A Taste of Shine (A Trick of the Light 1)

nore the distracting blonde, all seemed fine and dandy, yet ten minutes later Matthew caught himself once again scanning the crowd, finding nothing but the ordinary dull palette he was so accustomed to in Monroe.

The golden girl was gone; in her place Walter Keck ambled back inside, the man falling face first onto the dirt floor, his eye swelling shut something awful.

Chapter 2

Matthew was only just making his way downstairs, still buttoning up his vest. Looking up when the screen door whined, he found a slender arm pushing it wide, and the woman—the very woman who had so confounded him just the night before—stepping into the grill. Even with the bright sun behind her, he made out the smart dress outlining her hips, the wash of color matching her eyes.

Watching her glance around the room, the outsider’s expression said she was taking in the chairs and tables as if they were familiar, as if she were pleased with all she saw, drew his brows tight. The screen door snapped shut.

Matthew cleared his throat, watching the golden girl walk straight towards him, all polished city elegance. Before she could part her rouge painted lips, Nathaniel came bumbling in from the back, mouth full of pilfered bread.

His brother froze, stopping short at the sight of her.

Matthew reached for his hat, a show of good manners towards the female. Nathaniel followed suit, rubbing crumbs off his shirt before snatching his cap from his head and pressing it to his heart.

Hesitant, she closed the distance between them. “Good morning, gentlemen. I was hoping I might have a private word with you both.”

She received approval in the form of a grunt.

Looking first to his brother, those big blue eyes sparkling at Nathaniel, the female offered a smile coupled with a nod of recognition before settling back on Matthew Emerson’s scowl.

After quickly chewing her bottom lip, she opened her mouth and got to the point. “I want to apologize, Mr. Emerson. The way you were glaring at me last night—it’s my fault really. I should’ve come here first but…” her voice trailed off, “I couldn’t help but enjoy Monroe for a spell before we conducted our business.”

Matthew’s scowl deepened once he noticed Nathaniel shifting his weight between his feet. After a pause, the man said, “I don’t… rightly know what you’re talking about, ma’am.”

She absently smoothed her hands over her skirt. “I’m assuming Eli isn’t here?”

Nathaniel spoke up. “He ain’t.”

She was relieved. “That’s probably for the best. Don’t get me wrong, I really like that boy. My time with him was… it was nice.” Soft finger waves bounced at her jaw, the woman laughing to herself. “But to be honest, Eli is still quite a talker. Hardly stops to draw breath.”

Ever so slightly, Matthew’s brow twitched. Though his voice remained steady, those pale eyes took her in as if she were flat out confounding. “Still quite a talker? How you know Eli?”

The woman’s attention went straight to Nathaniel, an obvious question on her face. The woolly head briefly shook in the negative, a movement not missed by his younger brother.

Cocking her head to the side, she asked point blank, “Mr. Emerson, are you telling me you don’t know who I am?”

The only answer offered was a short throaty hum vaguely implying he had never laid eyes on her before the previous evening.

Nodding, she forced an uncomfortable smile.

Planting her feet, the golden girl straightened her spine and lost all traces of delicacy. “On the night of December 12th, my car broke down a few miles up the road while I was transporting a prisoner to be executed.”

Though she addressed Matthew, Nathaniel nodded, squeezing the hat pressed to his chest. “I offered you five hundred dollars for a ride, a small fortune. You found it unacceptable at first, but you and I came to a soft agreement after a group of thugs attacked your roadhouse—the hired lackeys of a man I informed you was Harrison McCray.” The light in her eye grew dangerous, her tone suddenly gritty. “I shot five of them in your defense and stitched up Nathaniel here in exchange for your chatterbox cousin to drive me to New York. I sent the cash along a few weeks later with a newspaper clipping showing you just who you helped rid this world of. Thanks in small part to you, a man responsible for the murder of at least twenty-seven people got fried and is rotting six feet underground.”

Sucking his lower lip, still holding his rough hat pressed to his chest, Matthew Emerson took an intimidating step closer. She was not the unkempt face and scratchy voice from that night. Where were the harshly angled jaw and beady eyes? The dirty hair cropped short like a man’s? The broad shoulders? The woman standing before him was feminine, proportionate and willowy. She looked like soft things.

Hell, she smelled soft.

“You’re telling me that you…”

She cut him off before he could continue. “Yes, I am.” Matthew was accustomed to people respecting his authority to an extreme, but this woman’s reaction to intimidation, intentional or not, was to bristle. “After our little shootout, I spent three days with Eli, the boy talking my ear off the entire way to Sing Sing. Everything he said about Monroe was…” she hesitated, as if unsure how to explain. “I never thought a nice place like that could exist. I mean, I used to daydream that nonsense, but…” She looked out the window to the greenery. “I suppose this brings me to the first reason I came to see you. I would like to stay.” Seeing the instant judgment in Matthew’s gaze, she quickly amended, “Just for a short time. I’m not here to cause any trouble, and I’m asking your family for permission. I’m aware the Emerson name is a powerful thing round these parts. If you wish it, I’ll drive away tomorrow.”

Matthew fixated on her mouth, remembered the scarred lip of the bounty hunter, realizing her pretty red lipstick was nothing but camouflage.

“I’d like to sit and look at things.” Once the words were spoken neither of the Emerson brothers understood. In fact, they were both looking at her as if she were a peculiar oddity in a freak show. Clearing her throat, she took a small step back as if to escape his looming nearness. “What I mean to say is, the way Eli talked about Monroe—it would be nice to sit and rest in the quiet.” Pursing her lips, she looked to Nathaniel again. “It’s been years since I have had the chance to sit still… and look at things.”

There was a deep throat noise of disagreement. When Matthew’s verdict was made, it was abrasive and clear. “A woman like you don’t belong here.”