She set her cup down in the saucer and smoothed the napkin in her lap before she spoke. "Mr. Carter, what would you have me say to that remark? I have only just met you and I do have a great deal on my mind, as you well know, otherwise I would never have bumped into you and we would not be having breakfast together at this very moment," she teased him back.
"Yes, that is true. My apologies. For my forward behavior, that is. It is just that I am so taken with you, that I have misplaced my manners. I promise to behave during our next outing."
Charity picked up her napkin and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. "Mr. Carter, you assume there will be a next outing."
He looked genuinely stricken and although his interest stroked her newly discovered female ego, she wasn't interested in the man. Not in the least.
"Miss Montgomery, I know this is going to sound forward of me, but would it be possible for me to pay you a visit at your home perhaps?" His anticipation of her answer made her feel a pinch of pity for him. She knew how it felt to want someone so bad you couldn't eat or sleep or even think straight. That's how she felt about Miles. Damn the man for not seeing that they belonged together. She should be planning her wedding day now that she was a proper lady, not playing games.
"I would consider that an honor, Mr. Carter. If you will tell me where you are staying, I will send an invitation around for my welcome home party this evening at the Hanovers home.”
"I would be delighted to tell you, but I'm uncertain where I shall hang my hat this evening. I had planned on conducting my business in Creede quickly and returning to my home, but now I believe I may stay around for a bit longer.” Mr. Carter was making it painfully obvious he intended to court her. She wasn’t opposed to it. At least, until Miles Grayson pulled his bone head out of his hat.
“What do. You say? Would you mind if I paid you a visit?” he persisted.
“I should get on with my morning errands, Mr. Carter. And yes, I hope to see you this evening at my party. Just ask anyone where the Hanover mansion is. They will give you directions.”
The man helped Charity with her chair and then they parted just outside the café. She stood in place and watched him disappear down the street. Agreeable enough man…but not Miles that much was certain.
Charity didn’t really have any errands to run this morning, but—since she was standing a few doors down from the bakery shop, she thought perhaps Aggie could use some fresh bread for the party tonight.
She knew that wasn’t the case because Sarah made everything in the Hanover’s kitchen. But still. It couldn’t hurt to offer, right? A lady always does her best to help her family.
The bakery shop window was bright and cheery. The yellow and brown hand painted letters across the front glass left no doubt as to what a person would find inside.
Charity stepped inside the small business and was immediately greeted by the woman in the blue gingham dress she met in Miles’ office earlier this morning. The meeting that set her on her current plan of action.
“Good morning, how can I help you?” The woman asked, her head deep inside the pastry cabinet moving cinnamon rolls from her baking sheet to the glass shelves.
“I need some fresh rolls for a party this evening. And perhaps a lovely cake of some sort.” Charity pretended to study the bakery items behind the glass counter as well.
“Of course.” The woman straightened and when she saw Charity, her eyes squinted. "Miss Montgomery isn’t it? I’ll bet you’re here for those cinnamon rolls Miles bragged so much about.” She smiled and opened the cabinet that boasted the greatly touted rolls.
Miles. She calls him by his first name. Charity gritted her teeth and pasted on a practiced smile. “That’s right. How sweet of you to remember.” She knew she was being ingenuine, but she didn’t care at the moment. The woman called him Miles. “I’m so sorry, I do apologize, but I can’t seem to remember your name? Sally, is that right?” She feigned innocence, but she knew exactly who this woman was. What she didn’t know was who she was to the sheriff. Her sheriff.
“That's very close and that's quite alright. We will get to know each other better the longer you're here. My name is Selina. Selina Watson,” the woman offered.
“Ah yes, Selina.” Charity kept her pasted smile in place and again pretended to study the baked goods. She pointed to a batch of cinnamon rolls. “Those do look delicious. Are they fresh?” She practiced her banter to distract the woman so she could study her in detail.
“Oh yes. Everything was made this morning,” Selina assured her. “Would you like to try one?” She offered.
“No, I’ve just finished breakfast with a gentleman friend and I couldn’t eat another bite.” She emphasized the fact she was dining with a gentleman. No sense in letting the woman know she was planning to push her out of the way. A lady never gives the competition notice before you unseat them from their position. Another lesson learned behind closed doors.
“Ah, over at the boardinghouse cafe?” She asked.
“Yes, that’s right. Have you heard something already?” Charity blurted and then kicked herself mentally for her stupid comment.
“Heard something? About what?” The woman was genuinely puzzled by Charity’s comment.
“I was just wondering how you knew I ate at the boardinghouse unless someone had told you I was eating at the boardinghouse cafe.” Charity tried to smooth over her blunder.
“Oh. No. It’s just that my bread and pastries are served over there and it’s where everyone goes when they want a good meal.” Selina smiled and busied herself with straightening the contents of the counter while they talked.
“I see. Well, yes. It was a very good meal and the company was especially scrumptious.” Scrumptious? Where the hell had that word come from? The man she dined with this morning was anything but scrumptious. He was—handsome, but there was no spark for her. The only man who made her weak at the knees was Miles and this woman could be the one standing in the way of her—their happy-ever-after. Man-stealer.
Charity needed to find out exactly what this woman meant to Miles and she was certain if she asked him, he would deny there was anything at all. It was what he did. Damn the man.
She had learned the art of subtext when acquiring knowledge from an unwilling source without their knowledge, but she didn’t have time to drag out this process. She needed answers now.
“So tell me, Selina, are you sweet on our town’s sheriff?” Diplomacy was not her strong suite.
Miles took his time making his morning rounds around town. He jiggled each locked door. Walked down every alley. Greeted every man, woman and child he passed by. But his mind’s eye was still watching Charity and her gentleman friend enjoying the hell out of their breakfast.
He looked at his pocket watch. Ten o’clock. He had stretched out his morning rounds long enough. He wasn't due back to the jail until supper, but he could use the distraction of his work. He turned in the direction of the jail when a voice called out from behind.
“Hey, Sheriff. How about a cup of coffee?” He turned to see Doc Howard walking toward him.
“Hey, Doc. Sorry, I’ve had a belly full of coffee this morning. Too much makes me jittery, and there's nothing worse than a lawman with a jittery finger on a loaded gun with the authority to shoot," he joked although it wasn't too far off the mark when he thought about the man with Charity this morning.
“No problem. You gotta coffee pot in your office? After all these years of practicing medicine at all hours of the night, I’m not a picky coffee drinker.” Doc grinned and slapped him on the back.
“Yeah, sure. I’ve got a pot. Come on.” Miles led the way. He and doc entered the jail. Bishop was sitting behind Miles’ desk going through wanted posters. “Still no luck at finding out who our prisoner is?” Miles hung his hat on the wooden peg by the door.
Bishop vacated the chair behind the desk and nodded hello to the doctor. “Nope. The man’s not talking and there isn’t a poster with his face on it. At
least, not yet.” He spoke loud so the prisoner could hear in the next room. “We’re gonna find out who you are, Tumbleweed. Ain’t no question about it.”
Miles smiled at his deputy. "Why don't you take a break. Walk around town. Visit Charlotte over at the Holy Moses. Doc's gonna check on his patient and then have a cup of that stuff you call coffee."
His deputy laughed. "Hey, that's the good stuff. You should have tasted the stuff I grew up on. Now that's some strong, coffee. Hell, a spoon could stand up in it with no help at all." Bishop grabbed his hat off the wooden peg next to Miles’ hat by the door. “I’ll be back after lunch.” And closed the door behind him.
Miles gathered the wanted posters spread across his desk and stacked them to the side. “Now, how about that coffee?”
Doc pulled up a chair in front of Miles’ desk and Miles carried two cups of chipped ceramic cups to his desk.
“Here you go. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He took his cup to the business side of his desk and took a sip. Doc did the same.
He studied the man sitting across from him for a couple of seconds. The man was a mystery. He’d been the doctor of Creede and the surrounding area for about five years now, but no one really knew much about him. His past. His family—if he had any. The man was a confirmed bachelor. He ran nearly as fast as Miles did when matrimonial-minded mommas came calling for their awkward daughters.
“Okay, Doc. You've got your coffee. Now, tell me what’s on your mind?” He sat his cup down and leaned his forearms against the desk to give the doc his full attention.
Doc grinned over his cup of coffee. “Now, what makes you think there’s something on my mind, sheriff? Can’t a man share a good morning cup of coffee with a friend?”
Miles shook his head. “Yeah, but this is a first. I can’t be a lawman this long and live to tell about it by ignoring my instincts and my instincts are tellin’ me you’ve got something on your mind.”
Doc set his coffee cup down on the desk and sat back in his chair. He made a show of getting settled. He rested his ankle over his knee, his elbows on the rounded wooden arms of the bow-backed chair and intertwined his fingers like he was plannin’ on being here for a time.
Miles grinned. “Now I know you’ve got somethin’ on your mind 'cause it looks like you're plannin' to stay a spell. Spill it, Doc. You've never been one to mince words.” Miles prodded him to speak what was on his mind.
“Very well. What I’m wondering is if Miss Montgomery’s return to Creede has upset your apple cart, Miles.” Yep, the man wasn’t one to mince words alright. Miles considered his answer before he spoke. What did Charity’s return to Creede mean for him? Not a damn thing he reminded himself.
“I don’t have an apple cart.” His answer was short and he hoped it would deter the man sitting across from him from further conversation on the subject.
“Well, rumors around town say you do. It seems that Selina Watson has set her cap for you and she’s made that fact crystal clear. I just wondered what’s gonna happen when Calamity Jane, also known as the red-headed she-devil, finds out her claim on you has been jumped.”
Miles stood and paced. “There is no claim on me. By Selina. Or Charity. I don’t do married, Doc. You know that. Besides, they’ve met already.”
Doc’s dark brown eyes sparkled with interest. “Is that right? I find that hard to believe, especially since no one sent for my medical services. The last time Charity was in town, I seem to remember an out and out brawl in the middle of the street. And that wasn’t even about you. That was about Charity defending her sister’s claim on her then beau, Billy Buchanan if I’m remembering correctly. I can’t even imagine the wrath of that red-head if she thought someone was stepping in between you and her affections.”
“Well, believe it.” Miles snipped. He raked his fingers through his overlong hair and inhaled a deep breath to calm his nerves. “Calamity—damn it, Doc—I mean Charity—Miss Montgomery paid me a visit this morning and Selina brought me her usual basket full of fresh baked bread. And they…met.”
“Ah yes. Selina and her famous fresh baked bread. You wouldn’t be the first man to succumb to a gastrointestinal feast.”
“I’m not succumbing to anything, especially bread. I’m familiar with the saying that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but you forget—I don’t have a heart remember?” Miles offered the man his best glare for emphasis.
“Right. I’ve heard that sentiment before—just prior to a trip down the church aisle to see a minister.”
Miles snorted. “Well, that ain’t me, Doc.” He picked up his cup of cold coffee and dumped the contents into the piss bucket in the corner. He poured himself another cup and took his seat again. “Now maybe you should tell me why you are so interested in my love life. Got your heart set on somebody?” Miles tried to steer the conversation way from his personal life, but Doc wasn’t ready to let it go.
“No, as you said, I’m not the marring kind. I’ve seen John Malone marry Grace. And I’ve seen Liam and Billy marry Faith and Hope. I suppose I’m waiting to see how you and Charity are going to end up. She’s had her cap set for you since the day she walked into town. I’ve never seen her fail at something she set her mind on. And that may include you, Miles.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking’ about?” He didn’t like where this conversation was going again. “I have my own mind and I make my own decisions. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do, Doc, I think I’ll get to it.”
“The more you protest, the more I know I’m right. Look, I hope you consider me a friend, Miles. Someone you can talk to. And from where I’m sitting, you’ve had feelings for Charity Montgomery from the first day she arrived and—”
“Well, you need to find a new seat then because—” Miles stuttered.
Doc held up one hand. “Wait. Hear me out.”
Miles shoved back in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. “I’ll give you the courtesy of hearing you out, but that’s all. Just a courtesy you understand.”
Doc grinned again and it was starting to irritate Miles. The man acted as if Miles was a lovestruck greenhorn who followed his manhood instead of his brain. He hadn’t survived ten years of being a lawman by not using his good sense.
“You can deny your feelings for Charity all you want to, but anyone who’s paying attention can see you look at her that way.
“There ain’t no 'that way' and if anyone looking thinks otherwise, then they are the fool. And that includes you, Doc. No insult intended.”
“None taken." Doc stood and refilled his cup of coffee. Miles was hoping the man would tire of his game and examine the prisoner. But no such luck.
Doc sat back down and took a sip before he continued. “Miles, you keep denying what’s right in front of you, but you have feelings for Charity and the more you deny them, the stronger they are gonna get. And there’s gonna be an explosion that is gonna blow your world apart.”
Miles thought about what Doc was trying to tell him. Hell, it wasn’t something he hadn’t already thought of. That’s why he couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow Charity to be a part of his life. It would be more than an explosion. It would be catastrophic and he had already lived through catastrophic.
5
Charity sat at her vanity in her upstairs front bedroom of the Hanovers’ beautiful home and prepared for her welcome home party. She wanted to present a picture of a sweet, educated, refined woman. After all, wasn’t that the kind of woman Miles wanted?
Thoughts of her visit to the bakery this morning made her want to smash something. Unable to resist the urge, she threw her silver plated brush across the room hitting the wall.
“Is it safe to come in?” Her sister Grace called from the half opened door.
“Grace, it’s so good to see you.” She rushed to greet her oldest adopted sister. “It’s been much too long.” She pulled her fair-haired sister into her arms and they hugged for a moment until she felt a tug on
her petticoats. She pulled away and looked down at the little girl standing next to her. “And who might this little impish creature be?”
Grace reached down and picked up the little girl. “This is Abbie Rose. This is your Aunt Charity.”
The little girl looked just like her mother. Charity couldn’t believe how much she had grown. “Oh my, Grace. She’s getting so grownup. I just can’t believe it.”
"And I can't believe how you've grown up. Charity. You are stunning. Where have you been hiding all of…this?" Grace looked genuinely shocked as she took in Charity's appearance.
"Nonsense, it was always there. I just dusted it off and covered it with a pretty dress. That's all." She was still coming to terms with learning to accept compliments gracefully. She had always made jokes when people said nice things to her because she didn’t trust their sincerity. One of the hazards of growing up in an orphanage with bullies she supposed.
Besides, she was still the same person after all. Her so-called 'improvements' were just window dressing. She was still the same old Charity on the inside and she had grown to like her independent nature, but Miles wanted something different. So, different she was going to be.
Abbie Rose held up four fingers. “I’m four now.” The little girl grew suddenly shy and hid her face against her mother’s neck.
“Four? That’s almost impossible to believe. Grace, she’s beautiful.” Charity felt the sting of tears as her emotions reminded her how good it was to be home among her family. And these people were her family even though they shared not one drop of connected blood.
“Hey, where is everyone?” Her sister Faith called from the doorway.
Charity turned and greeted sister Number Two. Her dark-haired, dark-eyed, brown-skinned sister entered the room with a red-headed little girl on her hip. “Oh my goodness. That can’t be Baby Mary, can it?” Charity couldn’t believe her eyes. “Why she was only a few months old when I left for school.”
Charity (Brides of the Rio Grande Book 4) Page 5