Chasing Charity (15 page)

After more than two months, waking up at the Lone Star Hotel still felt peculiar even after Mama moved in. Rather, especially after Mama moved in. The feisty rascal refused to share the room until she could pay her own way, but the minute she got the first oil company check, she turned up at Charity’s door with a bag of clothes and a stubborn mind-set. “Ain’t no daughter of mine living in a hotel by herself as long as I can help it,” she’d insisted. “Thaddeus Bloom would spin in his grave if he knew.”

Living with her in their spacious, high-ceilinged home had been challenge enough. Sharing a space no bigger than Rebel’s stall proved downright trying. Mama alternated between talking nonstop when awake and snoring down the rafters while she slept, so peace and rest became scarce in Charity’s life. For that reason, when an uncommon stillness settled over the room, she rolled over in bed to look around.

Her rowdy companion was gone, though a sleepy glance at the window told Charity the sun had barely risen. She yawned and stretched then swung her feet to the cold floor. Usually by the end of March the weather was warm, but a recent cool snap had penetrated the smooth boards, turning them to ice beneath her toes.

At home she kept a pair of Papa’s thick woolen socks in a dresser drawer for chilly mornings, but only heaven knew where they were now. Wearing them never failed to warm her heart right along with her feet, so she considered the lack of them one more casualty in a string of losses. She shuddered, picturing them mud-soaked and stretched over the big, smelly feet of a roughneck.

Not yet committed to rising, Charity reached behind her and pulled the warm blanket around her shoulders. She sighed, aware she’d awakened with the same confused feelings she’d taken to bed. Elation and despair, a miserable mix, fought for vantage in the pit of her stomach.

Last night, from out of nowhere, Mama announced they were going home. “Those men have searched for the bottom of that hole for nine weeks now,” she’d said. “If they ain’t found it yet, I expect they ain’t likely to. We’ll head out there first thing in the morning and tell them to clear out.”

The unexpected words had pierced Charity’s heart, unleashing a flood of forgiveness, relief, and joy. They were going home, to the house where she’d been born, to the only life she’d known before the specter of oil had curled sticky black fingers around Humble.

There was only one problem. The marauding invader employed a most agreeable representative in the person of Buddy Pierce.

During her stay at the hotel, Buddy had made a point to see Charity every day. Most evenings he made it back to town in time to clean up and take supper with her and Mama. If his work at the house detained him past their meal, he’d find some reason to knock on their door. For propriety’s sake, he and Charity would stand in the hallway and whisper or sit in a secluded corner of the lobby and talk until bedtime. Mama noticed his attention and delighted in teasing her.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Mama jerked open the door and swept in like a gusty wind. “Get up, little gal, and shake that floor,” she crowed. “Your old mama’s running circles around you already.” She came and perched on the side of the bed. “I’ve done been down to the livery and back. Hired us a rig for the trip out to the house. Ain’t nothing fancy, but it’ll get us there. The old man was hitching it up when I left. Said he’d deliver it to the hotel himself.” She gave Charity a sharp slap on the leg. “What do you think about that?”

Her boisterous mood at the early hour rattled Charity’s nerves.

She winced but offered a sleepy smile. “Morning, Mama,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Gracious, but you’re lively. How long have you been up?”

“Long enough to see your beau and his men leave for work before the cock ever crowed. He looked about as spry as you do. You two might want to consider trading some of that late-night talking for sleeping.”

The wound-up little woman crossed to the window and peered down to the street. “Wahoo! Come on, gal. The wagon’s sitting out front right now.” She spun around laughing. “Took me a spell to convince that old possum to let me take it, but when he saw the color of my money, he couldn’t find his pocket quick enough.”

She came back and stood over the bed, brandishing a bony finger. “And that there’s what I’ve been saying all along. Money makes a difference in people’s lives, even oil company money.”

Unwilling to wade those precarious waters, Charity bit her lip and nodded.

Oblivious, Mama continued, “Shame our cash is about to run out just when I’m getting used to having it.” She heaved a sigh. “Even more of a shame that boy couldn’t make good on his promise. Now we’ll never know what it’s like to make ends meet without stretching the life out of a dollar.”

Charity’s heart lurched. Buddy’s question about easing Mama’s burden came to mind. She hadn’t yet lifted a finger in that direction, and in fact had only created a heavier load. Not to mention the fact that her disastrous wedding had put a terrible strain on Mama’s purse ... with no well-heeled son-in-law to show for her trouble. “I’ll pitch in soon. I promise. I hear Elsa’s looking for help around the house after Amy Jane marries. If she’ll have me, after all the hullabaloo, I can work for her.”

Mama scrunched up her face. “I reckon I’d rather see you slave after Emmy the rest of your life than work for Elsa Pike.” She sat beside Charity on the bed and gripped her shoulders. “We’ll deal with all that later. Right now, the only thing holding us here is you, so don’t just sit there under them covers. Hurry and dress so we can get packed and eat a bite before we head home.”

“Does Buddy know?”

“What? That we’re coming? I started to tell him our plans this morning, but I don’t need him trying to talk me out of what I know is right. I reckon the sight of us on the porch with our belongings should show him we mean business.”

Pulling her chilly feet beneath her, Charity sat cross-legged in the bed. “But where will they go? The men, I mean.”

“That ain’t our concern now. We had a deal. Two months and no more. Their time is up.”

Charity pictured the house and shuddered. She remembered the mud, tracked so thick on the porch she couldn’t see the boards, with heavy-footed men traipsing in and out all the time. The kitchen had to be fly-spotted from leaving the screen tied back. No telling in what condition they’d find their beds. “Mama, the whole place is a in a muddle. How will we ever set it right again?”

Mama waved her hand. “Never mind about that. We’ll just wrestle it through to the end.”

Charity groaned and scratched her nose with the blanket. “That’s fine for you to say. You haven’t seen it.”

“Don’t worry, honey. The two of us will find a way. We always have, ain’t we?” She cocked her head and stared dreamily. “Almost hate to leave here though. I think I might miss seeing that Lee feller around. He sure is nice. Makes me wish I was ten years younger.”

“So it’s
Lee
now, is it?”

Mama bristled, her face crimson. “Don’t look so surprised. I ain’t buried yet.”

“I’m only surprised by what you said. You’re not ten years older than Mr. Allen. A couple of years, at most.”

Mama gazed at her, weighing her words. “Just two? You reckon so?”

Beaming, Charity swung her feet to the floor. “So you are sweet on him.”

Dimples deeper than her own creased Mama’s cheeks. “Hush up. We got no time for silly talk. Dress yourself, daughter, unless you’ve acquired Emmy’s fondness for parading outside in your nightdress.”

Charity laughed and pushed off the bed. Standing in front of the tall pine wardrobe, she picked through her clothes, studying them one by one. Besides her three old dresses and the bridal gown pushed to the back, two brand-new frocks hung there, one green and one blue. Not handmade like most things she owned but ordered straight from the catalog. Another good thing to come out of the oil company money, she grudgingly had to admit.

She held them up. “Can I wear one of these?”

Mama stood by the bed, shoving her clothes into a bag, not bothering to notice whether they were clean or dirty. She glanced back. “Out to that filthy place? Whatever for?”

“I want to, that’s all. I’ll change out of it before we start to clean.” She tilted her head and pouted her lips. “Please?”

Mama gave her a knowing look. “Go on, then. Look nice for Buddy. But you’d better be careful. There won’t be no more big checks to buy dresses once we take the house back.”

Charity twirled and squealed. “Thank you, Mama! I promise not to muss it.” She chose between the two outfits and returned the other one to its peg. Reaching to the back, she ran her fingers down the sequined bodice of the wedding gown. “Do you suppose Mrs. Pike and Amy Jane will ever forgive me for going back on our deal?”

“Sure they will. Time takes care of such things.”

“They won’t even speak to me, and they avoid me on the street.”

Mama snorted. “Count your blessings.”

Charity caressed the silky sleeve once more before gently tucking it back in place. “I must say, I’m glad it wound up this way. It’s such a beautiful gown. I just hope I get to wear it before it yellows with age.”

“Don’t be silly, child. The way things are going with you and Buddy, you’ll wear it, and soon I’ll wager. You two are as cozy as turtles on a warm rock.” A smug look crossed her face. “If I play my cards right with Mr. Allen, maybe I’ll get a chance to wear it first. ’Course I’d have to shorten the hem by six inches at least.” She hooted at her own daring then held up Charity’s shoes. “Sit down and I’ll help you put these on.”

Charity slipped on her stockings then pulled out the chair in front of the dressing table. Sobered, Mama stooped to help her with the laces. “How long you reckon it’ll take them men to clear off our land?”

Charity shrugged. “A few hours at most.”

Mama breathed a contented sigh. “Tonight I’ll actually get to sleep in my own bed. Never thought I’d choose it over all this finery, but I do.”

Charity bent to squeeze her hand. “Me, too.”

“Reckon we’ll get the house clean by bedtime?”

“Not like it was, I don’t expect, but if I have to sleep there tonight, I’m eager to get started. Only...”

Mama peered up at her and waited.

Charity extended one leg and feigned an interest in her shoe, trying hard to sound casual. “Does this mean Buddy will leave?”

Mama shook her head and went back to the laces. “Don’t borrow trouble, honey. There’s plenty of oil business in Humble to keep him right here. Besides, I get the feeling he’s not so eager to leave town just yet. You keep batting them pretty eyes and I expect he’ll be around for a good long while.”

It was just a tiny bit of hope, but she latched onto it. “You really think so?”

Mama dropped Charity’s foot on the floor and stood. “I do. Now let’s go scare us up some grub before I perish.”

They followed the aroma of food to the dining hall, where Sam saw to it they started their journey with a good breakfast. After a hearty platter of bacon, fried eggs, biscuits, and grits, they climbed aboard the hired rig and set out, their hearts as full as their bellies. They barely cleared the hotel before Red bounded up and fell in beside them, tail high, ears alert, as if he counted himself their personal escort.

“Fool dog,” Mama murmured, casting him a withering look.

Charity just laughed and shook her head.

The cool of the morning persisted, though the sun had come up bright, casting long shadows over the trail. The countryside only hinted of spring, but there were patches of early wildflowers and tender new growth on a few bare limbs.

Charity closed her eyes and thanked God for a beautiful new day. In her estimation, life couldn’t be better. The two things for which she had fervently prayed seemed close enough to reach out and touch.

Not only were they going home, but her heart stirred with the possibility that Buddy might care for her enough to stay on in Humble. Since the latter part was too important to trust to Mama’s scattered observations, Charity determined to find out for herself. She would see him in another half mile. She decided to be bold and watch him closely. If he truly cared, she’d know. She’d see it in his eyes.

Charity hoped she looked as good as she felt. She had worn the green dress. It was the prettiest and matched the color of her eyes. After Mama helped to pin up her hair and fasten her bonnet, Charity pulled long strands free, winding them into dark curls around her face. A splash of lavender water at the crook of each arm finished her off.

“You smell nice, baby. Just like springtime.”

Startled, Charity glanced up. It was uncanny how Mama picked up her thoughts. “What a nice thing to say. Thank you.”

“You look right pretty in that new frock, too. I’m glad you wore it.”

Smoothing the fabric against her lap, Charity smiled. “I do love it. I’m so glad you bought it for me.”

Mama turned her head to the trail again, but not before Charity saw tears glistening in her eyes. “I wanted to buy you lots of new things.”

Charity leaned close and hugged her. “Don’t you dare fret. I know you’re disappointed, but what you’re giving me today is worth more than ten new dresses.” She squeezed her tighter. “We’re going home, Mama! That’s all that matters. I’m content without all the rest—honest, I am.”

Red barked, loud and unexpected beside them, causing them both to jump. Mama shouted an insult at him, a coarse offense she’d picked up from Mother Dane.

“Mama!”

“I’m sorry, daughter. He scared me.”

The dog ducked and cowered in shame, but his sense of obligation overshadowed his disgrace. He trotted alongside them, big head swaying to and fro, alert eyes sweeping the brush-lined trail. Evidently, whatever he had barked at earlier wasn’t important enough to pull him from his self-appointed duty.

Obviously eager to get home, Mama kept the horse moving at a brisk pace. Determined to keep up, though he drooled and panted profusely, Red kept apace with the horse. Charity figured she might feel sorry for him if he weren’t so pigheaded.

“Why do you suppose that stubborn old hound persists on following me wherever I go?”