Chasing Charity (14 page)

He gave her a skeptical look.

“It’s true! Papa always wanted a son. When he wound up with me instead, he taught me to hunt, fish, and tend the hounds. I was a scandalous tomboy.” She smiled, remembering. “He even called me Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“Sort of a play on Charity, I guess. But he did have a best friend named Charlie back home in Jefferson, so who knows.”

“I think I like it. It suits you.”

Her cheeks warmed, so she changed the subject. “Papa loved to fish most of all, and no man in the county was better at it. He always took me with him ... except on that last day.”

Buddy cleared his throat. “The day he died?”

She nodded. “He didn’t wake me that morning. I’ve always wondered why. If I’d been with him, I could’ve done something.”

“Weren’t you still just a child?”

“Almost fifteen. Hardly a child.”

Gentle fingers caressed the base of her neck, smoothing circles of comfort into her skin. “There was nothing you could do. You know that, right? If you’d gone with him that day, you’d likely be lost to us, too. Sounds to me like God intervened because it wasn’t your time.”

His words tumbled into her head and ricocheted. When they settled, a light flickered somewhere in her mind. Charity had never considered such a possibility. It held the promise of absolution but conflicted with the guilt she’d carried since Papa’s death. She’d need more time to sort it out. “I just know that the day he died, everything changed, and it’s never stopped changing since.” She ground tears from her eye with the heel of her hand. “I feel like I can’t catch my breath.”

Buddy lifted his head and stared over her shoulder into the woods behind them. “As an eagle stirs up her nest, flutters over her young, bears them on her wings...”

Her gaze jerked to his. “Excuse me?”

He took her arm and helped her to settle down on the crate. “I’ve felt the way you describe. I didn’t quote it right just now, but I didn’t find peace until I found that scripture.”

“What does it mean?”

“I didn’t understand either until someone taught me about eagles.” He puffed his cheeks and released a long breath. “Let me see if I can explain.” He pressed closer and played with her fingertips while he talked. “You see, a mother eagle works hard to build a good nest for her young. She makes it nice and thick, pads it real good. It’s so comfortable, in fact, that her young would never venture out of it without her help.”

Charity made a face. “Don’t tell me. She pushes them.”

“She doesn’t have to.” He grinned. “Old mama eagle’s smarter than that. She flaps her big wings over that nice cozy nest, stirring up all the soft padding until the sticks and straw are exposed. Before long, sticks and straw is all that’s left of the nest, and it doesn’t take much convincing to coax those little fellows over the edge.”

“Why would she do such a cruel thing to her own children?”

Buddy quit playing with her cold fingers and enveloped them in his warm hands. “Well, because”—he lifted tender, caring eyes—“it’s the only way they’ll ever learn to fly.”

Unsettled by his comparison, she stood to her feet. “It’s getting late, and I still have a long walk ahead. I have a pressing errand east of town.”

He stood, too, bouncing the heel of his hand off his forehead. “That’s right, your errand. I promised to help, remember?”

“Don’t fret. I can manage.”

“How will you get there?”

“The same way I got here—on foot.”

“Now, Charity, there’s no need for that. Let me take you, or hire you a buggy at least.”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough? I appreciate the offer, but there’s still plenty of daylight and...” She paused then continued. “Like I told you before, my errand is of a personal nature, so if you don’t mind...”

He blushed and took a step back. “Of course.”

As she brushed past him, Red came up from a sound sleep and loped toward her.

Buddy reached for her arm. “Charity, wait. About the drilling ... you’re not angry with me, are you?”

“Angry?” She gave him a warm smile. “No, not anymore.”

He took off his hat and gave her a wry look. “But you were.”

She dropped her gaze. “How did you know?”

“Wasn’t hard to figure. That first day out at your place you were cross about something. Then after that old wolf got after you, you apologized for being mad at me. Didn’t know why at the time and never dared to ask. Knowing how you feel about the well, I’m just putting two and two together.”

Took you long enough.

“All right, I confess. I blamed you at first. You know ... because you found the oil in the bog.”

“Fair enough. How about now? Do you blame me still?”

Charity shook her head and gave him a warm smile. “Not very much.” Laughing at his grimace, she placed her hand on his arm. “I don’t blame you at all. And I could never be mad at you again.”

He gave the top of his head an absentminded scratch. “Well, at the risk of changing that, I have one last question.”

She groaned inside. Buddy Pierce was one truly exasperating man. “Which is?”

“Don’t you want to see your mama’s financial burden lifted? Wouldn’t your papa want that, too?”

The air between them crackled.

Charity sucked in a breath through her nose and held it, but it didn’t seem to meet her need to breathe. She’d have to be more careful in the future what she claimed she could never do again. “I really must be going. I’ll see you back in town.”

“I’m sorry, Charity. I didn’t mean...”

After a few paces she turned, nearly tripping over Red. “To answer your question, I wish more than anything I could ease my mama’s burden. I hate watching how hard she works, and I intend to help her just as soon as I find a way to earn some money. However, there’s simply nothing I can do for her now, considering I’m left to provide for myself without a penny to polish.”

She whirled to leave. As she passed the pile of crates, the corner of her pocket caught on a nail and tore away. Coins and commissary tokens tumbled in a sparkling shower, spilling over the ground. Charity spun, clutching at her ripped dress and staring at her secret scattered in plain sight between them.

Confusion masked Buddy’s face. He bent to pick up a bright silver piece and held it out to her. “I think I see your point, Miss Bloom. Why fritter away time polishing pennies when your pockets are filled with these nice, shiny dollars?”

The coin in Buddy’s outstretched hand glinted in the sun like a circle of quartz. Beyond it, Charity stood like the statue of St. Louis of France—only pretty.

“It’s not mine,” she finally said, her wide eyes shifting like she’d been caught at something. “At least, not anymore.” She flapped both hands in frustration. “I mean, it never really was.” She pointed behind her. “In fact, that’s my pressing errand. I’m going to return that money to its rightful owner.”

Buddy didn’t speak. She made so little sense he didn’t know how to respond. Even worse, his eyebrows hovered somewhere in the vicinity of his hairline, and he couldn’t coax them down.

She balled her fists and jammed them onto her hips. “Don’t look at me like that, Buddy Pierce. I can assure you I didn’t steal it.”

When he couldn’t answer, she stalked past and perched once more on her recently vacated seat. “I may as well tell you. You know every other humiliation I’ve endured—why not this?” She leaned to pat the opposite wooden box. “What are you waiting for? Sit down. I don’t have all day.”

Wordlessly, he pointed behind him at the coins on the ground.

She waved her gloved hand. “Leave them. They’re not going anywhere.”

He forced his brows to relax then sidestepped the dog, who sat with his head tilted toward Charity, looking as confused as Buddy felt. Squeezing between her full skirt and his crate, Buddy sat down. Red trotted over and settled at Charity’s feet with a groan of resignation.

She drew a breath and dove in. “The money belongs to Elsa Pike.”

Buddy frowned and rubbed his chin. “Now where have I heard that name before?” Before she could answer, he held up his finger. “Oh, right. The duchess.”

This earned him a smile. “She’s not really a duchess. Folks call her that in jest. She claims she descended from royalty.”

“And she really didn’t?”

Charity shrugged. “No one knows for sure. Her husband acts embarrassed when anyone mentions it. Mama thinks Elsa made it up.”

Buddy chuckled at the mention of Charity’s feisty mama. “She could be right.”

“So anyway, about the money...” She began to fidget. “I arranged a little business transaction with Mrs. Pike that fell through.” Her tiny frown became a scowl. “Actually, it was run through by Mama’s sharp tongue. That ornery woman can’t abide to see me happy.”

He laughed. Her head jerked up, so he traded his tickled grin for a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“It’s my dress, after all. Oh, she made it, true enough, but she made it for me. I should have the right to do with it whatever I please.” She glanced up and sought his eyes. “Don’t you agree?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow. You sold a dress?”

“My wedding dress. Haven’t you heard a thing I’ve said?”

“I’m trying, sweetheart.” The unexpected endearment slipped from his mouth, as natural as drawing a breath. Still, he blushed when he realized what he’d said.

So did Charity.

He tried again. “Let me see if I have this right. You sold your wedding dress to Elsa Pike, but your mama didn’t approve so you’re on your way to fix it.”

She did a jaunty point with her finger. “Exactly.”

He grinned. “See, I was listening. What if Elsa won’t give it up?”

“We never got that far. I still have the dress, or rather Mama does. She’s buried her talons and refuses to part with it. So I have to return Mrs. Pike’s money and somehow...” She sighed. “Somehow break the news to Amy Jane.”

Grateful she could so easily explain the money, Buddy felt the tension ease from his shoulders. “Is that all?”

Charity stiffened. “What do you mean, ‘Is that all?’”

“I mean I don’t see what’s so scandalous about selling a frock.”

She looked at him as if toadstools had sprouted from his ears. “Not just any frock, Buddy. My wedding gown. The one I wore for the hour it took to ruin my good name in this town.”

He shot forward, startling Red, and wagged his finger. “Now you see? There’s your problem. If you ask me, you set too much stock by what folks around here think. About you
and
your mama.” He slouched back and pushed his hat off his forehead. “I thought you were about to bare your soul again, maybe tell a story as lively as your last confession. I have to say, I’m a little disappointed.”

Charity’s lips parted; then she swelled like a colicky horse. “Well, forgive me for letting you down. Hopefully my next calamity will provide you with more entertainment.” She turned a frosty shoulder in his direction. “Perhaps the severity of my problem escapes you. When I hand this money over to Mrs. Pike, it means I won’t be eating supper tonight.”

Buddy bristled. “You know full well I’m not about to see you miss a meal. It’s only when you’re headstrong that you wind up with a hollow belly, not to mention a heap of trouble.” He bent to give her the eye. “Now ain’t that so?”

Charity stood. “I won’t bother to answer such a ridiculous question.” She leveled a withering glare at his outstretched legs. “If you’ll be so kind as to move aside, I’ll be going now.”

Buddy lifted one pointy-toed boot to her crate, totally blocking the way. “No, ma’am, I won’t excuse you. Not until you promise I can take you to the Pikes’ in my rig.”

The startled look in her bright eyes became a hooded challenge. “I’ve asked you kindly to remove your feet.”

He took off his hat and fiddled with the band. “I’ll be happy to. As soon as you agree.”

With a swish of her skirts, Charity pivoted to face the rickety stack behind them. Chin held high, she seemed to weigh the danger of squeezing through the tight space. Obviously finding it too risky, she turned around and crossed her arms over her chest, so stiff she appeared to grow six inches in stature. “Why, Mr. Pierce, did I mistake you for a gentleman?”

He tucked his hat back on his head then pushed it up to see her face. “That’s an impressive show of indignation from the same
lady
who bamboozled me a couple nights back. I consider this an act of justifiable recompense.”

“Bamboozled? Why, I never—”

“You don’t recall the matter involving me in a monkey-suit and you with a certain room key?”

Charity’s scandalized expression disappeared, and her defiant chin lowered to her chest. She laced her hands behind her back and traced circles in the dirt with her shoe. “I didn’t bamboozle you, Buddy. I wouldn’t.” She bit her bottom lip, but a tiny smile fluttered at the corners. “Besides, I believe the word you used then was ‘bushwhacked.’” The smile widened into a grin. “And I’ve since decided your estimation of my actions was entirely too harsh.”

The girl enchanted him. Before he could stop himself, he was on his feet with his arms around her, laughing like a man with no sense. He knew he didn’t imagine it when she returned the enthusiasm of his embrace. When he could, he held her away from him and gazed at her beaming face. “Pardon my zeal, Miss Bloom, but has anyone ever told you how endearing you are?”

She affected a coy look. “Oh yes. Every day.”

“I’d tell you every day if I could.” Heat warmed his face, matched by a rosy flush on her cheeks. With her eyes cast down, all he saw were dark, sweeping lashes curled up at the ends. He longed to kiss each one but knew he’d gone too far already.

She lifted her gaze. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, I suppose you can give me a ride. If you still have the time...”

Buddy stepped aside. “After you, ma’am.” He sighed. “That is, if you can hurdle that overgrown hound.”

Charity smiled. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to jump him, though I’d rather not.” She nudged the dog with her toe. “Get up, Red.”

He reluctantly stirred then followed them sleepy-eyed to the rig.

Buddy handed Charity aboard then scuttled back to pick up her assorted loot before swinging up onto the driver’s side. One brow raised, he handed the money and tokens to Charity. Without a word, she snatched them then opened her one good pocket and let them tumble inside.

They rode quietly at first. Charity, whether staring off in the distance or watching Red trot alongside, seemed lost in thought.

Probably rehearsing her speech to Mrs. Pike.

Buddy was busy rehearsing a speech of his own. He noisily cleared his throat.

As he’d hoped, Charity’s head swung around. “You have something you wish to say to me, Buddy?”

“I don’t want to intrude on your musings.”

She made a face. “Believe me, they bear intrusion.”

“I just wanted you to know, although your situation appears bleak at the moment, I believe things will work out in the end.”

A slight frown creased her forehead. “On what do you base such confidence?”

He grinned. “The Bible does say, ‘Charity never faileth.’”

She didn’t actually return his smile, but the slight deepening of her dimples gave her away. “I know you’re probably right. It’s just that things seem so hopeless.”

“Hopeless? I haven’t turned you out in the street yet, have I?”

She patted his hand. “That’s because you’re a wonderful man. Except I can’t in good conscience allow you to continue what you’ve been doing. It’s outlandish.”

“I really don’t mind.” How could he admit that not only didn’t he mind taking care of her, but he wanted to? How could he tell her that tending her needs just felt right somehow?

“I’m sorry—it’s out of the question. If I can’t pay my own way, I’ll be forced to check out of the hotel in the morning.”

Surprised, he spun on the seat. “And go where? To the Danes’?” “Never!”

“Then where, I’d like to know?”

The dejected slump of her shoulders told him she couldn’t answer his question.

They continued the ride in silence. Buddy’s mind roamed in circles until he had crossed off every possibility and exhausted his imagination. He turned to prayer, where he should’ve started in the first place.

As they rattled down the road leading to the Pikes’ farm, the solution darted up and hit him squarely between the eyes. He reined up and faced her on the seat. “I know what we can do.”

Her eyes brightened. “There’s a remedy to this predicament?”

“Indeed there is. It’s simple really. The oil company owes your mama a fair sum for the lease of your house, isn’t that so?”

She nodded, but the mention of the oil company dampened the expectant light in her eyes.

“Just listen now. If Bertha agrees, I believe I can arrange to charge off whatever money I’ve spent on you against her check. They’ll deduct my portion and hold it for me. When she gets the balance, she can take over from there. Then you won’t be taking anything from me.”

Charity clasped her hands. “Oh, Buddy. Will the check be enough for all that?”

He nodded. “With money left over to hold you through the month. They’re fairly free with their purse.”

She sneered. “They can afford to be, can’t they?”

Buddy picked up her hands. “Listen, I’ll be the first to admit that drilling oil—like anything else involving fast money—attracts a bad bunch of men. Sure, there are depraved, greedy souls who take advantage of good folks to make a dollar, but we’re not all bad.”

She cringed and pulled one hand free to cover her mouth. “Oh, Buddy, I didn’t mean ... that is ... well, you’re not, of course.”

“Not just me, Charity. If you took the time to get to know a few more of us, you’d find that the majority of men in the oil business are decent, hardworking, and honest.” He gave her other hand a firm squeeze. “I intend to hang around long enough to prove that to you. I’ll have you trusting oilmen again if it’s the last thing I do.”

She offered a brave smile and turned away, but not before he saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes.