Texas Cinderella Page 15

  She reached up guiltily to swipe at it, but missed.

  “No, here, let me do it.” He stood and reached over and brushed the hair from her face, then used his thumb to rub away the powdery substance. The sound of her soft, breathy inhalation made him pause as his gaze shot to hers. Had she felt it, too, that warm, tingly spark when his hand touched her face?

  From the way her eyes darkened and her breathing quickened, he’d guess she had.

  There was such a sweetness about her, such an enticing mix of courage and vulnerability, innocence and awareness.

  Did she have any idea how she affected him?

  He lowered his face, keeping his gaze locked with hers, looking for any sign that she didn’t want this kiss he was aching to give her. But all he saw was invitation. When she tilted her face up in anticipation, he eagerly closed the distance and allowed himself to deliver the kiss he’d been longing to give her almost from the moment he’d met her.

  And she seemed just as eager as he. It was sweet and tender and wonderfully electric. He’d never experienced anything quite like this before.

  Then reality returned and he broke it off, pulling her into a hug, tucking her cheek against his chest, trying to get his breathing back under control.

  What was he doing? He couldn’t offer Cassie any kind of future that included him, and she was not a woman to be trifled with. She was a lady—sweet, generous, tenderhearted, and she deserved to be treated as such. Oh, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry for what he’d done. Holding her in his arms, tasting the sweetness of her lips, feeling her heart beat against his—the memory of this perfect moment would stay with him for some time to come.

  But how could he undo what he’d just done?

  * * *

  Her first kiss. As she leaned her head against the warmth of Riley’s chest, felt his hand rub small circles on her back, Cassie let all the wonderful, head-spinning sensations roll over her. She’d never imagined it could be this way. The emotions she felt from him—gentleness and possessiveness, tenderness and strength—made her feel cherished and needed. She’d never felt as if she mattered to someone in quite this way before.

  Did he sense it, too, this connection, this feeling of meant-to-be?

  Oh, he had to. He wouldn’t still be holding her otherwise.

  When they finally separated, Riley smiled down at her with such tenderness that it took her breath away. Could there be a future for them, after all?

  Then his expression shifted and some distance crept in. Was he regretting having kissed her? If he apologized she would be absolutely mortified.

  “Cassie, I—”

  To stave off whatever was coming, she turned to the stove as if she hadn’t heard him. “Time to check on my tarts—don’t want them to burn.”

  But he didn’t accept her not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject. He closed the distance between them and captured her hands with his. “The pies will be fine for another few minutes. We need to talk.”

  He gently drew her back to the table. Once she’d taken a seat, he pulled up a chair beside her and sat, as well.

  She didn’t meet his gaze, didn’t want to see what might be reflected there.

  After a few moments of silence, he grasped her hand again. “Cassie, look at me.”

  Reluctantly, she finally glanced up. His serious, what-do-I-say-to-her expression confirmed her worse fears.

  “I want to apologize to you.”

  There they were, the words she’d dreaded hearing. He was sorry he’d kissed her.

  He squeezed her fingers. “I can see what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. The apology is not because I regret that kiss. Kissing you was something I’ve wanted to do almost from the moment I saw you, and it was every bit as wonderful as I imagined it would be.”

  Still confused, she searched his eyes, looking for some insight.

  “What I do need to apologize for is any expectations it might have given you. Nothing has changed as far as my situation. I still can’t let Guy catch up with us and try to take the kids. So when Noah is able to travel, we will be leaving Turnabout and continuing our never-ending journey.”

  “I see.” He wasn’t asking her to go with him. Was he waiting for her to hint that she was willing to go? She gathered her courage in her hands. “Did you ever consider that you don’t have to do this alone?”

  Surprise flickered in his expression, along with some other emotion she couldn’t quite identify.

  He gave her hand another gentle squeeze. “No matter how much I might want that, I could never allow it. Not only because of how unfair it would be to that other person, but because of what a distraction it could be from my mission.” He stood and paced across the room, as if unable to stay still. “Having someone else to be responsible for, to worry over, is not something I can add to my plate right now.”

  Was that how he saw her, as another burden to bear? Everything in Cassie screamed to tell him that she was perfectly able to care for herself, that she would be more than willing to help him keep the children safe.

  But she knew that wasn’t something he’d ever agree to. No, the best she could do right now, if she truly cared for him and wanted to help, was to relieve him of any guilt he might be feeling. “You should know I don’t regret that kiss, either. You didn’t force it on me, and I held no illusions as to your willingness to settle down here permanently.”

  She stood in turn, moving back to the oven. “At least now, when I do eventually marry, I will have an idea of what a kiss from a man should be like.”

  The silence stretched out, vibrating with an emotion she couldn’t quite name, but which was anything but comfortable.

  Finally, she heard him straighten the chairs at the table. “I’m glad I could be of service.” His voice was strained, controlled.

  She didn’t respond—after all, what could she say to that? Instead, she kept her back to him as she removed the tarts from the oven. When she finally turned around, he had made his exit.

  She set the kitchen to rights, trying not to think of anything but the task at hand. Then she padded down the hallway and checked on the children. Both were asleep.

  Leaving just a sliver of space between the door and the frame, she moved to her own room.

  She managed to keep her emotions under control until she slipped under the covers. How in the world had the evening gone from such a high note to that disaster? That kiss had been so wonderful—everything a first kiss should be. And she had wanted it with all her heart. Like Riley, she didn’t regret that it had happened.

  But would she be able to face him in the morning?

  And how in the world had she managed to fall in love with the man in such a short space of time? Because she was in love with him. And now she knew why her mother had warned her about falling in love—because it hurt. It hurt a great deal.

  But even so, it was so achingly sweet...

  Cassie rolled on her side and peered into the darkness. Despite what she’d said, she couldn’t go through with her marriage plan, not feeling as she did about Riley.

  But she couldn’t go back to her father’s farm, either.

  Which left her with what?

  She closed her eyes and poured out her fears, questions, dreams and desires in a prayer.

  And sometime around midnight, she finally fell asleep.

  * * *

  Riley lay in his attic room, calling himself all kinds of a fool. What had he been thinking, kissing her that way? Cassie deserved so much better than that. So much better than him.

  Still, that kiss, and her innocent, trusting response to it, had been every bit as sweet as he’d imagined it would be. If only his life was his own...

  He placed an arm behind his neck as he stared up at the night-shrouded rafters. Despite what
he’d said about marriage, he knew they weren’t all bad. His parents had seemed very happy together. He remembered lots of playful teasing and laughter in their home. And even when the barn had caught fire, something very scary to a six-year-old boy, his parents had pulled together and drawn strength from each other, and from prayer.

  It was so tempting to ask Cassie to come with them, or at least wait for him, especially after the meeting in Tyler. Since his and Claypool’s talk with Dixon, Riley was much more confident that this whole running nightmare would come to an end soon. But there was no guarantee, and he’d probably need to move on from Turnabout before that happened. Was it fair to Cassie for him to speak of all that now? Especially knowing she had to face her father with an answer soon.

  But the thought of her proposing to the blacksmith set Riley’s teeth on edge, made his stomach twist. To think of her bargaining her way into a loveless marriage turned him inside out. And it was so unnecessary. She had so much strength and courage when it came to other aspects of her life. Why couldn’t she use those same qualities in standing up to her father?

  Should he try to reason with her on that one more time? Perhaps he could enlist Mrs. Flanagan’s help on that score. Or was the woman on Cassie’s side? She had mentioned the widow was helping her with this husband-hunting scheme.

  The way Cassie had turned from him so quickly after that kiss concerned him. Had she been upset or merely embarrassed? Or had it been something else altogether?

  Which brought his thoughts full circle—what should he do now?

  Chapter Eighteen

  “About last night...”

  Cassie didn’t look up from her work at the stove. She had to keep an eye on the eggs in the skillet, after all. “Yes?”

  “You have to know that I’ve grown to care about you a great deal,” Riley went on.

  “And I you.” She really didn’t want to rehash this again. “But you have responsibilities to the children and can’t deal with any other distractions right now. You made that perfectly clear last night, and I understand your reasons. The children come first with you, and that’s how it should be.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “In fact, I admire you for it. I just wish you would let me share that responsibility with you.”

  She heard the rattle of dishes as Riley retrieved a cup from the cupboard, and then forced herself not to tense as he reached past her to lift the coffeepot from the stove. Her effort met with mixed success. She was so attuned to him now, so affected by his nearness, that she couldn’t completely tamp down her reaction.

  He didn’t say anything else, but she could feel his stare on her as she worked. There was a tension between them now—did he feel it?

  She put his plate of eggs and biscuits on the table in front of him. The butter and jam were already there.

  “I hope you don’t mind eating alone,” she said as she wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m running a little behind this morning and I need to go tend to Mrs. Flanagan.”

  Something flickered in his expression, but he merely nodded.

  She moved toward the hallway, then paused and turned back to him. “By the way, I have something I need to take care of today, and it’ll probably take me most of the morning. Do you think you can stay around here to help out Mrs. Flanagan and the children until I return?”

  “Of course. Just give me time to run by the livery and let Mr. Humphries know I won’t be available this morning.”

  Riley pushed his chair back and made as if to stand, but she waved him back down.

  “There’s no need. I’ll be going by the livery and I can let him know for you.”

  He studied her as he settled back in his seat, as if wanting to ask a question. But he just nodded once more and retrieved his fork.

  Which was just as well, because she didn’t want to discuss her errand with him.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Cassie stopped the buggy in front of her father’s home. She sat there a moment, letting the familiar smells and sights wash over her. Life here hadn’t been all bad. In fact, she had very fond memories of her childhood. Her father had always been more interested in the farm than in people, but her mother had had a way of softening him, of making him stop occasionally and take time to enjoy himself.

  It was only after her mother’s passing that he’d hardened, grown stricter, had retreated into the world of his farm with a focus that shut just about everything—and everyone—else out. Cassie would suffocate if she allowed herself to be sucked back into that world.

  The door opened and Dinah stepped outside. A wide smile split her face. “Hi, Cassie Lynn.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “It’s so good to see you. We never get visitors out here.”

  Cassie climbed down from the buggy and returned Dinah’s smile. She should have made more of an effort to come for an occasional visit. Dinah must have been lonely as the only female in this household of men.

  “Hi. I come bearing pie.”

  “Well, bless your heart, your pa and the boys are going to love this. They’re always telling me how much better your pies are than mine.”

  Cassie mentally winced as she approached the house. Yet another reason she should have befriended her sisterin-law sooner. Her father and brothers were anything but tactful. “Don’t pay them any mind—they just don’t take well to change. I’m sure your pies are wonderful.”

  Dinah held the door open and allowed her to enter the house first. Cassie looked around, noting the changes that had been made since she’d moved out. There were new curtains on the parlor windows and a pretty glass vase on the mantel that had replaced the canning jar she’d used to hold wildflowers in the past. And the cabinets had been painted a bright yellow. She was impressed that Dinah had been able to convince her pa to do even that much. Had Verne stepped in and backed her up? Or had Dinah up and done it herself without asking? Whatever had happened, Cassie’s respect for her sister-in-law bumped up a notch.

  “The place looks nice.”

  “Thanks.” Dinah seemed inordinately pleased by the faint praise. “I have some ideas of the things I want to do with our own place once we move in.”

  “I’m sure it’ll look lovely. You seem to have a real knack for decorating.”

  “Thank you.” She touched her hair nervously. “It’s nice to hear that. Menfolk don’t really appreciate what little touches can do for a home.” Then she waved a hand. “But here I go, nattering on. Was there a specific reason you came all this way?”

  “I’m here to talk to Pa. Do you know where he is right now?”

  Dinah studied her face a moment, then nodded, as if satisfied. “You’re not moving back here, are you?”

  Cassie shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

  “Good for you.” Then she gave her a speculative look. “Is it because of that Mr. Walker?”

  If only she could say yes. “No, he plans to move on after his niece and nephew get better.”

  “Too bad.”

  Cassie couldn’t agree more.

  “Your pa’s over in the barn, I think. He said something earlier about the milking stall needing some work.”

  Cassie thanked Dinah, then headed for the barn. When she reached it, she stood in the doorway for a few moments, letting her eyes grow accustomed to the dim interior. She saw her father at his worktable, hunched over something he was applying a file to.

  She loved him, she truly did—he was her father, after all. And she was very afraid he was going to be hurt by what she had to say to him. But it had to be said.

  She stepped forward, leaving the bright sunshine behind her as she crossed into the half-light of the barn. “Hello, Pa,” she said softly.

  His head came up, a confused frown on his face. As soon as he recognized her, though, he smiled and pushed back his stool. “Well, hi there, Cassi
e Lynn. Is Irene Flanagan finally back on her feet?”

  “No, sir.”

  He frowned, his confusion returning.

  “I came to tell you I’ve reached a decision. I won’t be moving back here once Mrs. Flanagan is able to get by on her own again.”

  The frown turned stern, authoritarian. “Now see here—”

  She held up a hand. “Please, Pa, let me finish. I won’t be abandoning you completely. Once Dinah and Verne move out, I’ll come by here every Tuesday and Friday to cook and clean and do whatever else you need me to do.” Those were the days the Turnabout Gazette came out. She figured she’d bring a copy when she came and deliver a little of the outside world to this isolated farmstead. If Pa didn’t want to read it, perhaps her brothers would.

  She pulled her thoughts back to the here and now. “But I won’t be living here,” she said firmly.

  “Where will you stay?”

  “Mrs. Flanagan is going to be my business partner in the bakery and she’s offered me a room.” Cassie swallowed, trying to hold on to her calm demeanor. “I’m sorry if this grieves you, Pa, but I’m a grown woman now and I need to make my own life.”

  “A woman needs a man to look out for her. If she doesn’t have a husband, it falls to her family to fill that role.”

  “That may be true for some women, but not all. Not for me.”

  Her father’s disapproving expression didn’t relax.

  On impulse she stepped forward and embraced him in a hug. After a moment she felt his arms go around her. “I worry about you, baby girl. The world isn’t kind to women without a man’s protection.”

  Her heart melted at those words, this proof that he was still her loving, albeit stern, pa.

  She stepped back and smiled at him. “You can come to town and check on me whenever you like,” she said, a gentle teasing tone in her voice. “And I just promised to return here twice a week.”

  “You’ve got your ma’s stubborn streak, that’s plain as day.” Then he nodded, as if finally accepting her decision. “That will stand you in good stead, I suppose.”