Free Chasing Charity by Marcia Gruver Page A

feet.
    Noise from the street below drew her to the window. A light rain still fell, but clustered strangers milled about the boardwalk again. She shook her head. A far cry from the days when she recognized every face in town. She feared the discovery of oil would cause Humble to become as bustling and sprawling as nearby Houston. Why couldn’t the confounded oil companies pack it in and leave for good? She wished they’d all hop the first train out and go back to where they came from.
    All ... except Buddy Pierce.
    Charity fell onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Just who was he anyway, this bull of a man who met her at every turn, the handsome stranger who rescued her and knew all of her secrets? Remembering his teasing and spirited laughter, she hugged herself and smiled.
    Had she ever seen such eyes? Green as a bitter apple and rimmed in brown, they looked right through her. And the size of him! When Buddy pulled her to his chest, she felt small and safe. His arms wrapped around her stirred a peculiar sensation in her middle, pleasant and unpleasant in equal measure. Warm butterflies tumbled in her stomach now just thinking of him.
    She lurched upright. How could she possibly entertain such scandalous musings when only days ago Daniel had stood at her side, Daniel had held her?
    Perched on the edge of the bed, staring at her troubled reflection in the frosty windowpane, she admitted that it hadn’t been the same. She’d never once thrilled to Daniel’s touch or come to life in his presence the way she had with Buddy.
    How can that be? I almost married Daniel Clark.
    Yet she hadn’t once grieved for him the way she had for Emmy. Hadn’t they both betrayed her?
    Charity remembered Emmy’s mournful face turned to the light, pining for Daniel while she grieved over shattered trust. She pictured Daniel emerging from the shadows, saw Emmy embracing him in the moonlight.
    How could I have ever loved that wicked girl?
    Yet her heart was her undoing. Whatever the cost, whatever the fool her devotion made her, she loved Emily Dane more than herself. The faithless girl was the sister she’d never had, and one never stopped loving a sister.
    “Oh drat!” In her angst, Charity had twisted her dress until the thin fabric ripped. Fingering the ragged edges, she wondered if she could fix it. She had only one other outfit not too worn or frayed to wear. Juggling between three dresses made her weary.
    Washing them every week became a challenge. Scrubbing wore down the nap more each time. Every washday there were buttons to replace and tears to mend. If only Mama could afford more material. They had tucked away money for that purpose, but the infernal wedding gown had sapped every penny and then some. She toyed with converting the gown into something suitable, but the idea wasn’t practical. The fabric proved too fine for everyday use.
    Amy Jane Pike’s offer to buy the dress struck Charity’s mind like a thunderclap. She could afford material for three, maybe four dresses with that kind of money.
    As fast as she remembered Amy Jane, she realized something else. She was on her own now. In order to survive, she would need every penny that fell into her hands for necessities. Nothing more. The thought filled her with regret ... and fear.
    “Young Mr. Pierce said you and Bertha may come by some money.” Mother Dane’s words came to her unbidden.
    If oil truly lay under their land, buying clothes would never be a problem again. She could buy a trunk full. And Mama would never need to scrub another floor. She could replace her straggly teeth with a store-bought pair and afford fancy combs like Mother Dane’s for her hair. Charity imagined her mama gussied up like Mother Dane, and the picture made her laugh out loud.
    Having money could do all those things and more, but she pushed the temptation from her mind. Such thoughts opposed how she felt about the oil boom in her town, not to mention her convictions about the evils of