Just Kin (Texas Romance Book 6) by McAdoo Caryl

Author:McAdoo, Caryl [McAdoo, Caryl]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

April 17, 1864

Dearest Charles,

The flask was my father’s. I hope you’ll think of me every time you use it. The labeled bottle is our regular whiskey. It’s good, but only aged three years. The other is one of my father’s. Save it for your and Lacey Rose’s wedding night.

I love you,

Your really good friend, Pauleen.

P.S. Buy her something real nice with the money.

Chapter Seventeen

Of course the bread and cheese proved exceptional, high above ordinary fare. Charley unscrewed the flask’s top, and took a sip. She’d filled it with the good stuff. He allowed himself another tiny taste then put it away.

Even if the train stayed on schedule, he’d not make Philadelphia until early tomorrow.

“Why ain’t you in uniform, boy? You a draft dodger?”

He faced the man flapping his gums. The idiot directly across from him glared. At first Charley thought to ignore the loudmouth, but the guy shifted in his seat, revealing a missing leg. “No, sir. I’m on leave.”

“That so? Fight any battles before you run off?”

“A few, the last at Laredo.”

“Where’s that?”

“Texas.”

“Oh, you with Briggs?”

He shook his head. “Buckmeyer.”

“Never heard of him, make any rank?” The man’s tone softened. He pulled a pint bottle—looked to be laudanum—from his coat pocket, swilled a healthy slug, then wiped his mouth. “Me, I made sergeant before they took my leg.”

Charley pulled out the flask, unscrewed the top, and held it out across the aisle. “Need a chaser?”

“Thanks.” He took a medium-sized pull then handed it back. “Wow, now that’s some fine whiskey.”

“Yes, it is. Mis’ess Shriver’s father brewed that over sixty years ago. Been waiting for us in oak barrels all that time.”

“Shriver, you say? My new favorite poison.”

“Jeffcoat is the family name.”

Once the man settled in, Charley found out he could spin a yarn, talk politics, or drink a man’s whiskey when offered with the best of them. But after that first drink, didn’t say another word about Charley not being in uniform.

The Copperhead believed sooner the war was over the better, and the conversation helped the miles go faster.

After a fitful night of napping and changing trains, Charley finally made Philadelphia. He discovered that morning the Wessex hotel indeed employed themselves a Lefty, but the man who ran the gaming room didn’t come in until six.

First card not dealt until seven, the clerk explained, probably thinking Charley wanted into the game.

“Bring plenty of coin.” The desk man handed over the room key.

No need to change the clerk’s opinion of why he’d come. Like Uncle Henry always said, ‘Nowhere was it written a man had to tell everything he knew.’

Just as the clerk predicted, Lefty walked in a few minutes before the lobby’s big clock struck six. After dropping Archibald Beasley’s name, the man’s whole posture changed. “How is Archie? Still sucking blood from widows and orphans?”

Charley hiked both shoulders. “Don’t know about that. We do have a mutual friend in Miss Claudia Jeffcoat. He said you might know Harold Longstreet.”

“I know him. Why you asking?”

“He knows the whereabouts of a friend of mine, hoping he can help me find her.

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