“Something like that.”
Her resignation disappeared, replaced by all the outrage he’d witnessed from her previously. “I don’t forgive you, Mr. Harrison. Further, I’ll thank you not to call me honey or Charlie or any other name for me that forms inside your impertinent, hard head.”
Max couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Sorry, honey, but you’ll get no such satisfaction from me either. Charlie suits you. It suits you just fine.”
She huffed and tossed the half-eaten apple into the weeds by the side of the path. “That was horrid. I’ve had lemons that were sweeter,” she reported.
He smirked but managed not to laugh outright. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her chin lift, and he felt much better about the situation. He ceased speaking to her, allowing her to be left alone with her thoughts. He knew she’d feel better once he got her home and out of his presence.
He thought it would be best if he didn’t try to see her again. That saddened him, as he would have liked to get to know her better, but he felt it much more important that she regain her dignity. He wanted her to thrive in Weston, where she’d no doubt struggle enough. She didn’t need him in her life as a reminder of her first sour taste of the west.
*
The morning after he escorted Charlotte to her room at the boardinghouse, Max returned to the monotony of his daily life. Missing two days of work set him back, even though Tim had been able to shoe the two horses and repair the wagon axle himself. Upon returning to his shop, Max faced three new jobs. The seamstress needed new hangers, the marshal asked for a length of chain, and the saloon owner wanted a new poker table.
A week after he bid Charlotte goodbye and good luck, Max still couldn’t get her off his mind. He remembered the look and feel of her soft skin as he cooled her down with water and the way the light of the sun highlighted the chestnut hair she had pinned in an elaborate bun on her head. He reckoned a lovelier creature didn’t exist anywhere on earth. Her personality charmed him too. Her sharp tongue amused him, but it didn’t fool him. He could tell that she used it to veil her vulnerability, and he admired her grit and ability to stand up for herself. That would serve her well in Weston.
He wanted more than just about anything to see her again, but he believed she wouldn’t want to see him. He’d witnessed her in a compromised state, which he knew to someone as proud as her, likely stung terribly. He felt an ache in his chest when he remembered the way her eyes filled with tears when he threatened to spank her. Perhaps he’d been a bit too strict in that scolding he gave her. He still thought her stubborn pride warranted a good spanking, but she seemed to need a good hug too, and he wished to give her both.
Tim interrupted his thoughts. “Max, might I leave early today? I have something that needs doing before nightfall.”
Max straightened from where he was bent adding coal to the furnace and regarded the boy. “Is it something important, Tim? We’re awfully busy.”
“Yes, sir. It is.”
“Care to tell me what?”
Tim looked down and shifted his weight to one foot. When he didn’t respond, Max frowned. It was unlike Tim to keep secrets from him, and it was also unlike him to ask for favors. He was eager to please, often to a fault. For the first few months of his apprenticeship, the boy was so afraid of doing something wrong that he frequently made errors because of it. It took him a long time to stop cowering after a mistake.
Tim had eventually realized that Max wouldn’t treat him harshly like his father did. Ironically, as soon as he stopped worrying about making mistakes, he all but stopped making them. He’d become a talented blacksmith and showed promise in carpentry. Tim still made every effort to please Max, but did so by that time out of love and loyalty as opposed to fear.
Max held a strip of iron in the fire of the forge. “You’d let me know if you were in some kind of trouble, wouldn’t you, Tim?”
He hesitated for a moment, then responded, “Yes.”
“All right then, leave early if you must.”
Tim thanked him and they discussed the work that needed to be done. Next on their list was the saloon’s poker table. Max left the shop and headed toward the bar, slowing his stride as he passed the schoolhouse in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Charlotte, but she didn’t venture outside if she was there at all. School wasn’t in session for another couple of weeks.
Arriving at his destination, Max swung open one of the double doors, walked in, and planted himself on a stool at the bar. Piano music and laughter filled his ears as he exchanged pleasantries with the bartender and ordered a cold beer.