A Taste of Shine

by Addison Cain

  “Tonight?”

  “It’s the Christmas Hoedown at the Barksdale place. Didn’t you know?” Stunned, Ruth said, “Everyone is going to be there, and the Emersons will be selling a special batch of their liquor. Eli told me a week ago.”

  Charlie shook her head, frowning. “No one mentioned it.”

  There was a knowing look in Ruth’s eye. “We can’t let the men dictate everything we do. If Matthew don’t got the grit to ask you, then you should go anyway and keep me company. It’ll give you a chance to try out all those dances I taught you.”

  Well, the hell with him. She was going. “I’ll be there.”

  Chapter 18

  When he saw her come down the stairs, hair sculpted and curled like it had been in Chicago, Matthew knew a sinking in his gut. The set of her painted red lips aggressive, Charlie waved off supper and crossed towards the door.

  She’d found out.

  Nathaniel had warned him trying to hide it was foolish, but he kept his silence anyway. Hell, even Eli’s loud mouth had been sealed.

  Looking up from the jar in his hand, Nathaniel gave her a cockeyed once over. “Well don’t you look real purdy in your red dress, Charlie.”

  She offered a cold smile. “You look like you actually combed your hair.” Making a closer inspection, Charlie added, “And your shirt is tucked in… Must be a special occasion.”

  His cocky grin only spread further. “Will you save me a dance?”

  “I would be honored to step on your toes.” Voice decidedly less friendly, her eyes went to his younger brother. “Evening, Matthew. Don’t wait up for me.”

  When the door banged shut and her engine revved, Nathaniel began to outright laugh at the look on Matthew’s face. “You are gonna have a night of hell, and I am gonna enjoy watchin’ you squirm.”

  “Fuck you, Nathaniel.”

  Laughing all the harder, his brother ran a hand through his no longer tidy hair.

  Nathaniel’s prediction was accurate; even before they arrived at the Barksdale’s barn Matthew was worked up—gritting his teeth, and a bad-tempered pain in the ass. But when the trio stepped in from the cold and the first thing Matthew saw was Charlie grinning while Frank Dooley spun her around the floor, he was certain his brother was going to blow a gasket.

  “Get out of the way, Matthew,” Nathaniel pushed past him, arms full of heavy crates. “You gonna stand there gawkin’ or you gonna move some product? We already got us a line.”

  Narrowing his eyes, dark thoughts plotted revenge against the eligible deputy flirting with his girl. “Get to work.”

  “Uhhn uhh, Matthew,” Eli complained. “I promised Ruth I’d dance with her. Don’t expect me to be tied to this corner all night.” And just like that the youngest Emerson bolted.

  “Now, don’t give him that look,” Nathaniel handed a jar to the nearest customer, still mouthing off. “Least he’s got the determination to court his girl.”

  Eli made quick work of his wooing, taking a smiling Ruth’s hand and pulling her to dance the next song. Charlie was also approached, practically yanked from her current partner, and off she went with James Thompson, fellow bootlegger and well-known local Lothario.

  Sneer amplified, Matthew bit down hard on the cigar between his teeth, sorely tempted to just walk up and intervene. Before he could make his move, Nathaniel made a beeline straight over to Charlie, tying Matthew to the corner alone with the liquor.

  Waiting on the sideline, Nathaniel caught her once the song ended. Spinning her around, ruffling up her skirt, he led her through the steps of a fast paced and boisterous country dance. For such a tall man, Nathaniel was a sprightly dancer, leaving Charlie bursting out laughing as she tried to keep up.

  Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Everyone but the man no soul would approach, not even to buy a jar. All Matthew could see was red… the same red as the golden girl’s far too pretty dress.

  Flushed and breathless, Charlie was so god-dang beautiful. Of course there would be a line of men waiting for their turn. But Nathaniel seemed to ignore that another might want to claim her and saw her back to where she’d thrown her cardigan on some hay. Taking off his hat, he plopped down beside her and the two of them ended up in stitches, no doubt from Nathaniel saying something unsuitable—the very kind of foul humor the two always played at.

  Charlie shoved him off and Nathaniel came back to his brother. Beady eyes brimming with mischief, the eldest only laughed to see Matthew’s black looks had frightened off any potential customers.

  “Charlie’s a far cry better than she was a few months back,” Nathaniel crowed, unscrewing a fresh jar. “Turns out, she’s been practicing. Wouldn’t tell me who’s been teachin’ her though.”

  Charlotte had been practicing, and Matthew knew it sure as hell had not been he who taught her all those new steps.

  “You should stop starin’ at her like a piece of meat,” his brother teased meanly. “You look just about ready to take a bite.”

  “You should shut your goddamn mouth before I shut it for you.” Matthew followed the threat with a dangerous glare.

  A sloppy grin stretched Nathaniel’s face. “Whatever you say, baby brother… but just think, if you woulda escorted her like you shoulda, the likes of James Thompson and Deputy Dooley wouldn’t be looking to take a bite neither.”

  Looking to the men Nathaniel had listed, Matthew found them ogling Charlie just as he had been. And it wasn’t just them, several of the women, including Mrs. Fontanne, were taking measure of his golden girl and whispering.

  Without thought, his legs moved, carrying him over to the old dame and intruding on the women’s circle where anyone standing within five feet could hear Miss Elliot’s name slandered by the infamous gossip.

  “Something just ain’t right about that woman. Comin’ and goin’ like she pleased, traveling alone… Came in at all hours of the night with packages from God only knows where. Her highfalutin clothes. I wonder just who she visits… if you get my drift.”

  Matthew cleared his throat. When the beak-nose face glanced up to find the looming bootlegger standing near, Mrs. Fontanne glowered. “What can I do for you, Mr. Emerson?”

  Taking off his hat, Matthew held her eyes until she took the hint and cowed. “How are things at the boarding house?”

  “Just fine.”

  Voice menacingly and cordial, he made damn sure she understood his displeasure. “Send your husband over to see me tomorrow. Seems he and I need to do some talkin’.”

  Embarrassed to be corrected in front of her friends, Mrs. Fontanne nodded dumbly.

  “You have a good evening now.” Matthew put his hat back on. Cigar between his lips he stalked straight through the party to where Charlotte sat fanning herself.

  When she looked up, eyes glowing and full of warmth, Matthew felt as if the room had gone out from under his feet. All at once his anger seemed… wrong.

  Taking off his hat, he pressed it to his chest. Knowing folks were watching, he muttered like a jackass, “Charlotte.”

  Charlie leaned back on her hands. “Matthew.”

  He had no idea what the hell he was supposed to say to her, far too distracted by her pretty smiling lips.

  One eyebrow cocked and Charlie broke the awkward silence. “How’s business?”

  Ignoring her question, he took the cigar from his mouth, looking down at the glowing tip before rumbling, “Come walk with me.”

  Voice thick as the night before, Charlotte whispered, “Sure.”

  Matthew grabbed her cardigan, holding it up for her to slip on, doing all the actions of a proper beau where the whole damn barn could see.

  Grousing at nearby gawking Eli, Matthew ordered, “Playtime’s over. Get back to work and help Nathaniel.”

  And just like that, Matthew was his domineering old self.

  A possessive hand on her lower back, he led Charlie out into the cold night air. Other sweethearts were walking in the moonlight, trying to get lost in the motley
collection of cars and horse drawn buggies where chaperoning old women couldn’t keep too close an eye. Guiding her beyond all the nonsense, Matthew led his lady to the edge of the lot so they might enjoy a silent moment and the view.

  Stars were glowing, smeared across the sky, and it was clear Charlie was content to sit and look. “They sure are pretty aren’t they, Matthew?”

  Looking right at her, he nodded once. “Sure are.”

  “You were glaring at me again.” Impish eyes peeked towards him. “Just like at the last barn dance.”

  He felt a new surge of annoyance. “I wasn’t glarin’ at you. I was glarin’ at my brother.”

  “After living in Monroe for the last few months, I am quite certain I know your glare down pat.”

  Matthew bit the words out around his cigar, “You shouldn’t be dancing with all them men. Sends out the wrong idea.”

  The smile fell off her face. “And what idea is that? I’m not the only single woman enjoying herself in there.”

  “And just who taught you all those new dances?”

  “None of your business, Matthew Emerson.” Charlie squared her shoulders. “I like to dance and I aim to do it. There is nothing improper in my behavior.”

  “You came here alone.”

  She threw up her hands and felt her temper soar. “I’m escorted!”

  Matthew felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. “What man brought you here?”

  Rolling her eyes, Charlie lost her cool and poked him right in the chest. “Well, it sure as hell wasn’t you. Somehow, I get the impression you didn’t want me to know about this party.”

  Tossing his cigar to the dirt, he took her by the arms and demanded, “Answer the question, Charlotte.”

  Hurt rang clear in her voice. “Why didn’t you ask me, Matthew? I ain’t good enough to be seen with?”

  “I don’t dance,” he growled.

  Charlie waved off his excuse. “I’ve danced with you! You’re a better dancer than half the men who partnered me tonight.”

  He pulled her flush, holding tight so she couldn’t keep trying to storm off. “And just which one of those men brought you here?”

  As if about ready to strangle him, Charlie snarled, “I am chaperoned by Sheriff Cormac and his daughter!”

  Rancor softening at the mention of Eli’s girl, Matthew muttered, “Ain’t no local courtin’ you?”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake! I thought you were courtin’ me in your piss poor way.”

  The nature of his grip on her arms changed, thumbs stroking gently. “I suppose I am.”

  She was fed up. “Well shit, Matthew. There’s moonlight and this is supposed to be romantic. Stop lecturing me and kiss me already.”

  In an instant, Matthew’s lips vigorously silenced the mouth of the exasperated woman. Frustration poured into the desperate nature of the contact—hunger and anger blending with a lingering sense of unfulfilled need. In no time flat, he had her panting, her mouth opening to his tongue.

  Charlie knocked off his hat, in her impatience to run her hands through his hair. When he pulled her closer, shamelessly pressing his arousal against her belly, she let out a suggestive moan.

  “You best quiet that noise before one of the old women hears you,” Matthew panted against her lips, knowing his own groans had been just as passionate.

  “Huh?” Dazed sapphire eyes were hazy with pleasure.

  Drawing in a shaky breath, he willed his cock to lay down. Hugging her to him, he slowly stroked her back, Charlotte seemingly content to keep rubbing against him no matter who might be spying.

  “Once I get myself together, I’ll be taking you back inside. You ain’t gonna be dancin’ with no other men tonight.”

  She stiffened. “Don’t think you can boss me about like you do your kin.”

  Her threat was like a bucket of cold water. An outright challenge—he could dance with her or she would dance with someone else.

  Bending down to scoop up his hat, Matthew dusted it off against his thigh, and offered his arm. Back inside, under beams dripping with evergreen boughs and holly, he took her past the punch and red garlands. Just about to reach the dancing, James Thompson—a man who’d already spun her about three times, by Matthew’s count—walked right on up, sly as a fox. “Care to take another twirl around the floor, Miss Elliot?”

  “She ain’t dancing with you, James,” Matthew growled, stepping between them. “And I suggest you back the fuck off from now on.”

  Matthew used his much larger frame to force his rival off… sorely tempted to punch James Thompson square in the mouth. Instead, he gave his lady a twirl in time with the music.

  Unsure when he’d last danced in public, Matthew went through the motions, too busy watching her face and the sway of her body to bother with all the curious stares. When the song ended and the party began to clap, Matthew found her panting, a silly grin on her face, and her eyes aglow only for him.

  “That was quite a dance, Mr. Emerson,” Charlie praised over the din.

  He nodded, resolute. “Again?”

  Teasing, Charlie raised her chin. “If you dance with me twice in a row, people will talk.”

  “So long as you want to dance, you dance with me.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Nathaniel squawked, pushing through the crowd. “Matthew dancing… never thought I would see the day.” A hand came out and pulled Charlie away. “I’m just gonna borrow Miss Charlie for the next jig. That way she can learn which Emerson is better.”

  Aware his brother was goading him, Matthew grit his teeth and refused to make a scene. The song progressed, Matthew only looking away when the sound of his cousin came from his side. “You danced really nice with Miss Charlie… made her all starry eyed.”

  “Shouldn’t you be selling jars?”

  Eli shrugged. “Everything’s sold.”

  “All right then,” he spoke around the cigar. “Pack it on up. I’m calling it a night.”

  Obviously eager to be finished so he could dance with his sweetheart, Eli hopped to it, chattering proudly, “Sheriff Cormac nodded to me real polite like. Greeted me and everything. Can you believe that?”

  Actually, Matthew couldn’t. He, just like the rest of the county, knew Monroe’s sheriff didn’t approve of Eli’s interest in his daughter.

  Leaving his cousin, Matthew cut in on his brother and took back the golden girl for himself. Twice more they danced, and then she whispered she was ready to go home.

  Home… His home. Her home.

  Nathaniel saw no reason to stay behind, the three leaving the truck for Eli and taking Charlie’s car the distance to Devil’s Hollow.

  * * *

  “My belly is emptier than a steel drum.” Nathaniel groused, marching towards the refrigerator.

  Grabbing the remains of a peach cobbler Charlie had made, he went to eat it straight from the dish.

  “Don’t you dare, Nathaniel.” Charlie walked up and snatched the fork straight from his fingers. “You put it on a plate like a grown man, for crying out loud.”

  It was such a female thing to say, and Nathaniel was obviously taken aback it had come from her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Charlie served up three portions of dessert and all three ended up at one of the tables enjoying the treat near the heat of a stove.

  “Your cobbler was mighty fine, Charlie.” Shiny glazed blue eyes looked to her, a wooly head offering an approving nod. “Mighty fine indeed.”

  “You should be thanking Ruth.” Charlie chuckled. “The poor woman has taken pains to teach me the feminine arts. Been real patient and kind. Eli is lucky she loves him.”

  Nathaniel shrugged and sipped his jar. “No doubt he’ll find a way to muck it up.”

  Stacking the plates, Charlie smiled. “After all the work I put into buttering up her daddy, I would be very disappointed if he did.”

  “What you been doin’?” Nathaniel asked, cocking his head at the wicked little smirk on her lips.

  “
Simply pointing out his better traits to distract from the ones Sheriff Cormac doesn’t approve of.”

  “So that’s why the sheriff has been warming up to the idiot.” Nathaniel slapped his knee. “Goddamn. And Eli has no clue does he?”

  Leaning back in her chair, she couldn’t help but smile. “Eli can be a little clueless.”

  Matthew hummed, nodding a bit, and Charlie was certain she’d seen his lip twitch.

  The calm was ruined at the sound of the door banging open.

  A worked up Eli stalked towards the table. “You gotta straighten her out, Matthew. She’s a goddamn bad influence.” Eli pointed at Charlie, continuing to rant. “She ain’t got no right corruptin’ Ruth. Teachin’ her things no woman should know.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” It was the first time Charlie had ever heard Matthew raise his voice.

  “She took my Ruth to the woods and taught her to fire a pistol. My girl was bragging how good her aim had been. Claimed Charlie called her a natural! It ain’t right teachin’ my girl to be mannish.”

  “Aw hell, Eli,” Charlie muttered, standing to look him dead in the eye. “She’s been begging me to take her shooting since you opened your big mouth and told her I hunt—been pestering the hell out of me for weeks before I finally caved. And I told her a puffed up in the chest boy like you would not approve. She didn’t care.”

  Eli got right up in her face. “Men want feminine wives. Not girls who dress like boys, swear like sailors, and brawl. You put ideas in her head, ruinin’ her like you are. What are you going to teach her next? How to throw a punch? Cause you certainly taught her how to slap a man.”

  “What, like this?” Charlie slapped him good and hard, rocking his head to the side. “I didn’t teach her that. It just comes natural when a boy is braying like a jackass.” Sharp finger poking Eli in the chest, her lips drew back in a snarl. “Considering the lifestyle you lead and the type of men you deal with, having your woman know how to fire a pistol could keep her alive.”

  Deflated, Eli held a hand to a stinging cheek. “It’s the man’s job to protect his wife… She don’t need that nonsense.”