Page 96 of Charlotte's Reckoning
As with so many of the obstacles in her life, what choice did she have except to face them head-on? If she was still living here when the snows of January arrived and the winds caused drifts some up to six feet deep,traveling to town would be impossible, and she’d have to be prepared, including a roof cave-in!
Charlotte refused to dwell on anything negative at the moment, even though that was the state of her life currently. She forced those thoughts out of her head to enjoy what remained of her bath, what promised to be a rare treat.
She wouldn’t exactly call it comfortable, but she was drifting in a state of hazy exhaustion as a sudden, sharp knock on the door shattered her tranquility. She sat up with a splash, sending droplets of water everywhere. Who would call at this late hour?
She didn’t have to wonder for long. When she didn’t answer quickly enough, a deep voice called, “Charlotte, it’s Sheriff Walker.”
“What’s he doing here?” she muttered, eyeing the towel and robe she had laid out on the bed.
Did she rush to the door, wet from the bath, or ignore him and hope he went away? She was leaning toward option B when he thwarted her plan.
“I know you’re at home. I can see a lamp burning.”
“I’m not receiving visitors,” she called. “Particularly uninvited ones,” she added, annoyed at being interrupted, especially by him. “Go away.”
“We need to talk.”
“I’m busy and have nothing to say to you. Get off my land and don’t return without an invitation.” She waited, unmoving, while listening intently. When she heard nothing more, she uttered, “And don’t hold your breath waiting for it to arrive.”
Slowly relaxing, she sank into the water once more. This time, instead of drifting in a haze, she shivered. It was tepid, at best. She should get out, dry off, and dress, but that all required energy she didn’t have.
“No wonder you didn’t answer the door.”
At the deep voice coming out of the darkness of the next room, Charlotte shrieked, her body jerking violently, sending suds and water everywhere, on her face, into her eyes, and sloshing onto the floor.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. Here’s a towel.”
She reached for it blindly, grabbing onto not the bath sheet she planned to wrap up in afterward but a much smaller hand towel.
“How did you get in here?” she demanded as she wiped soapy water from her eyes. “I’m sure I locked the door.”
“It wasn’t difficult. All it took was a little jiggling. That lock is little more than flimsy wire and a joke, frankly.”
“Why are you here?” she demanded, glaring up at him, eyes stinging.
“I came by to make sure you’re safe out here.”
“As you can see, I’m fine. You may go.”
“A woman living alone in the woods is insane, Charlotte. Come back to town. You can stay at the inn until we figure everything out.”
“I went to the inn,” she informed him, feeling vulnerable sitting naked in her tub with him looming over her, and from what he was forcing her to admit. “They refused to rent a room to a whore. As did the three boarding houses in town. This was my only option.”
Silence followed. When she met his gaze, she read pity and concern. She wanted neither and bristled. “This is my home, bought and paid for, and I intend to stay. You’ve done your duty, Sheriff. Please, leave.”
“What happens when someone dishonorable comes calling?”
“Someone already has!” she snapped.
“Are you always this prickly?”
“When an uninvited guest interrupts me in the tub and refuses to leave, how could I be anything else?”
She regretted mentioning the tub when his eyes lowered to the water. “The bubbles are almost gone,” he needlessly observed.
“Yes, and the water is getting cold.”
“I can see that,” he drawled, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
