Ch.3

The Mesa Luna was a busy place.

Over the last year, Charlotte had come to learn this, she'd sit behind the bar, staying out of Walter's way, and watch all the people that came through. It seemed that by eight o'clock in the evening, every resident of Cainsville was packed into the worn bar, it was where they congregated. She'd thought it was strange, at first. There were so many women there, hardly dressed in presentable clothes, and men who drank until they couldn't sit straight on the bar stools. But, in a strange way, it was like the family dinners on crappy television. Everyone knew everyone and even when they were mad at each other, people still laughed and talked and gossiped.

It made her smile.

"Hey Lottie!" Lowell stepped up to the bar, smiling brightly at her on the floor. She gave him a small smile in return. She'd only met Lowell a few times since she'd gotten to Cainsville. She'd learned that he was the sheriff's son. That was the same night she'd learned that the sheriff was a meth addict who kept Walter's business under wraps as long as he got a good discount on the powder and that everyone in Cainsville knew about, and was probably involved in, her father's business. Lowell was always sweet to her when he came around, but Charlotte still wasn't too keen on getting close to anyone. It was a secret fantasy she had, that one day her momma would come back for her. Take her away from this hell and back into the normal world. She knew it was a hopeless dream, but it didn't stop her from wishing. "Whatcha doin sittin in back there all by your lonesome?" the boy continued, hiking himself onto one of the stools.

"Walter doesn't want me out there yet. Says I should stay out of reach." Lowell nodded like he understood. But no one could understand Walter's motives for anything. It was just the way the man was, his brown eyes didn't give anything away if he didn't want them too. He protected her from the people in the town, but he handed her over to Mac like she was a Christmas gift.

"Do you want some company?" Charlotte glanced down at the book she'd brought with her. She'd finished it five times since Walter had gotten it for her, along with the other nine he'd bought. She didn't have the courage to ask for a new batch, so she'd just started rereading the old ones, no one paid enough attention to notice anyway. She shook her head, tapping the cover with her nail.

"I'm gonna finish this." Lowell looked skeptical, eyeing the cover thoughtfully.

"You were reading that one last week." Apparently someone noticed her after all. His head disappeared beneath the bar for a second, when he came back up, he was holding two novels in his hands. "If you don't want to talk, then read something you haven't yet." He slid the books across the bar top toward her. Charlotte pushed herself off the floor, picking up the books and reading the backs.

"Where did you get these?"

"Grocery has 'em sometimes." He shrugged.

"Thank you," she started to say more, but Rick came up behind Lowell, slapping the younger boys shoulder roughly.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" Lowell swung around, eyes wider. He was gonna start stuttering soon.

"Rick leave him alone," Charlotte demanded childishly. Rick glared at her.

"Keep your mouth shut, aren't you supposed to be staying quiet and out of the damn way?" Charlotte shrunk back. Usually, Rick was pretty nice to her, easy going, but it was obvious he'd been drinking pretty heavily.

Alcohol made him mean.

"I…I was jus-just gonna give her some..."

"Just gonna give her some what? Get the fuck outta here before I decide to tell Walter you were working your way into his girl's pants. Or maybe I should tell Mac?" Lowell paled considerably under Rick's threatening gaze. He disappeared so fast that, had it been a cartoon, he would have had smoke left in his wake. It would have been comical, had Charlotte not felt so bad. Everyone that talked to her got in trouble. She wished people would stop trying. "Stupid little bitch," Rick growled, leaning against the bar, "Keep flaunting yourself and you're gonna end up like one of those girls." He pointed out across the bar to where he and Mac were sitting. It was a corner booth, hidden a little out of the way and covering in shadow because the hanging light didn't work. Mac had one of the girls in question on her knees in front of him. Charlotte couldn't see what she was doing, but by the look on her half-brother's face, she could take a good guess.

"I…" Charlotte couldn't say anything as she watched Mac's head fall back; his chest rose and fell rapidly with labored breaths she couldn't hear. She felt her cheeks start to burn as her eyes fixed on the lewd sight. The whole town could see what they were doing, but Mac didn't care, he never did. Suddenly, Mac's head snapped up, eyes meeting hers, he smiled lecherously. He jerked the girl's head up, pressing his mouth against hers all the while staring at Charlotte. She couldn't explain why the scene affected her so much, but she forced her eyes to Rick's in an attempt to break the spell. "I don't want to be one of them," she stated with so much conviction, Rick raised an eyebrow at her.

"Then don't." The two words were so simple, but held so much meaning. Maybe he wasn't as drunk as she'd thought. He walked away then, grabbing another bottle of beer from her side of the bar as he turned. Charlotte didn't watch him go; she didn't want to see Mac like that again. She turned instead, heading to the backroom of the bar where Walter was. She left the books forgotten on the counter.

"What are you doin back here?" her father asked, his soft accent seemed almost soothing compared to raunchy noise in the bar. She didn't answer him though; she knew he didn't really care. She sat on the edge of his desk, giving him a small smile as she did. Walter watched her, dark eyes revealing nothing in his head. Then he reached out, Charlotte flinched, expecting a slap for disturbing him. Instead he brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face, nodding when it was fixed. He was kind of OCD about stuff like that, but he never really showed it and the rare tenderness of the action made her smile a little wider. "You look like ya mother when you do that." Charlotte's nose crinkled, she didn't want to be anything like her mother. He left her alone, returning to the account books he was working on. After a while of Charlotte correcting him, Walter handed the logs to her, challenging her to do better.

She did.

It was the first time she'd ever gotten praise from Walter. Not that it was much, a simple nod of the head and a quirk of his lips. But it was enough for her to know that she wanted him to give her that look more often. She asked Walter to pull out all of his accounts, for the bar and the canyon, and got to work redoing all the logs for the last four years. Walter watched her work for a while, but she didn't notice. The world became a blur as she wrote out the problems, her mind working through the numbers quick and precise.

She must have fallen asleep at some point. When she woke up again, the sun was shining through the window of Walter's office, Walter was gone, and the books Lowell had left for her were sitting on the coffee table next to the couch she didn't remember moving to. She wondered if Walter had been the one who'd moved her, but after a little thought, she decided it probably wasn't. She was small, but Walter was still an older guy, he probably wouldn't have been able to carry her that far.

But if he hadn't done it, who had?