Chasing Charity Read Online Free PDF

here.”
    “You cain’t, daughter. You heard them men. It ain’t safe.”
    “I’ll get Sam to stay here with me.”
    Mama cackled. “Don’t talk foolish. Sam has a hotel to run.” She bent back down to grope in her bag. “I ain’t aiming to deal harsh with you, baby. It’s just that some things I know best. So we’ll have no more arguments out of you.”
    Charity’s legs wouldn’t hold her. She sank to the side of the rumpled cot and covered her face with her hands. “Why are you doing this?” The ragged words tore at her swelling throat.
    “Are you crying, daughter?” Mama hurried over and plopped beside Charity on the bed, gathering her up in skinny arms. “Don’t, baby. You’ll have me blubbering.” Mama rocked her, patting her hair and murmuring comfort until Charity finally sat up.
    “I don’t want things to change again, that’s all.”
    Mama nodded. “You’ve had more’n your share of unwanted change, sugar. But this is a good thing. Cain’t you see that? It’s an answer to prayer.”
    Startled, Charity looked at her. “You prayed to get rich? That’s against the Good Book.”
    Mama raised a brow at her rebuke. “No, daughter. It ain’t a sin to have money. The sin is in loving what you have more than God who gave it.” She settled back and crossed her arms. “A better life is what I prayed for. If the good Lord has chosen to send me the money to buy one, then by golly, I want it.”
    Charity wiped her nose with the back of her hand and nodded. “So you don’t have to be Mother Dane’s cook anymore.”
    Mama sat up straight and pushed Charity to arm’s length, her eyes fierce with emotion. “No, child. So you won’t wind up Emmy’s.”
    ***
    Buddy left Lee Allen and Jerry Ritter standing on the boardwalk in front of the Lone Star Hotel. They had agreed to meet there for lunch as soon as Buddy secured a rig for transporting Mrs. Bloom and her daughter into town.
    Mrs. Bloom’s daughter...
    There was something about that girl. Something besides skin like fresh cream against piled-up black hair and a waist so tiny he knew he could reach his hands around it. Something besides pond-green eyes and full lips that turned up at the corners even when she frowned. He’d seen pretty girls in his time, but Charity Bloom was different, and he planned to find out why.
    He sure didn’t know what to make of her reaction to good fortune. He’d found oil on a lot of folks’ land, but she was the first he’d ever seen scowl about it. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it made her mad.
    Dwelling on Charity Bloom caused him to pass right by the livery. He caught himself and laughed aloud, then backtracked and entered the stables, still chuckling as he passed through the wide doors.
    “Kin I help you?” A runt of a man with rowdy gray hair stepped out of the shadows wiping dirty hands on the front of his vest. An intolerable stench filled Buddy’s nostrils, growing stronger as the man approached. Buddy realized the smell of sweat, dung, and rotgut whiskey emanated from the proprietor and not from his animals.
    “Yes, sir.” Buddy shoved his hands deep into his pockets to keep from holding his nose. “I’m looking to hire a buggy for the afternoon. Oh, and three saddle horses that I’ll need for a few weeks.” In St. Louis, he had grown accustomed to the motorcar his employer provided, but it was hardly a practical conveyance for the muddy streets of Humble.
    The fellow cleared his throat and spewed a brown stream in the general direction of a spittoon in the corner. Then he leaned against a splintered rail with crossed arms, looking Buddy over. “New in town, ain’t you?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “You got kinfolk in Humble?”
    “No, sir.”
    The old man continued to examine Buddy through narrow, beady eyes. “Anybody local who can vouch for you?”
    Buddy choked back a protest. It would do him no good. “Well, let’s see. I guess that’d be Mrs. Bloom and her daughter.