Free Unspoken by Dee Henderson

burning into my tired brain at night to go along with the antique and collectibles guides.”
    “I know buying and selling are always different sides of the ledger, but I promise to be fair if you need an informed opinion on a coin.”
    “I always figured you would be.” Charlotte leaned against the display case, her hand on the glass. Bryce winced, and she smiled when she saw the direction of his gaze. She rubbed at the print with her sleeve and mostly wiped it off. “You are instinctively a shopkeeper—I do admire that.”
    “Only an uncle for a boss can make you appreciate fingerprint-free glass. My first job in this business was cleaning windows and the glass display cases.”
    “I shall try to remember and be kinder about where I leave prints.” She studied him. “You asked how many more coins I have to sell.”
    “Yes.”
    “Why don’t you come and see.” She pulled over a piece of paper and started to draw a map.
    He put his hand over hers. “Why don’t I just ride along?”
    She looked over at him. “Afraid I’ll change my mind?”
    “Yes.”
    She laughed and pointed. “I’ve got the dogs.”
    “And I’m guessing not your truck if you brought them both with you.”
    “The dogs get a yearly visit with the vet who owns their mother. I borrowed John’s SUV.”
    “Good. The dogs can share the back seat.”
    “It’s close to a five-hour drive. Route 90 to 39 north, past Stevens Point.”
    “Figured that.” He smiled at her confusion. “You threw the chum. I bit. I’d like to see the coins enough I looked up where you might have them stored.”
    “How do you feel about being the driver?”
    “Much better than being the passenger.”
    She handed him her keys. “I could use the drive time to get some work done.”
    “Hey, our first compromise. We should practice and get good at it.” At her smile, he pocketed her keys. “Give me ten minutes to tell my staff I’ll be gone for the day.”
    She placed a hand on his arm. “How are you going to get home?”
    “I’ll rent a car. That’s going to be a minor part of this trip, Charlotte. Back in a bit. Remind me to get the sunglasses case out of my car.”

    Bryce checked the rearview mirror and moved over to the left lane to pass a construction van. Whatever he had been expecting from this trip, reality had turned out better. It was a quiet,pleasant, peaceful drive. He hadn’t heard more than twenty words from Charlotte, and they had been on the road over three hours now. The dogs were sound asleep in the back after a short stop to let them run.
    She had been serious about using the time to get some work done. She’d hauled a briefcase into the front seat with her and used the surface as a desk. She had systematically worked her way through a deep pile of paperwork, writing replies in the margins of pages, signing others, and most of the time simply checking the corner of the page before setting it aside.
    She’d started writing letters when they reached the second hour on the road. He glanced over. The stack of envelopes, stamped, ready to mail, was growing. She had her checkbook out now. Food pantries, animal shelters. She was writing out checks to nonprofits. From the list she was working from, a lot of checks.
    She caught his look. “Have you ever been hungry, Bryce?”
    “Not like you’re implying.”
    “I have. I’m going to get to every food pantry in the country before I’m done, and several overseas for good measure.”
    “It sounds like a nice way to use some of his cash.”
    “Better than keeping more of it than my sister and I need.”
    She licked an envelope, sealed it, added it to the stack. “Where would you give some money away if you had extra?”
    She asked it as a serious question, and he took his time before he replied. “My church, because I know the budget and the fact the money is spent carefully. Organizations like World Vision and Samaritan’s Purse. They can stretch the impact of the dollars given by