As he neared the house, he slowed, and his blood ran cold. Coming out the front door was Simon Evans, Tim’s abusive father. Before that moment, Max hadn’t been aware that he was boarding there, and he felt a surge of alarm upon realizing Simon lived in such close proximity to Charlotte. The man was charming and, being from Baltimore, had the eastern manners she was accustomed to. Max knew that his manners only served to hide his cruelty, but Charlotte wouldn’t know that, nor would she know that Simon’s wife fled his fists a couple of years ago and women at the saloon refused to entertain him after more than one report of a vicious sexual encounter.
Simon and Max walked toward each other and stopped to exchange obligatory words of greeting and small talk. “Hello, Max,” he said. “How’s my son doing at blacksmithing?” He spoke the name of the trade with a sneer as though it were a vulgar word.
“Very well. He’s a smart lad,” Max responded, forcing a polite tone to carry his words. One of Max’s biggest fears was being unable to protect Tim if Simon decided to exercise his parental rights and insist on the boy’s return. Max knew that if he could remain cordial with the lad’s father, their arrangement was in less danger of changing.
“I will call on you to get my pay at the end of the month,” Simon said with a false smile. “I’m no longer living outside of town, as you can see.”
Max gave him a nod. “I didn’t know you moved to the boardinghouse. I hear it’s a nice place.”
“It has its selling points,” he said with a smirk.
Max didn’t care to hear what those points were, fearing he already knew they included the presence of a beautiful new resident. “Take care, Simon,” he said, and continued on his way.
He walked past the residence of Simon and Charlotte, his hands closing into fists as he did. With much difficulty, he squashed his instinct to hunt Charlotte down and warn her about her neighbor. Doubling back after a sufficient amount of time to avoid having to run into Simon again, he headed toward his shop, trying to settle his consternation. It bothered him knowing that Charlotte was just Simon’s type—young, book-learned, and beautiful.
Aw, hell, he thought, kicking a pebble on the ground. Who was he kidding? She was every man’s type, and he couldn’t very well go around beating them all off with a stick. He found some comfort in telling himself that Simon wouldn’t hurt Charlotte unless they became more than acquaintances, which wouldn’t happen immediately. It would only be after charming her into his clutches that Simon would show his true colors. The thought of it sent a shiver down his spine. Max decided that he would keep his eyes and ears open. He would talk to people in town and keep abreast of the situation. If he learned that Charlotte and Simon were becoming familiar, he would step in and warn Charlotte of Simon’s character, despite it not being his business to do so.
Chapter Three: A Need for Max
The morning following her rough journey with Max, Charlotte awoke feeling better than she had for days. Before collapsing into a deep, twelve-hour sleep, she’d eaten a hearty meal of fried chicken, sweet rolls, and corn. Max had escorted her to her room at the boardinghouse, bid her farewell, and then showed up an hour later. He knocked and announced himself while she was crying on her new bed, feeling hungry, alone, and regretful over her choice to move west. When she realized he’d returned and was standing outside her door, she quickly dried her eyes and donned a robe over her nightdress. She opened the door to find him holding a platter of supper for her to eat in her room. It was a kind gesture. She felt a flood of gratefulness and a desire to throw herself into his arms. Instead, she thanked him politely and waited until he left to dissolve into tears again.
Despite how much the man needled her, it became clear to Charlotte upon reflection in the morning that there was unmistakable kindness and respect in his every action. He’d taken care of her when she was ill, done his best not to embarrass her unnecessarily, and then had seen to it that she was well fed on her first night in town. He was the only person not a stranger in the strange new place, and she hoped he would call on her. Days passed, however, and he didn’t visit. She tried not to let it bother her, but she felt rejected. Her time with him had been far from her finest hour, but she thought he might be at least mildly interested in her well-being. She even flattered herself into thinking that he might fancy her. With every day that passed, however, it became more obvious to her that he didn’t.
She got to know other people in town. She met the marshal, who was nearly as handsome as Max, and the marshal’s wife, Betty, who baked a cherry pie for her as a welcoming gift. Her fellow boarders were friendly too. She spoke occasionally with a boarder named Simon Evans, who was from Maryland. One morning, a week after her arrival, he asked her to breakfast in the dining room of the house, and she accepted.