by Nan O'Berry
Levi shook his head. “No, my daughter is…” He paused.
Stone waited for him to finish.
“Awe well, nothing.” Levi waved his hand dismissing the conversation. “I need a few things from the General Store.”
“Want me to go get them?”
“Yes, come with me and I’ll give you the list along with the money.”
Minutes later, Stone was out the door and headed over to the general store. He glanced down at the list. “Sugar, flour, grits, coffee, Mrs. Hawkins must be planning on a lot of people showing up for the party.” He turned the list over. “Nails, six boxes of shells.” He took a deep breath. Yep, it sounded like Mr. Hawkins was taking precaution as well. Something brushed his shoulder. Stone glanced up to find Charity standing in front of him.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
The radiance of her smile warmed him. “Morning.”
They stood gazing at each other.
Stone had no intention of moving.
“So, going to the general store?”
He nodded. Then, lifting the note, he remarked, “Mrs. Hawkins needed some things. For the party,” he added.
“Yes, the party.”
He watched a coy smile dance across her lips as she gazed down. “You excited?”
She lifted her head and he could see her eyes dance. “Yes, ever so much. I can’t wait.”
“Pardon,” a voice sounded from behind him.
Stone turned to see Mrs. Davidson moving toward the store. Her eyes lighted upon Charity and he watched her bristle.
If she saw it, Charity pretended not to notice. Instead, her smile softened. “Mrs. Davidson, it is good to see you.”
The woman gave a tight lipped nod of her head.
“I hope you’re husband’s doing better.”
Elsie Davidson’s eyes narrowed and shot daggers at the woman to Stone’s right. Her shoulders jerked back as if she had been struck. “My husband is doing as well as can be expected considering the incident in the Crystal Dawn.”
“Mrs. Davidson,” Stone tried to hush her terse words.
She gave him a cutting glare. “I do not approve of my husband’s passion for cards,” she explained. “Mr. Mills tells me you at least attempted to save his life.”
Charity expression exposed her vulnerable nature. Eyes wide and rounded, she reached out to touch the woman’s arm in an expression of condolence.
Elsie Davidson drew her arm away.
“Mrs. Davidson,” Charity began.
“If you will excuse me Mr. Stone.”
Charity’s jaw grew slack as she stared at the woman walking away.
“Charity.”
She turned her head and tilted it upwards. There was no doubting the wounded look in her eyes.
He watched as they filled with tears.
“Stone.” Her voice had a quiver that threatened her composure.
“Ah, Charity,” he groaned and encircled her shoulders with his arm to pull her close. “Don’t let her words hurt your heart, darling.”
Charity leaned against him drawing from his strength.
“Her husband is hurt. She’s upset, maybe not at you, but you were the first one she saw.”
Her head brushed against the cotton of his shirt as she nodded.
Stone let a moment pass, then placing a hand beneath her chin; he tilted her head to face him. “Come on. Don’t let that spoil the day. Let’s go to the general store.
Charity stood off to the side and watched as Stone went about collecting the items for the Pony Express station. Turning her head, she caught the curious stare of one of the women at counter with sewing goods. Behind their bonnets, there were whispers and dark looks. She turned her attention back to the man beside her. McMasters’ words echoed in her mind. They won’t accept you. She cast a hesitant look to the group once more and the ladies were quick to look away. The actions stung.
“Charity?”
Stone’s voice brought her back to the present. She turned and gave a slight grin.
“Charity, did you want something?”
“Oh, yes.” She pulled at the strings of her reticule. “I need a few things, some sewing needles, a bar of soap, and some ribbon.” Digging into the opening, she pulled out a bit of folded cash. “Can you tell me how much this will cost?”
Paddy O’Neil scratched his forehead, and then he reached back to pulled his pencil from its resting place behind his ear. “Let me see, sewing needles, soap.” He glanced up. “How much ribbon?”
Charity took a deep breath. “I need about five yards of two inch green and about eighteen inches of a deep red, please.”
“I got some nice ribbon but they have different prices. Would you like to see them?”
“Yes, I would.”
He put his pencil down and walked around the counter rubbing his fingers across his apron. “Let me get it for you.”
Both, Charity and Stone stood watch as he moved toward the sewing good.
The gaggle of ladies parted.
“Cuse me, Mrs. Davidson, Mrs. Parker.” He walked past and pulled a wooden rod with ten different colors and types of ribbon then holding it with both hands, he moved back toward Charity and Stone. “Here you go. Lots of pretty ribbon for a pretty lady.”
Charity lowered her head. Stepping forward, she reached out and touched two different ribbons.
Stone watched.
“I think, this would do,” she murmured.
“This is the five yards?”
She nodded.
“And the red?”
Pressing her lips together, she glanced at the hues in mention. “I think this one.” Her fingers caressed the deep forest green that sat in the center.
“I don’t know,” Stone spoke up.
Charity eyed him with curiosity. “You like another?”
Stone grinned. “I think I like this one.” Reaching out, he pulled the satin ribbon the deep color of emerald toward her face. “I think it matches your magnificent eyes.”
Charity swallowed as a blush crept up her cheeks.
“Now that you mention it…” Patty nodded.
“Patrick O’Neil,” a woman’s voice sharply split the quiet making them all jump. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Now, Clare, my darling.” He grinned, even though an uncomfortable blush made his ruddy cheeks a deeper shade of scarlet. “I’m selling this nice, young lass some goods.”
“Young lass,” Clare snuffed. “Let me take over. You go help Mrs. Davidson. Her husband is laid up and she needs to get home to take care of him.”
Charity looked at the ground as Clare took over the sale.
“You wanted ribbon?”
Charity nodded. She pointed to the red ribbon and to the green that Stone picked out.
“How much?” Clare O’Neil asked.
Stone repeated the measurements.
Clare put the ribbon aside and with brisk yanks of the strand, she measured out the amount needed. “What else?”
“Needles and soap,” Charity whispered not bothering to look up.
Clare hurried to the shelves, pulled the items, and put them on the counter. “Anything else?”
“No.”
Clare turned her attention to Stone. “And you?”
Stone pointed to the items in the box. “Already purchased.”
Clare’s glare went back to Charity. “That’s two dollars and sixty four cents.”
Fumbling with her money, Charity pulled out three dollars and placed them on the counter.
Clare waited until her fingers withdrew before snatching the money and moving to the cashbox to retrieve her change. “Here you go.” Putting the change on the counter, she pushed it toward Charity. “I’ll wrap this up for you.”
Charity pulled the coins into her palm and put it into her purse.
“Charity,” Stone whispered.
She shook her head. It was too difficult to talk. Saying anything would call attention to her
self. Outside, where the world didn’t care, she could talk to Stone and be something other than a soiled dove.
“Here you go.” Clare shoved the hastily wrapped package toward Charity, who gathered it close.
“Thanks, Patty,” Stone called as he pulled the box to his chest, pointedly ignoring Patty’s rude wife.
Together, they made their way toward the door.
Charity opened it for him to exit. She was about to close the door when she heard Mrs. Davidson utter some damning words.
“How dare she? Bold as brass tacks. Shopping here like she was one of us.”
“Disgraceful if you ask me,” Mrs. Parker echoed.
Charity closed the door.
“Hey, are you all right?” Stone asked.
She glanced over to Stone and saw the deep furrows along his brow. Plastering a smile on her face, she dismissed the hurt. “Fine,” she lied. “Let’s go to the relay station.”
Stone led Charity up the steps to the kitchen door of the Hawkins house. Shifting the box in his arms, he wrangled the knob and pushed.
“Hello the house,” he called.
“Stone?” Mrs. Hawkins voice welcomed him. She moved to where he could see her.
The warmth of the kitchen and the smell of hot bread made his stomach growl.
“Oh, you have the supplies. Bring them in.”
Stone stepped inside and held the door open. “I brought a friend.” With a tilt of his head, he motioned for Charity to peek around the corner. He watched her hesitate. “Come on, she won’t bite.”
Charity’s eyes softened. She leaned around the opening. “Hello.”
“You remember Charity Mitchell, don’t you?”
Mrs. Hawkins broke into a huge smile. “Of course, I do. Come in, child.”
With timid steps, Charity entered.
Stone closed the door behind them.
Olivia Hawkins picked up a dish towel and wiped her hands before stepping forward to embrace Charity. “It is so good to see you.” She held her at arm’s length. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate you taking a stand for Wyeth.”
Charity glanced to Stone before returning Olivia’s smile. “I am glad I could do it.”
Mrs. Hawkins glanced to Stone. “Don’t just stand there; put the box on the counter.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As he moved to follow her directions, Mrs. Hawkins led Charity to the kitchen table. “Sit down and we’ll have a cup of coffee together.”
“I’d like that,” Charity agreed. “How is Whitney feeling?”
Mrs. Hawkins motioned for Charity to pick a chair. “He’s still running a fever,” she mentioned moving toward the cabinet where the stoneware was kept. “Anna has been with him all day long. I sent her to visit a friend just to get her out. She took some of my cinnamon rolls with her, but I happen to have a few left. Would you like one?”
Charity nodded.
“Stone?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He hurried over, drew out a chair next to Charity, and plopped down. Leaning over, he whispered, “Those cinnamon rolls are great.”
Mrs. Hawkins beamed with pride as she poured coffee in to three mugs. “Thank you.” She brought the mugs over and placed them on the table.
Stone watched as she moved to the stove and pulled a pan from the warmer. The smell of butter, vanilla, and cinnamon filled the air. He closed his eyes and groaned with pleasure as she placed them in the center of the wooden surface.
Stepping back, she pulled three small plates from the cabinet and gathered the utensils from the mug beneath. “It’s not much, but sometimes a little sweet is just right on a cold day.”
“It smells heavenly,” Charity agreed.
Stone waited as Mrs. Hawkins slid a knife beneath the rolls and set one on each plate, then slide them toward her guests.
“Go on,” he urged Charity, handing her a fork.
Charity took the fork and pressed it against the golden brown side of the yeast roll. Cutting off a piece she took a bite. Her eyes widened. She glanced at Stone.
“Good?”
She nodded.
“I must say that my baked goods won a few prizes back at the fair in Virginia.” Picking up her mug, she looked over the rim at Charity. “So, Stone tells me you’re coming to the party Saturday.”
Charity nodded. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“I’m thrilled.” Olivia smiled. “We ladies have to stick together. We have far fewer opportunities to meet and talk in the winter months.”
Charity looked at the table before glancing back. “I’m leaving the Crystal Dawn.”
Both Stone and Olivia Hawkins took a deep breath.
“Leaving?” Stone asked.
Charity nodded. “I asked Mr. McMasters to let me go. I can’t do it any longer, not after Mr. Davidson getting hurt. Being a saloon girl isn’t for me.”
Stone felt so relived at hearing this.
Olivia’s smile grew. “I haven’t walked in your shoes. I can’t judge what you have done. However, I have seen your heart. You stepped up for a young man not because you had to; you did it because it was the right thing to do. That tells me a lot about you, Charity. I for one and am thrilled about your new direction.”
“Thank you.”
Olivia expression turned thoughtful. “Stone is a good judge of people. He seems quite taken with you. That’s good enough for me.”
Charity tipped her chin toward her chest and shifted her gaze to Stone who pretended to study the cup of coffee before him. “So, you’re a good judge of character, huh?”
Stone looked over at her. Their eyes met and something passed between them that left him breathless. “Yes,” he replied when his mouth remembered how to speak. “I am and what I see is all good.”
Pretending not to notice the exchange of words between the two younger people, Olivia spoke up, “You know, Stone, there are abandoned cabins over near the river behind the Crystal Dawn. Perhaps, you could help Charity fix one up to live in.”
“I would have to find way to pay for it.” Charity nodded, but the excitement was evident in her voice.
“What skills do you have, other than….” Olivia grew silent. She had the decency to blush.
“You mean other than dealing cards and pouring whiskey?”
Olivia’s eyes softened. “I didn’t mean anything, dear.”
“I know,” Charity replied in an attempt to ease the older woman’sgaffe. “It’s okay; it really was a viable question.” She took a breath and pondered Olivia’s question. Her eyes widened. “I know. I am quite good with a needle.”
Olivia lifted her cup. “Well, we could always use a good seamstress or a good laundry where mending is needed. Lord knows being around some of these men, you want to carry a handkerchief dunked in rose water.”
Charity thought about the smells from the open hall where men played cards and came straight in from the mines or the ranches bringing with them the odors. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. “Yes, I understand what you mean, but I think I like the idea of a seamstress,” she repeated the words with a deepening excitement.
“Oh, there would be lots of just mending things. Men are so hard on clothing.”
Stone scowled. “I’m not sure men should be visiting Charity’s shop.”
She smiled. “I haven’t gotten a shop yet, I’d have to do it out of my home.”
Olivia winked.
Laughing, they talked for a few more minutes before Charity spoke, “I have enjoyed my afternoon, but I fear I have kept you from your baking.”
“Nonsense.” Olivia smiled. “I’ve enjoyed having young people stop by.
“I must be getting back. There will be dishes to wash before the Crystal Dawn opens.”
Stone stood and moved to the back of her chair, helping her to stand.
“Come back, won’t you?” Olivia asked as she walked with them to the door.
Turning to face her, Charity smiled. “I’d love to.”
“Good.” Olivia reached out and touched her arm. “I am so looking forward to seeing you on Saturday. Stone don’t you forget to pick her up?”
“No ma’am.”
His warm voice filled her ears and warmed her heart. She felt his hand upon the small of her back as they waved one last goodbye and headed out into the yard. As they walked, Charity held her bundle of ribbon close to her heart. “Do you really think I could do this?” She glanced at the man beside her.
“You can do anything you put your mind to, Charity.”
She slipped her arm between his and looped her hand over. “You regard me too highly.”
His placed a protective hand over hers. “Perhaps, not highly enough.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
“Come here.” Stone led her to a secluded spot to the side of the barn next to the corral. He turned her toward him. “I’ve been waiting all day to do this.” Stepping closer, his gaze belonged only to her. She could see the rapid beat of his pulse in his neck.
She held her breath and waited until it became almost unbearable. Charity damped her lips as his head lowered toward hers. Once his mouth made it to hers, she melted against him. Warm, inviting, his arms encircled her body holding her close. Then his hands moved in a gentle massage along her back. The motion tugged at her desire. She found herself shocked by the eagerness of her response. This was the emotion she’d longed for. Much too soon, their lips parted. She breathed lightly and struggled to lift her lashes fearing the movement might break the spell.
As she gazed upwards into his face, the blue of Stone’s eyes was nearly the same shade as the night sky. His glance searched hers. She felt the brush of the calloused pads of his thumb across her cheek.
“May I be bold?”
She swallowed and gave a nod.
“Charity Mitchell, I feel I am falling in love with you.”
She closed her eyes savoring the sound of his declaration. He pulled her close and she placed her head upon his chest listening to the thunderous beat of his heart. Yes, yes, this was what she’d always longed for, to be loved in no unquestioning terms. She clutched at his jacket. “I-I feel the same, Stone.”
He tugged her closer and for a moment, they shut out the world.
Chapter 9