Chasing Charity

by Marcia Gruver

  Charity’s heart swelled. “Oh, Buddy. Yes, I want to marry you. More than anything. I will, too, but there’s something I have to take care of first.”

  Mama had stood quietly long enough. “Charity, what on earth are you saying? You go on and marry this boy. Ain’t it just what we wanted? It’ll solve everything.”

  She shook her head. “Not everything, Mama. Let’s go, Nash.”

  “I don’t understand. Where are you going?” Buddy asked.

  “To the Pikes’ place.”

  Mama gasped and laid a hand to her heart. “Straight into the devil’s jaws? Daughter, you cain’t.”

  “I have to. If my hunch is right, it’ll pull our bacon out of those jaws for good.”

  Mama took a determined step forward and locked arms with her. “If you’re going to see that nasty, no-good Shamus Pike, I’m going with you.”

  Buddy latched onto her other arm. “Me, too.”

  Charity smiled down at Mama then up at Buddy. “I guess there’s no talking you two out of it, so let’s go.”

  As they passed Emmy, her burning stare caught and held Charity’s attention. Charity never expected the tenderness she saw in Emmy’s blue eyes or the grief etched on her battered face, and it pierced her heart. Pent-up tears welled, and Charity reached to take her hand, but her overeager companions herded her out the door.

  Mother Dane and Mama crowded up front with Nash, while Charity and Buddy climbed onto the back of the wagon. Emmy, Mr. Ritter, and the two strangers piled into the other rig and struck out after them. Though warmed by Buddy’s presence and thrilled by his hand clasped tightly over hers, she was too preoccupied to enjoy it fully. As hard as she tried to focus on Buddy or what lay ahead at the Pikes’, she couldn’t keep her mind off the mournful look on Emmy’s face. The girl was busting to tell her something, but she didn’t get the chance.

  Behind them, Emmy sat tall in the bed of the old wagon, her back against the tailgate, arms draped casually over the rail as they bumped along the trail. The fact that Emmy climbed into the rear surprised Charity. The sight of her so comfortable there astonished her. She couldn’t help but smile.

  Charity never intended to arrive at the Pikes’ in a caravan, but the situation had spun out of control. Given the gravity of the accusation she was about to make, a few more witnesses wouldn’t be a bad idea. The closer they came to Shamus Pike’s place, the better she felt about having some company. When they turned down the long drive and headed in the direction of the house, she was downright glad of it.

  CHAPTER 32

  “Goodness. What’s all this?”

  Elsa Pike, stationed at the entrance of her home like a dowdy sentry, stared past Charity, her gaze shifting from face to face. Evidently quite confused by the unlikely assembly, a frown replaced her customary smile.

  Charity bit back a chuckle. Lo, the would-be queen of Humble society caught at her worst and too surprised to care.

  She’d been baking again, her apron a testament to the different ingredients. Flour had somehow wound up on her head, perhaps while scratching an itch, and mixed with sweat to become tacky pearls of dough strung in her hair. The bejeweled strands hung in damp gray rings about her face, as limp as the dignity she fought to regain.

  Charity held out her hand. “Good morning, Elsa. My apologies for barging in like this, but I’m here on urgent business.”

  Elsa took Charity’s hand then cringed at the mess left by her fingers. She nodded at Mama and Mother Dane in turn while she offered Charity the end of her apron.

  “Bertha. Magdalena. It’s so good to see you.”

  Amy Jane appeared behind her mama, her customary frown intact, edging her thick brows even closer. Unlike Elsa, she seemed oblivious to everyone but Charity. She gasped and pointed an accusing finger. “Will you look at that! She’s wearing my dress.”

  Her smile restored, Elsa reached around to swipe at Amy Jane. She missed. “Well, so she is. What’s going on here, Charity, dear?”

  Amy Jane pushed closer. “She’s come to rub my nose in it, that’s what.”

  Elsa whirled on her. “Amy Jane! Charity has not donned that silly dress and hauled all these people onto our front lawn just to get under your skin. Hush now, and let her explain herself.”

  She returned her attention to Charity. “Forgive my outburst, child. Go ahead, then.”

  Now that she actually stood on the Pikes’ porch, Charity’s confidence waned. She reached for Buddy’s supportive hand. “I’ve come to see Shamus.”

  “Shamus?” Elsa failed to hide her disappointment.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Charity said. “My business is with him.” She peered past them but detected no movement in the deep shadows of the house.

  Elsa untied her apron and whisked it off. “I’m afraid he’s not here at present, but I expect him back real soon. Would you care to wait?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  Curiosity had crowded Elsa’s manners aside. Her eyes strayed back to the odd assortment of people, mostly strangers, dotting her front lawn. Unable to contain herself, she asked one more eager, leading question.

  “Isn’t there something I can do for you in the meantime?”

  Too anxious to stand on formality, Charity forged ahead. “Mrs. Pike, I know I’m taking disgraceful liberties, but I have no choice. Will you permit me to examine something in your parlor?”

  Visibly relieved to be back in the center of things, Elsa swung wide the door. “Of course, dear. I have nothing to hide. Come in, all of you.”

  Charity’s grip on Buddy’s hand tightened, and they walked inside, Charity aware that a parade of people slipped in behind them. First Mama and Mother Dane. Mr. Ritter and Emmy came next. She imagined Elsa and Amy Jane brought up the rear. Elsa’s invitation didn’t likely extend to poor Nash and his friends, and they doubtless waited beside the rig. In the close confines of the narrow hallway, the smell that arose from Buddy and company grew so fierce that Charity feared Elsa might order them back outside as well.

  How peculiar the stern expressions on the wall had seemed to Charity the last time she’d walked the dimly lit passage, and how comical Elsa in her unbuttoned, disheveled dress. Now the bedraggled characters who filed past the framed faces made all that seem proper by comparison.

  Once inside the cheery parlor, Charity wasted no time. She headed straight for the mahogany working table and yanked out the bottom drawer.

  Her mama gasped. “Charity Bloom, what on earth? I raised you better than that.” She shot a nervous glance at the parlor door, but Elsa hadn’t yet made it inside. “You can’t go snooping through drawers without permission, whatever the reason.”

  “I know, Mama.”

  “Close it, then.”

  “Yes, ma’am, in a second.” Charity stooped to better see inside, while her frantic fingers searched the contents.

  Behind them Elsa cleared her throat, and Mama lost her patience. “Charity Bloom!”

  Charity stood, careful to keep her back to the group clustered at the door. Her gaze swept the papers in her hand, taking in the information as fast as she could manage. Then she faced the assembled group, holding aloft the documents and Shamus’s writing set.

  “I knew it,” she said and then drew a deep, cleansing breath. “I just knew it.”

  Mama’s scorching gaze traveled from Charity’s face to her upraised hands. “What is that you’re holding?”

  “Our freedom.”

  “Explain yourself.”

  “Mama, I stood beside Daniel and watched that preacher sign our marriage license, wishing he would sign in pencil the way Papa always did, so I could erase it. That’s when these two documents came to mind as clear as day.” She waved each one in turn. “One in pencil, one in pen, both in Papa’s handwriting.”

  She watched the circle of familiar faces, waiting for them to catch on. “This one”—she passed it to her mama—“is the only one Papa actually wrote.”

  Mama took it from her and sca
nned it front and back. “Thad always did prefer a pencil for scratching on paper.”

  Charity held up the other. “This one, the document Shamus brought to our hotel room, was traced out in ink by someone else.”

  Buddy stepped up and took both papers. “What’s the difference between them?”

  Charity smiled. “A big difference.” She faced Elsa. “Mrs. Pike, did you know about this?”

  Elsa’s cheeks had lost their rosy glow. “I must say I’m at a loss. I make it a rule not to plunder through my husband’s things, so I haven’t a clue what those”—she waved toward Buddy, who stood over the lamp studying the writings—“scribblings might be. Enlighten me, please. Just what is it you think you’ve pulled from my Shamus’s drawer?”

  Her eagerness dimmed by the fear she read on Elsa’s face, Charity cleared her throat and started again. “Are you aware of a bet between Shamus and my father?”

  “A bet?” Elsa frowned and shook her head. “Between Shamus and Thad? I don’t know anything about that.”

  “Did you know Shamus had plans to take our home?”

  Mama sputtered. “Take it? More like steal it right out from under us.”

  Elsa whirled on Mama. “Bertha Bloom, bite your tongue. My Shamus was Thad’s closest friend. I’ll thank you to remember that.”

  Mama glared back at her. “He’s been no friend to me or my daughter, Elsa Pike. That’s what I’ll remember.” She nodded at the documents in Buddy’s hands, her eyes searching Charity’s for understanding. “Do those papers mean what I think they mean? Your papa never made no bet at all?”

  “He did, but not for our home. Papa only put up the ten acres Shamus leases from us. Nothing more.”

  “But why would Shamus put his whole place up against ten acres? That ain’t sensible.”

  “He didn’t. He only put up ten acres to match Papa’s bet. Shamus lied about that, too.”

  Buddy held up the copy he had taken from Charity’s hands. “Then where did this other one come from?”

  Before she could answer, the back door slammed, followed by heavy footfalls in the hall. The already tense muscles in Charity’s back contracted with dread, and her legs trembled so hard she feared falling. Afraid to turn, she heard him before she saw him.

  “What’s going on in here?” The booming voice gave them all a start. Shamus hulked in the doorway, hat in hand. His gaze swept Charity, from the hem of her dress to the flowers in her hair. His dark eyes narrowed to slits when they reached her face. “Well now, ain’t you a sight.”

  He tilted a tight jaw toward Elsa, his gaze still locked on Charity. “What are these people doing here?”

  Charity’s throat constricted and all the moisture left her mouth, but she held her ground. She glanced at Buddy for strength before she took the papers from his hands and approached Shamus. “Mr. Pierce here just asked the origin of this forged document.” The confident, steady tone of her own voice surprised Charity. She had expected it to match the way she trembled inside. “You can answer that question for him, can’t you, Mr. Pike? I do believe you know.”

  One glance at the evidence Charity waved in his face stirred a flicker of fear in Shamus’s eyes. He shook his head and brushed past her. “You’re speaking in riddles, girl. I don’t know anything about a forged document. Now tell me what you’re doing here or clear out.”

  Mama squinted and jutted her hip. “Just look at him. Fidgety as a bag of cats. He’s guilty, all right.” She squared off in front of Shamus, blocking his way. He seemed to shrink before the tiny woman, and Charity knew Mama’s size didn’t hold the big man in check.

  Mama took a bead on Shamus with her eyes. “To think I spent the last years guarding my land from crooked strangers, when all the time the knife was coming at me from behind. Shame on you, Shamus Pike. You’ve trod on Thad’s memory and betrayed our long friendship. I curse the day that river swallowed him up, but at least he ain’t here to see what you tried to do to his family.”

  Tears flooded Shamus’s eyes, and he lifted one hand toward Mama. “Bertha, I can explain.”

  She drew back with a hiss. “Don’t you bother. I wish the dead could come back so Thad could haunt you. As for me, I don’t care to ever lay eyes on you again.”

  She glanced around the hushed room. “Well, that’s it, then. We’re done here.” Her head swung in Charity’s direction, her eyes bright with tears. “Come on, daughter, and bring them papers with you.”

  Charity fell in behind her as they filed out of the parlor, but she turned at the threshold to glance back at Shamus, who stood staring down at the floor. “We won’t need to call the sheriff about this. That is, so long as you leave us be.”

  He nodded without looking up.

  Buddy’s hand at Charity’s back urged her out the door. At the wagon, the little group huddled around her and her mama, and Buddy’s hand became a firm, comforting arm encircling her waist. Admiration shone from his eyes. “How did you know?”

  “Good question, boy,” Mama chimed in. “How did you know about them papers, sugar? Or even where to find them?”

  Charity gathered the silky folds of her wedding dress in both hands. “Would you believe it? I owe it all to this gown.”

  Lifting her thin shoulders, Mama peered vacantly at the frock. “To that thing? How so?”

  “You see, the day I came out here to offer it for sale, I stumbled over that table and knocked it to the floor, along with the contents of the drawer. I shoved everything back so quickly I had no time to look them over. But I guess the sight of Papa’s handwriting on those documents got stuck somewhere in my mind.”

  Mama nodded thoughtfully. “I never understood Thad’s stubborn partiality to a pencil. Not sure he did either.” Her eyes brightened. “I reckon God understood. It was for this day, so Shamus couldn’t steal from us.”

  “It’s a miracle. An answer to prayer.” Emmy, standing just outside the circle of friends, had breathed the awestruck words.

  Charity smiled and moved in her direction. “Yes, a miracle. One of many.”

  Emmy took the last few steps to meet her, a plea in her smoldering blue eyes. “I have something to say to you, Charity Bloom. Something you need to know.”

  The diminutive Emmy, though shorter than Charity, had never seemed childlike. Yet standing there wringing her hands, her upturned face streaked with dirt, she bore an innocence Charity had never seen in her before.

  She nodded. “You’d best go ahead and say it.”

  “I know you think I lit out after Buddy and brought him back so I could have Daniel for myself, but it just isn’t so.”

  “Then why would you do such a thing?”

  “It was for you. I did it for you.” Once started, something broke loose in Emmy, and a rush of words followed. “I discovered the truth about Daniel.” She grasped Charity’s fingers. “You don’t really know him. Neither did I—that is, until a few days ago. He hoodwinked us both. Beneath all that charm and polish lies a cruel and vicious man. Please take my word for it. I’ve seen his dark side, and I love you too much to see you married to him. I set out to bring Buddy back no matter what the cost.”

  In tears now, she took hold of Charity’s arms. “I know it won’t earn your forgiveness. I mean, how could you forgive the things I’ve done? Even so, I had to save you from that mean, no-account scoundrel. I simply had to.”

  Emmy let go of Charity and fished a lace hankie from her bodice, likely the only clean piece of cloth left on her body, and wiped her eyes. “Of course, it must seem hypocritical of me to call Daniel cruel after the pain I dealt you. What I did was reprehensible.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Wicked.”

  “Quite.”

  “Completely selfish.”

  “You left out disloyal.”

  With each agreement, Emmy’s tirade grew less impassioned. She glanced up at Charity with uncertain eyes before faltering ahead. “So like I said, you could never be expected to forgive me.”
<
br />   Charity grinned. “Yes, I could.”

  “I’d walk over hot coals to make it possible, though I know you could never...”

  “I can, Emmy. I already have.”

  Emmy looked as if she dared not hope. “What did you say?”

  “I said I forgive you.”

  “After I betrayed you, humiliated you? No, you couldn’t. I’ve ruined our friendship for good.”

  “Emily Dane, you’ve done no such thing. We’ll be friends forever.”

  The words brought Emmy’s wringing and squirming to a halt. She stared at Charity in wonder. “But how?”

  Charity raised her hands out to her sides. “To be honest, I don’t know! Maybe I love you too much, Emmy. Or maybe I discovered I’m capable of hurtful, spiteful things myself.”

  She pointed toward the house. “All I know is back there I looked at Shamus Pike and saw true regret. He let greed get the better of him, and now he’s sorry. I expect he wishes more than anything to undo it, to make it right again.” She placed her hands on Emmy’s shoulders. “I see that same look in your eyes.”

  Emmy’s fingers clenched into fists that she tucked under her trembling chin. “I am so ashamed. I would do anything to make it up to you.”

  Charity took Emmy’s face in her hands. “Goodness, by the look of you, you already have.” She laughed and wiped a smudge from Emmy’s face. “Do you know you’re an absolute mess?”

  “Yes, and I always have been.”

  Charity laughed. “Honey, I didn’t mean...”

  “It’s true, and you know it. I made a mess of my whole life then tried to ruin yours, too.”

  Charity lifted her chin. “Emmy, it’s all right. Besides, if you think about it”—she cast a pointed glance at Buddy—“you did me quite a favor.”

  She opened her arms, and Emmy walked into them. They held each other in the midst of the damp-eyed circle of witnesses and wept.