Free Chasing Charity by Marcia Gruver

violently her words came out through chattering teeth.
    Buddy smiled. “Rest easy. The three of us have bunked in closer quarters, I assure you.” He nodded at Sam. “Have someone show the lady to her room while I tend to the buckboard.” With that, he gave her a saucy wink, laced his thumbs behind blue suspenders, and strutted to the door.
    “Buddy,” Charity called after him. One glance at Sam’s frowning face and she amended. “Mr. Pierce ... I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
    Buddy tipped his soggy hat then turned and dashed outside.
    ***
    Daniel Clark huddled in a corner of the hotel lobby among a group of men who had ducked in out of the rain. Feeling a mixture of disbelief and something else, an unsettling, uncomfortable emotion he couldn’t shake, he watched the exchange between Charity and the strange man.
    He’d never witnessed this Charity before—her delicate face framed by damp ringlets of coal and her wide eyes flashing, her head thrown back and her soft lips drawn in a smile full of gleaming white teeth. In all the time he’d known her, she’d never laughed so freely in his presence or clung to him weak-kneed with glee. Seeing her that way stirred something inside him that quickened his breath.
    And then she was gone. Vanished from the top of the stairs, still laughing and chattering like a schoolgirl. Her absence left him as hollow as a gourd.
    The fog in Daniel’s head cleared enough to realize that the men crowded around him were staring, amusement dancing in their eyes. Clearing his throat, he pushed through his mockers, feigning interest in the weather past the front window. “Well, gentlemen, looks like it’s beginning to clear.”
    Their snickers and whispers were lost on him as he hurried to the door and slipped out. Casting a glance at the offending stranger who had run into the hotel alongside Charity, he lowered the brim of his hat to block the persistent light sprinkle and hurried down the boardwalk toward home.
    ***
    Charity released the bottom hook of her skirt and let the drenched fabric fall in a soggy heap at her feet. She stepped free and ran to the corner where she had tossed the wet satchel. Wrinkling her nose at the musty smell the rain had coaxed from the heavy canvas, she slid the bag over the floor then lifted it to the dressing table. Rummaging inside, she pulled out dry undergarments and her last clean dress. Shivers shook her from the draft blowing in around the window frame and under the door, and her teeth chattered until she could hear them.
    There were clean towels and soap beside the basin of hot water Sam had sent upstairs. She freshened up and dressed as fast as she could. The water warmed her some, but her teeth still rattled. Jerking the blanket from the bed, she draped the soft folds over her shoulders.
    The boar-bristle brush in her bag came from Mama’s vanity set, an expensive gift she’d received as a girl in Jefferson and brought with her to Humble. Charity ran it through her hair, feeling guilty for having taken so precious an item without permission.
    With her curls pinned up, the mirror over the basin reflected the image of her old self. So why didn’t she feel like herself?
    Charity leaned to study her face, so clean her nose reflected the light coming in under the shade. A fire she couldn’t name lit her eyes from within and colored her burning cheeks. She put a hand to her trembling mouth to quench the smile she saw there and pushed the truth from her mind.
    She turned from the mirror to look around, and her heart swelled in gratitude to Buddy. The room was small but cozy. From the blanket that covered her to the crisp sheets, the embroidered pillowcases, and the lace curtains at the window, everything smelled fresh and new.
    The gleaming floors were of the same polished wood as the door, windowsill, and corner table that held the basin. Floral paper in shades of blue and green adorned the walls, and a rag rug beside the bed cushioned her