What the hell was bothering him?
He set the boards and toolbox down and put his hands on his hips, surveying the fort. Nothing looked out of place. He scratched the back of his neck and scowled at whatever was bothering him. Eli relied on his instincts, something he’d learned from Charlie when they hunted.
Charlie.
As soon as she popped into his head, he knew whatever it was scratching at him involved her. He ran toward the Bennetts’ cabin, heedless of how he appeared. His heart thundered with fear for Charlie. He slammed into Charlie’s cabin only to find it empty. His mouth went as dry as dirt. She must have gone hunting without him.
Charlie supported herself with her hunting. There was no reason for her to cease looking for game because she didn’t want him with her. Eli knew he was an idiot, but if his behavior caused her harm, he’d never forgive himself.
He turned and headed the woods, to the spot she always entered the trees. No matter if she had her gelding with her, he would find her. Eli would always find her. The ten-minute run seemed to take an hour.
Eli skidded in the heavy leaves and pine needles in the woods but kept his balance by grabbing hold of the trunk of a tree. The bark bit into his hands as he catapulted himself forward. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed from somewhere ahead of him. He picked up speed.
When he spotted a figure coming toward him, he at first could not determine what he was seeing in the dappled sunlit forest. He slowed his steps and anger pushed the fear side.
“You fucking bastard!” Eli gaped at Gunther, who carried Charlie in his arms, the left side of her face a mass of blood. Rage obliterated good sense, and Eli rushed toward them. Gunther stopped, his grip tight on Charlie’s inert form.
“You’ll hurt her.” The big man’s voice was deep and guttural.
“Give her to me!” Eli held out his arms, his body vibrating with the need to hurt this monster the way he’d hurt her. “You’ve no right!”
“I didn’t hurt her. She’s a good girl.” Gunther gently slipped Charlie into Eli’s hold.
The weight in Eli’s arms was welcome. “If you didn’t hurt her, who did?”
“Two blue coats. She got one in the shoulder with her pistol.” Gunther looked down into her bloodied face. “She’s a fighter.”
Eli took a step backward. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? I don’t even know you.” The other man had rarely spoken to anyone at the fort. He had a past with the Chastain sisters and that made him dangerous.
“I never hurt her.” Gunther reached his hand toward Charlie and then dropped his arm. “I protect her.”
“You need to tell me who hurt her, but for now I need to get her back to the fort so her sister can doctor her.” Eli noted the interest in Gunther’s face at the mention of Isabelle.
“The angel will fix her.” Gunther didn’t make much sense, leaving more questions than answers.
Eli had no more time to think about the big man. Charlie needed him. The sight of her bloody, beautiful face made him want to puke. While he wanted to run, he walked back toward the fort trying not to jostle her. Gunther followed them, but Eli did his best to ignore him.
“I’ve got you, honey,” Eli whispered under his breath. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
He should have been there beside her. No matter what, or how foolishly they argued, he belonged by her side. Mason had been right.
It seemed as though hours passed as he made his way back to the fort while her blood stained his shirt, and she remained unconscious. When he walked through the gate, a few folks stopped to stare, but he ignored them, his pace increasing.
By the time he reached the Bennetts’ cabin, he was running. She still hadn’t woken up and it scared the hell out of him. He looked back at Gunther. “Find Isabelle.”
Not bothering to see if the big man obeyed, Eli pushed the door open to Charlie’s small cabin. His breath in his throat, he laid her down on her bed.
“I’m sorry this happened, Charlie. I’ll kill whoever hurt you.” He poured water from a pitcher into a basin, then rooted around for a clean rag and dipped it in the water. With more care than he thought he had, he cleaned the blood from her face. Her freckles stood out against the pale whiteness. Bruises had already begun to form on her cheek in the shape of a fist. Her lip was split and blood trickled from the wound.
“What did he do to you?” Eli’s throat tightened. “My sweet girl.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “What the hell did you call me?”
Eli managed a strangled chuckle. He cupped her chin with a shaking hand. It was the first time he felt huge compared to Charlie. She was always so independent and tough. Right about now, she looked anything but.
“My sweet girl.” He kissed her forehead, breathing in her familiar scent. “I’m an idiot.”
She tried to smile, but she sucked in a pained breath. “I know you’re an idiot.” She closed her eyes. “What about those fucking bastards who ambushed me? Did you kill them?”
Eli’s tenderness vanished. “Who did it? Gunther isn’t saying much.”
Her eyes flew open. “Gunther stopped them? Not you?”
He grimaced. “I was too late to stop them. I’m sorry for that and for being an idiot. I won’t leave your side again.”
“I don’t—well, for now that isn’t important. I told Gunther to go away. He didn’t listen.” She scowled. “I guess I’ll have to thank him.”
“Charlie!” Isabelle flew through the door, her medical bag in her hand. “What happened?” Isabelle looked at Eli, panic on her beautiful face.
“I was just about to find out.” He got to his feet and stood back so Charlie’s sister could tend to her wounds.
“Who punched you?” Isabelle glared at Eli. He threw up his hands in surrender.
“I have never and never will hit her. I love her.” Eli hadn’t meant to reveal that piece of information while they weren’t alone, but it came out anyway.
Charlie’s eyes widened. “Eli didn’t hurt me. It was two soldiers. A taller, thin one named Volner and a short, fat one. I didn’t get his name, but he’s the one who punched me. Mad I let him get the drop on me.”
The rage that Eli had pushed aside came surging back into his heart. “Fucking Volner.”
Isabelle frowned at him, but she didn’t chastise him. “I’ll let you take care of that. I need to take care of her.”
Charlie’s gaze found his and Eli fell into her eyes. She was everything to him. Everything. “I’ll be back later.” He kissed her forehead. “I promise I will always be here for you.”
She blinked and he swore her eyes were wet with unshed tears. It was probably just the pain.
Eli left Charlie’s cabin with revenge on his mind and white fury in his heart.
Charlie stared at the flickering flame in the lantern until her eyes stung. Isabelle had finally left her alone after fussing for a few hours, nearly force-feeding her soup. Not that Charlie didn’t appreciate being cared for, but there came a point when it had to stop.
Her jaw and cheek throbbed in tune with her pulse. She’d refused any laudanum. When Eli returned, she wanted a clear head. He’d said he loved her. Loved her. What that meant or how she should react was a mystery. It was the last thing she expected to hear, even if Isabelle had encouraged Charlie to admit she loved Eli.
She still wasn’t sure how she felt, but to hear Eli say it so boldly frightened her. After the fight in the woods with the two soldiers, she wasn’t prepared to figure out how to reply. She was glad when he’d left, but then worry settled on her heart when she realized he was out there hunting Volner and the other soldier. Eli was strong, but there were two of them.
He was a man of many talents, but was fighting one of them? There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do if he put his mind to it. Anytime she asked him to help her, he was alwa
ys there and managed to figure out just what to do. He had always been there for her, no matter how badly she might have treated him.
Soon she was awash in memories of how many times he had been beside her through good times and bad. He was her life partner and she hadn’t allowed herself to ever acknowledge it. Without Eli, she would not be who she was. He was family.
He loved her.
Charlie sat up in her bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. Was Isabelle right? Did she love Eli? The darkness of her past had forced her to lock away her emotions. They had been padlocked for so long, she didn’t think she could let them out again. Now circumstances pushed her to decide if she was willing to try.
It was hard. So very hard. Facing those two men today made her confront the fact she did need others, the people who cared about her. She was not invincible, nor could she expect to live her life alone. She needed her family and her best friend. She was the one who allowed herself to be alone, keeping everyone at a distance. Including Eli.
When the knock came on her door, she nearly jumped a foot off the bed. It took two attempts to clear her throat. “Who is it?”
“Eli.”
“It’s about goddamn time.” She hopped out of bed, ignoring the fact she only wore a nightgown and that she was lightheaded, and marched to the door. She yanked it open prepared to shout at him, tell him he should have talked to Kenneth about the soldiers, make sure he knew not to put himself into danger again.
The words crowded in her mouth and none could escape. Instead of doing what she intended to do, Charlie threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears for the first time in more than ten years.
Eli froze in place, shocked to his bones not only to have Charlie in his arms willingly, but because she was crying. Not a pretty, feminine weeping. Nope, she sobbed and noisily snuffled snot.
He scooped her into his arms, murmuring, “I reckon I should get used to this.”
She cried harder at his weak attempt at humor. He sat down in the rocking chair he’d made for her years go, tucking her beneath his chin. He probably should do something gentlemanly like give her the handkerchief in his pocket, but he couldn’t reach it. His shirt would have to suffice for her tears and her nose.
Her warm weight felt perfect in his lap. She conformed to his body as though she were made to be there. The scent of pine and all that was Charlie flooded his senses. She was in obvious pain and he was so very glad she had turned to him.
Later on, he would think about what it meant. For now, he would let her be safe and be herself. He rubbed her back and rocked gently. The lamplight cast the small cabin in a golden glow making things cozy, intimate.
“What h-happened?” she stuttered out.
“I couldn’t find them. Fucking sons of bitches. They weren’t in the barracks or anywhere else.” Eli was frustrated to not find his quarry. He wanted to kill them more than he wanted to avoid prison.
“I w-was worried.”
He absorbed that bit of information, his heart performing a weird kick. “Thank you for that. I don’t know that anyone other than my Ma worries about me. Or cries when they see me.”
“I-I n-never c-cry.” She shook from head to toe and Eli tightened his hold on her.
“I realize that. You’re stronger than any person I know.”
She tried to laugh, but it came out as a wail. “N-not strong. Weak. So w-weak like a baby.”
“Not hardly.” He pressed his lips to her hair, its curls tickling his cheek.
“Y-you don’t know. Y-you c-can’t know.” She hiccupped and sucked in a shaky breath. She still wept, but the sobs began to subside. “I’m a little girl pretending to be all grown up, but I’m not. I’m not! I want Maman.”
The anguish in her voice tore at Eli’s heart. He knew she’d lost her parents at the same time, but he didn’t know many details. Whatever happened, it was eating her alive from the inside out. His eyes stung while his throat tightened with emotion.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m always here for you.” He continued to rock while she cried quietly. The shoulder of his shirt was soaked with her tears, precious drops of her pain that he wanted to abolish.
“I can’t tell anyone or the darkness will come.” She spoke into his chest. “I’ve kept it locked away for so long.” Her voice had dropped to a husky whisper, echoing ancient pain into the quiet of the room.
Eli had to convince her to trust him. He had to confide his darkest secret, open his locked door into the darkness he’d hidden away. There was no other way—he loved her.
“Did you know I was from New York? A little town called Brewster. My dad was a minister. He decided to go west to Oregon and spread the Lord’s good work.” Eli’s chest tightened. “I was old enough to know my father was a two-faced bastard who preached love and forgiveness and beat his wife and son every night.”
Charlie grew still. She was listening. He had to keep going.
“I knew how to duck and hide, but sometimes he caught me anyway. When we were on the wagon train, he had to be on his best behavior, but he still managed to break my wrist.” Eli resisted the urge to rub the old injury. “Told the rest of the pioneers I had slipped and fallen. Not unbelievable, considering how gangly and clumsy I am.”
“You’re not either,” she mumbled against his shoulder.
He raised one brow. “Then you’re blind. It doesn’t matter what people thought of me. They barely noticed me because Reverend Sylvester was handsome, smart and charming. The bastard used to cane me if I didn’t meet his high standards. He was a bully and I gave in to it every fucking time.” Shame raced through him and he was once again a twelve-year-old boy who couldn’t stand up for himself.
Charlie raised her head to look at him, her hazel eyes full of concern. Her face was blotchy and wet with tears. She cupped his cheek and he closed his eyes.
“What happened?” she asked.
“We’d reached here one late summer night and he was arranging a Sunday service for the pioneers and the folks at the fort.” Eli had to swallow twice before the lump dislodged. “What most didn’t know was that he loved women and they loved him. All the time. One of the wives was helping him with his sermon when her husband found them, naked and tangled in each other’s arms. The man shot them both dead and then himself.”
Charlie sucked in a breath. “Holy hell.”
“If there is a hell, he’s there. He was an evil man pretending to be a man of God and I’m glad he’s dead.” Eli hesitated and she sat up straighter.
“Tell me.”
“I told the man, Mr. Baumgarner, where they were and what they were doing. I sent my father’s killer to murder him.” Eli tasted bile as he admitted his crime. “Because of me, he’s dead. I buried him in a deep hole and didn’t put up a marker. My mother never said anything, but she knew. She knew what I did.”
Eli had told the story like he was vomiting up the thorniest, darkest part of his soul. He was responsible for three deaths, including his father’s, and he would have to live with that crime for the rest of his life. To his relief, Charlie didn’t shrink away and her reaction was one of caring, not disgust.
“Oh Eli, you didn’t kill him. People reap what they sow. If he was as goddamn evil as all that, he deserved far worse than being shot.” She pulled up the sleeve of her nightgown and wiped her face. “Fucking bastard.”
Eli smiled sadly. “He wasn’t a pious preacher.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t have a papa like mine. He was the best that ever was. Papa was smart, patient, loving and had a special nickname for each of his daughters.” Charlie’s gaze drifted away, full of memories of her father who was obviously a far better man than his own.
“You were chipmunk.”
She shook her head. “Tamia. I didn’t like it when I was little, but it was a special bond between us. Maman loved all her
daughters equally, but Papa, he spent more time with me than my sisters. When he died, I was holding his hand. His life slipped away in a breath. When he was gone, I shook him as if I could shake him awake.” This time her tears didn’t fall, but rather brimmed in her eyes. “I lost both of them in one day.”
“I’m sorry.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m glad you have your sisters.”
“I only had Isabelle then, and when the Beckers took us, I had no one.” Her voice grew quiet again and he knew he was close to finding out what was eating her alive. “Camille and Karl were evil, disgusting people. They pretended to be a family, but they weren’t. She introduced him as her son.” Charlie laughed without humor. “He was her partner in the darkest dregs of life. It’s an insult to human beings to call them human. I couldn’t stop them, but I damn well tried until…one day I gave in. But before they finished with me, we managed to escape.”
Eli knew something had happened to Charlie, but he didn’t know it involved a woman and her supposed son. He was horrified, furious. His body must have tightened because she tried to scramble from his lap. He held tight.
“No, you’re not running from me.” He took hold of her chin and stared into her beautiful eyes. “I love you, Charlotte Marie Chastain. I will never stop. No matter what.”
“You can’t! You can’t love me! I’m damaged inside and out. I won’t ever be able to be whole.” Her voice shook with self-loathing.
“And you can’t tell me what to do. I love you, do you hear me? I love you.” He kissed her soft lips. “You, scars and all.”
This time her tears flowed freely, but she kissed him back.
Charlie floated between pain and pleasure. Her face ached from the blows she’d received, but Eli’s lips were so warm, inviting, softer than she expected. His mouth moved slowly over hers, tasting, touching but not pressing for more.
He held her loosely and she could easily break free. He was Eli, the man she trusted more than any other human being. He loved her. Ridiculous as that was, he’d repeated it. She didn’t know whether to punch him or throw up her arms in delight.
The Gem: The Malloy Family, Book 12 Page 7