They hadn’t spoken once she let go of his hand. Matthew just held up her coat and helped her to his truck. The ride into town was equally silent, Charlie trying her damndest not to steal glances at the stoic driver.

She was angry, her ankle hurt, and no matter how hard she’d tried, she couldn’t make it in Monroe – not after what she’d confessed. There would be no more amusing Saturdays at the grill, no more explorations.

She’d have to leave - as soon as possible.

When Matthew’s truck came to a stop outside Fontannes Boarding House, Charlie didn’t wait to see if he would break the silence. She hopped out, ignoring her ankle, and fled inside before he got it in his head that she might need his help.

Even though her coat covered the bloodstain on her dress, the utterly annoying Mrs. Fontanne gave her a world of grief when she came in looking half wild. One heated look had shut the old woman’s mouth long enough for Charlie to stagger upstairs.

She didn’t come down for dinner.

When morning came, Charlie styled her hair to cover the small gash, packed her things, and went straight to Gap Mill’s modest train station. She was debating on destinations, just about to fork over money to hightail it to White Sulfur Springs, when someone tapped her shoulder.

Looking back, Charlie found Eli out of breath, sweating like he’d just run a marathon.

“Miss Charlie, what are you doing here?”

“What does it look like? I’m getting out of Monroe.”

The boy seemed nonplused. “But… I came down to getcha. Your car is all fixed.”

The Emersons must have wanted her out of town badly to have repaired her car overnight. Frowning, she tightened her grip on her suitcase. “Then let’s not waste time…”

Matthew glanced at the clock, chewing the toothpick between his teeth.

“You can stop checking the time every two minutes, Matthew,” Nathaniel muttered, eyeballing the liquor in his jar. “She won’t get far without her car.” The glare Matthew shot his brother only made Nathaniel chuckle. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and the damn thing’ll break down again. Want me to go pull a few wires?”

Matthew turned his back on the drunken jackass and sprinkled seasoning over the steaks he’d just finished grilling.

Five minutes later, the noise of Eli’s car sounded on the drive. Leaning so he could see out the window, Matthew watched Charlie climb from the blue Ford she’d abandoned ten months back. She looked unhappy, her hands fidgeting nervously with the buttons of her coat.

Eli was quick to her side, filling her ears with a stream of babble, taking her arm so she might lean on him. His cousin dragged her up the steps and got her through the door, but when Eli began to take off her coat, Charlie hesitated, unwilling to hand it over. The kid gave a good yank and green velvet left her shoulders. There was no cotton frock underneath. Instead Charlie wore a suit far too formal for Monroe. Seeing her dressed for the city confirmed Matthew’s suspicion - she was planning to run off.

Nathaniel gave a low whistle. “Well don’t you look purdy, Miss Charlie.”

Her brow hitched, Charlie countered, “And it looks like you’re soused again before noon.”

“All it takes is dedication.” Nathaniel winked. “Take a seat, I’ll buy you a drink.”

Matthew set a plate on the counter before her usual place. Seeing the steak and scalloped potatoes, Charlie felt a weight in her heart, and could not, for the life of her, bring herself to meet the eyes of the chef.

Matthew cleared his throat, biting down on the toothpick between his teeth. “You don’t like steak?”

She limped nearer, uncertain. “You made me lunch?”

He answered by setting a cup of hot tea next to the plate. Charlie crawled up on her stool and three more plates were placed out on the counter - all the Emersons, even Matthew, sitting down to eat.

One bite and the tightness around her eyes softened. She hummed appreciation, sat a little straighter … until Nathaniel opened his mouth. “Who taught you to throw a punch?”

“Leave her be, Nathaniel,” Matthew warned, turning the full strength of his glare at his stupidly grinning brother.

“I was smaller than the rest of the boys. I got beat on a lot. My boss got tired of seeing me black and blue, so he took the time to point out the way to tackle a larger opponent. How to... I don’t know, fight dirty, I guess.”

“Who’d you work for?” Eli asked, chomping his steak.

Matthew interjected again. “Stop prying into Charlotte’s life.”

It struck her then that Matthew had called her Charlotte, that he was sitting flush to her side, that if she’d pull her eyes from her food she’d find him looking at her. It even seemed like he was waiting for just that.

A deep breath and she peeked at his shoulder, then at the jaw that hadn’t seen a decent shave in weeks. In an act of pure will, she met his pale-eyed stare and said, “The steak is very good, Matthew. Thank you.”

His voice was low. “Thought you might be hungry’s all.”

Charlie nodded and went back to the meal.

“I found her at the train station?” Eli piped in. “Chased her all the way from the boarding house.”

“Oh yeah?” Nathaniel asked, after a belch. “Where were you headed?”

Charlie shrugged. “Anywhere I wanted.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “You really think you’d find a better place to sit and look at things?”

She only grunted and finished her food.

Nathaniel wasn’t about to let it go, and gave her a pinch so she’d stop moping and look at him. When snapping blue eyes popped up, he leered. “You’d be back. We both know you’re secretly in love with me.”

And like that, Charlie burst out laughing. Leaning back, she pursed her lips, nodding as she looked him over from muddy boots to his stained mess of a shirt. “You figured me out.”

Nathaniel had a look in his eye, a look of pure trouble only made worse when he winked.

Matthew got up and disappeared; Charlie took that as her cue to leave. Wiping her hands and preparing to stand, she startled when her plate was suddenly yanked away, and a small recipe box was plopped down on the bar in front of her. As if to answer her questioning gaze, Matthew handed her a notepad and pushed the recipes closer.

“Those Aunt June’s?” Eli asked, flipping the box open. “Well I’ll be damned - haven’t seen those in years.” The grin he leveled at Charlie was one hundred percent genuine. “When I was real little, I remember she used to make the best peach cobbler. It was just out of this world. Almost as good as the one Ruth makes.” Stammering, cheeks turning red, he whispered, “Ah… don’t tell Ruth I said that.”

“That’s probably light years beyond anything I could make,” Charlie admitted. “I can hardly fry an egg.”

“How did you eat before?” Eli asked.

“Well, most places I lodged in fed me, and I’m really good at opening a can. Bread and butter were also my specialty.” She spoke the truth, aware it sounded awful, and couldn’t help but sigh. “Truth be told, I spent so much time in the woods, I learned how to cook over a fire pretty well - you know, squirrel, rabbit, venison - but that’s just a matter of turning a stick.”

Mouth full, Nathaniel grunted, “Good thing Matthew here could cook for you then.”

Reading over the instructions for meatloaf, she answered, “Yeah. Good thing.”

Charlie dove right in and began studying the cards, taking detailed notes as she scribbled out recipes and occasionally hearing Matthew grunt something like, “Takes three minutes longer than the card says,” or, “You can skip that step.”

She’d been at it so long Nathaniel was working on his second jar, and her hand was starting to cramp. Focused, she didn’t register the sound of cars driving up, or notice the growing tension in the air.

The screen door opened and shut.

“I heard some crazy broad knocked the daylights out of one of my men. She around?”

Charlie set down her pencil. Looking into the mirror hanging above the grill, her eyes locked on the speaker’s squinted baby blues.

Eli had the shotgun, Matthew stood at her back and Nathaniel looked ready to kill.

Charlie turned in her seat, placed her hand on Matthew’s spine, felt his muscles jump at the unexpected contact, and tried to signal everything was fine.

“That depends, Beau.” Charlie peeked around the broad wall of man in front of her. “What do you want with her?”

With five of his goons behind him, Beaumont Radcliffe offered his infamous grin, took a breath of smoke from the cigarette dangling between his lips, and waited for her to come to him.

She did just that, slipping around Matthew before he could catch her, limping right to the well-dressed gangster.

“My god…” Beaumont’s fingers touched the tips of her hair, fluffing them a little as his eyes ran all over her face. “I never thought I’d see the day.” He took her chin and turned her head side to side, his blue eyes sparkling under the brim of his hat. “You grew up into a fine woman, Blackbird.”

She’d always liked the way he spoke, a little nasal and smart - the way she imagined a shifty villain from the silent pictures would speak. Between the thin eyebrows and the charm, it wasn’t far off. He was still larger than life, a true kingpin, an incredibly dangerous man, and one of Chicago’s most notorious gangsters.

Smirking, Charlie replied, “I’m sure there are many who would disagree.”

Matthew was practically boiling watching the gangster touch her fondly - familiarly - waiting for one hint of concern on the golden girl’s face so he might yank her back.

“What do you mean?” The extremely handsome gentleman at Beaumont’s side took off his hat and gave Charlie a charming grin. “You have got to be pullin my leg. Blackbird was a dame?”

“It’s been a long time, Tommy.” Charlie’s voice was decidedly less friendly, but she held out a hand anyway.

Tommy took it and pressed his lips to her knuckles, earning an eye roll from the woman.

Reaching into his coat, Beaumont pulled out a velvet ring box and handed it over, Charlie wiped her fingers on her skirt before she snatched it.

With a coo, she lifted the lid. “Just what every girl wants.” Snapping it shut, she batted her eyelashes. “Considering how fast you got down here, I’m surprised you found the time to get me something so fine.”

“When it comes to my girl,” Beaumont took another long pull of his cigarette, answering with a puff of smoke, “I make the time.”

The Emersons watched her stare at him, a look akin to esteem on her face, and for several long moments it seemed Charlie and Radcliffe shared some silent little world all their own. Whatever passed between them ended when Charlie stood on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering something Matthew thought sounded like, “Be nice.”

When it was done, Beaumont left her there and crossed towards the glowering moonshiner. Offering a handshake, the suave gangster spoke like a politician. “I hear there was a little misunderstanding the other night.

“You a friend of that woman?” Matthew demanded, refusing the offered hand.

Beaumont smirked, withdrew his hand and answered in his suave Chicago twang, “More like family.”

Charlie snorted, passing the pair of them to retake her stool and get back to writing down recipes.

While the men ironed out some kind of deal behind her, Charlie focusing her attention of the art of chocolate icebox pie. Or she tried to, Beaumont interrupted, leaning against the bar and taking the pencil from her fingers.

“What the hell are you doing in this backwater town?” Beaumont glanced past her and looked Matthew in the eye. “No offence.”

“My car broke down, and I came to find I like it here.” She turned to face the man she had a soft spot for, patting his hand. “The people are real nice.”

Radcliffe, fully aware Matthew was uncomfortable with how close he stood to his Blackbird, ignored the tense man and tucked Charlie’s hair behind her ear. “How is your mother?”

Charlie just shook her head, saying nothing but implying much.

“Why don’t you come back to Chicago with us? Martha would be over the moon to see you. I’m sure I know a nice young man or two who can make an honest woman out of you, if you’re ready to settle down.”

“You don’t know any nice men,” Charlie mocked, cocking her head towards the playful wounded look Tommy was giving her from across the room.

Those familiar fingers were back at the tips of her hair - the same fingers that had taught her how to load a gun… where to slip a knife between the ribs for the quickest kill. “Next Thursday night, dinner with the family at the Drake.”

Setting her elbow on the bar, Charlie leaned her head into her palm and gave Beau a little smirk. “That depends. You gonna try to kill me again?”

He shrugged. “A man makes one mistake and you won’t let him live it down.”

The idea of seeing Martha won her over. “What time’s dinner?”

Radcliffe grinned and she could see the wheels in his mind turning. “Let’s aim for seven, Blackbird.”

She laughed. “For crying out loud, keep all that Blackbird nonsense to yourself. Call me Charlotte for Christ’s sake.”

“Watch your mouth, girl,” he corrected, an amused gleam in Beau’s sharp eyes.

“I learned all the choicest words from you,” Charlie teased, picking up her pencil and getting back to work.

A fine fedora went from his fingers to a jaunty angle on his head. “Good evening, gentleman. Been a pleasure doing business with you. Take care of my Lottie now.”

The screen closed, Charlie watching out the window as the cars drove away.

“I’ll be damned.” Eli trotted over with her little present, opening it up to see just what Beaumont Radcliffe brought her. A yelped curse and the box fell, the contents - five bloody human teeth - chattering over the counter like dice. “Why the hell did Radcliffe give you that?”

Ignoring Eli’s poke at a half crushed molar, Charlie met the steely gaze of Matthew, knowing he understood perfectly, and let him answer for her. “Cause he killed the man who touched her.”

“That would be why.”

Though it wasn’t totally true: Beaumont killed the man who ruined what was, no doubt, an underhanded plot - a man who let himself be beat up by a girl.

Eli, still in awe of the whole affair, said, “I can’t believe you know Beaumont Radcliffe personally.”

“You know him, what makes it any different?” Charlie mumbled, writing out the last lines of the icebox pie recipe. “Keep in mind, Eli, if you so much as whisper about this to a soul, you’ll draw a lot of negative attention my way. Do me a kindness and keep your lips sealed.”

“Course, Miss Charlie.” he said it with such enthusiasm she almost believed him.

“Eli, clean that mess off the bar.” Matthew ordered, near enough Charlie could feel his breath brush the hairs on the back of her neck.

Taking care to put the cards away, Charlie climbed from her seat with the pages she’d copied and looked to the man. She gave a small smile, hoping he didn’t notice her blush, and tried to cover with confidence. “I suspect things are square with you and Radcliffe now. No hard feelings and all that.”

Matthew gave a curt nod, staring hard at her.

Swallowing past the strange feeling in her throat, Charlie brushed past to gather her coat. “I’ll leave you boys to do whatever it is you do once it grows dark in Monroe.”

“No one said you had to go,” Nathaniel complained, taking his customary seat at the bar. “Sit down and have a drink with us. Sides, there ain’t nothing to do in town tonight, and it’s too dark for you to sit and look at things.”

“So I should look at your sloppy ass instead?” Charlie mocked, sliding on her coat.

“Didn’t know you was lookin at my ass,” Nathaniel countered, bobbing his eyebrows.

Jacket half on, she gaped at her friend, took in his disheveled appearance, and burst out laughing. He might be a drunken fool but he sure was funny. “Nathaniel, when you get your shit together and stop drinking every waking hour, you’ll make yourself a decent man.”

“I prefer indecent.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

Matthew was watching, measuring her words and movements, waiting for her to look at him while Nathaniel was telling her to stay so he could nod in agreement, but she hadn’t looked.

When her coat was on, she turned to Eli. “You got my keys?”

“Actually, Matthew fixed your car,” the boy said, the teeth dropping with a tinny clank into the waste bucket.

At last her eyes were on him, Charlie’s nervous smile soft as she crossed the space to say goodbye. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.” She reached out, palm up to take her keys.

Looking down at her little hand, Matthew scowled and made a deep throat noise. “Wasn’t no trouble.”

“I appreciate it, Matthew, and for letting me copy down your mama’s recipes.” He pressed the keys into her hand, Charlie asking, “How much do I owe you?”

Dragging his eyes from where their fingers touched, Matthew claimed, “Grimes’ll cover the cost of your car.”

“I mean for lunch. Best meal I’ve had in ages.”

“We thought you might like something fillin.” He looked almost embarrassed when Nathaniel snorted behind him. “You don’t owe a thing.”

Charlie’s gave him a warm, heart melting smile and lowered her lashes, looking to his chest as if counting the buttons of his shirt. “Alright then. Goodbye.”

When she was out the door, Nathaniel choked on shine and laughter. “I bet you wanna give her something fillin,” The hilarity was ruined when his brother slapped the back of his head. “Oww, Matthew! Shit. Charlie ain’t gonna chase you like Alice did. If you want her, you’re gonna have to go get her.”

“She ain’t. No. Alice.” Matthew was red-faced and seriously considering punching Nathaniel right in the goddamn mouth.

“No, she ain’t.” Whether it was his drunkenness or his frustration after months of watching his little brother stare all doe eyed at Charlie and do nothing, Nathaniel stood from his chair, maybe leaner but several inches taller, and snarled, “Alice was spoiled, looking to be taken care of.” Gesturing round the room, spilling moonshine as his jar swept the view he said what no one had dared. “She couldn’t handle this life and ran off to chase her big city dreams at the first sign of trouble. We ain’t never said it, but we know Charlie saved our skins that night. She didn’t flinch, not once; it’s worth lovin her for!” Nathaniel shoved by, grumbling about how fucking stupid his younger brother was for pining over the wrong woman, the screen door banging behind him as he plopped down into the rocking chair on the porch to finish his jar in peace.