goddamn. And Eli has no clue does he?”

Leaning back in her chair, she couldn’t help but smile. “Eli can be a little clueless.”

Matthew hummed, nodding a bit, and Charlie was certain she’d seen his lip twitch.

The calm was ruined at the sound of the door banging open. A worked up Eli stalked towards the table. “You gotta straighten her out, Matthew. She’s a goddamn bad influence.” Eli pointed at Charlie, continuing to rant. “She ain’t got no right corruptin Ruth. Teachin her things no woman should know.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” It was the first time Charlie had ever heard Matthew raise his voice.

“She took my Ruth to the woods and taught her to fire a pistol. My girl was bragging how good her aim had been. Claimed Charlie called her a natural! It ain’t right teachin my girl to be mannish.”

“Aw hell, Eli,” Charlie muttered, standing to look him dead in the eye. “She’s been begging me to take her shooting since you opened your big mouth and told her I hunt—been pestering the hell out of me for weeks before I finally caved. AND I told her a puffed up in the chest boy like you would not approve. She didn’t care.”

Eli got right up in her face. “Men want feminine wives. Not girls who dress like boys, swear like sailors, and brawl. You put ideas in her head, ruinin her like you are. What are you going to teach her next? How to throw a punch? Cause you certainly taught her how to slap a man.”

“What, like this?” Charlie slapped him good and hard, rocking his head to the side. “I didn’t teach her that. It just comes natural when a boy is braying like a jackass.” Her sharp finger poked Eli in the chest; her lips drew back in a snarl. “Considering the lifestyle you lead and the type of men you deal with, having your woman know how to fire a pistol could keep her alive.”

Eli deflated, his hand pressed to a stinging cheek. “It’s the man’s job to protect his wife… She don’t need that nonsense.”

“You ain’t her husband. And even if you were, you can’t be there all the time to watch over her. It’s plain selfish to be more worried about your image then her welfare. And I swear to god, if you leveled at that sweet girl any of the horrible things you just said to me, I will kick your ass till Sunday.”

“That’s enough now, spitfire.” Matthew knew the look in her eye, could see her balling up her fist. “Nathaniel, take him the fuck home and knock some sense into him.”

“I’ll knock some sense into him now,” Nathaniel boomed, his hand flashing out to smack Eli upside the head. “You goddamn sumbitch talkin like that to Miss Charlie. You lost your fuckin mind?”

Quick as a flash, Eli was dragged out while Charlie stood stock-still, staring at the door.

Eli’s words sunk in.

Humiliated his true opinion of her was so low, she said, “I have never sworn around Ruth, nor has she seen me in trousers. I know my habits are unacceptable for a decent Monroe woman…” Closing her eyes, Charlie let out a shaky breath. “I’ve been careful with her.”

“Hush now. None of what he said matters. Eli’s just upset they quarreled, and he’s lookin to shift the blame.” Matthew put a hand on her shoulder. “Ain’t no shame in what you did.”

Then why did she feel so horrible?

“I, umm, I think I’ll head on up to bed.” The defeat in her voice, in the set of her shoulders when she pulled away from Matthew’s hand, was unmistakable.

He watched her go, heard the bedroom door close, and looked up to the ceiling, having no clue what to do. Offering comfort to a woman had never been something he’d grown accustomed to. But damned if he didn’t think she needed it. Eli had torn her down good, said just the thing to hurt her.

After washing the dishes and straightening up, he went up the stairs, hesitating outside her door. He saw the light go out and chose to leave her in peace, hoping a good night’s rest would set her to right.

When morning came and Matthew made his way downstairs, it was impossible to miss the note and money sitting on the counter.

This should cover whatever I owe for board. Have a Merry Christmas.

-Charlie

He rushed up to her room, barging in to find it empty, the bed made. How on earth she’d managed to sneak away without waking him was beyond him. Her beat up old car’s engine alone would have made a racket… unless she pushed it to the road first.

By the time his family arrived for breakfast, Matthew had chewed several toothpicks to pieces, sitting at the counter in a foul temper.

Eli walked in with his head down, looking like a kicked dog. “Miss Charlie awake yet?”

Matthew slid the note down the bar, looking to it with a nod. Eli and Nathaniel read quickly before Nathaniel bellowed, “God damn it! You ran her off, Eli!”

“I’m sorry,” Eli whispered.

“Ohh, you’re sorry, huh?” Matthew finally spoke, collecting the letter. “What exactly you sorry for? For humiliating the woman who’s been taking time to speak well of you to Sheriff Cormac? Yellin at her for being fond of Ruth? Or sorry she ain’t here?”

Eli just shook his head, eyes downcast. “I’ll fix it. I’ll bring her back.”

“And how the hell are you gonna do that?” Incredulous, Matthew pursed his lips. “Do you know where she goes to ground?”

“Chicago.” His cousin barely breathed the word, knowing without looking that pure rage blazed in Matthew eyes.

The very idea she might be back amongst those men, sitting at a table with Beaumont Radcliffe and his wife, or dancing with that jackass Tommy, made Matthew want to break—starting with Eli’s face.

“Last time she was there Bugs Moran sent a man to rape her, because she’s family to Radcliffe,” Matthew explained in a violent hiss, “Walked straight up to her goddamn hotel room and knocked before I busted his teeth in.”

Eli’s gaze darted up, eyes wide and guilty.

“Who do you think they’re gonna send to finish the job this time? Bugsy himself?” The look of disgust on Matthew’s face grew. “And it don’t scare her like it should. Charlotte just accepts it cause it’s all she knows.”

Nathaniel’s face screwed up, lips in a tight line. “We gotta go get her.”

Matthew crushed the note in his fist.