Page 78 of Charlotte's Reckoning
With a meager fifteen dollars in her pocketbook, her trip to the general store didn’t yield many essentials. She looked for items her cook could stretch, but a bushel of potatoes cost her a dollar and a fifty-pound bag of flour two and a half times as much. With meat sky-high, she decided on a whole ham. It would keep for a while and, after the meat was gone, Molly could use the bone for soup. She also bought coffee to avoid a revolt among her staff. Luxuries like cheese, butter, eggs (forty cents a dozen), and milk would all have to wait.
What she wouldn’t give to have a garden, a cow, and a chicken coop out back, but town ordinances—more ridiculous rules—made that impossible.
Charlotte had to hope business boomed the rest of the week because their cupboards were getting bare and feeding the live-in staff didn’t come cheap.
Back at the Red Eye, with only twenty-five cents left and a looming liquor order, Charlotte raided the hidden stash of cash in her room. Not in a coffee can under the floor but in a metal box behind the wall.
Morgan, her most trusted and only literate guard, helped her with inventory. It was quick; they were down to bare bones. Charlotte counted out the $240 he would need to pay the delivery man for eight cases of gin and rum—one-bit bottles, not the expensive stuff this time—and a half-barrel of whiskey. Beer was cheaper, but ice was a luxury she couldn’t afford. Her customers would be disappointed, but she wouldn’t stoop to selling “warm piss,” as Fen called it.
After the food and liquor deliveries, and paying the staff through today, Charlotte went back to her room and counted what she had left—$7.50. She put her head in her hands. If she didn’t get access to her frozen accounts, she’d have to close their doors.
A sharp knock made her jump. Already on edge, she snapped, “What is it?”
Patsy poked her head in. “Everything all right?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean—”
“Sounds like you don’t know what you mean,” Patsy observed.
“You’re right. I’m doing the accounts and see why Fen was always so grumpy. But it was no reason to snap at you. Sorry, Patsy.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve got a visitor downstairs who might cheer you up.”
“I’m not up to guests right now.”
“You’ll want to see this guest. It’s the sheriff, and he smells as good as he looks.”
“I’ll be right down.”
“I thought you might say that,” Patsy said with a smile then shut the door on her way out.
Charlotte rose, stopped by the mirror, and ran a brush through her hair. It was down, and she didn’t have time to put it up. He was a busy man and probably wouldn’t wait for her to primp. She dipped her pinky into her rouge pot and dabbed just a touch on her lips. She looked pale. It had been a difficult week, and lack of sleep hadn’t helped, but it was the best she could do.
Violet and Patsy had their heads together, whispering, when she came down the stairs. “He’s waiting in the parlor,” Vi said, beaming at her.
“I’m sure he’s here to give me the news about Thorn, nothing more.”
“How disappointing would that be?” Patsy asked with a pretend pout.
Violet covered her mouth, concealing her laughter.
Ignoring them, she hurried to the parlor. Pausing at the door, she licked her lips before entering. She didn’t make a sound, but Seth turned from the window, where he’d been staring out, hat in hand.
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you and the other men returned safely.”
“You heard the news?”
She nodded. “I ran into Janelle Jackson in town this morning.”
“I would have come sooner—” he began.
“You hadn’t slept in days when you left. And I can’t imagine you did on the trail. Think nothing of it.”
“Thorn won’t trouble you again, Charlotte.”
“Thank you, Seth,” she whispered.
He approached, stopping inches from her. “Now that it’s settled, I’d like to see more of you.”
