Texas Cinderella Read online

  “It’s good, Uncle Riley, real good,” Noah assured him.

  Riley accepted his serving of pie from her and tasted it with exaggerated caution. Then his eyes widened in exaggerated surprise. “Well, what do you know? This really is good.”

  Cassie Lynn rolled her eyes at his playacting, but her heart was warmed by the way he was willing to act foolish for the benefit of the kids. Not many a grown man would do that.

  After the meal, Riley offered to help her clean up, and had the children help carry the dishes back to the kitchen.

  “That’s the last of it, Uncle Riley,” Noah said as he and Pru each placed a bowl on the counter. “Mrs. Flanagan said she had something to show us in the parlor. Can we go now?”

  Riley nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll help Miss Vickers with the dishes.”

  Cassie Lynn was starting to get used to having him help her with the housework. “Just give me a minute to take my pies out of the oven.”

  “Are those for your customers?”

  Cassie Lynn nodded. “Daisy over at the restaurant has ordered three for tomorrow. I set them to bake while we were eating.” She placed the second one on the table next to the first. “I’ll make the six fruit tarts for the tea shop later.”

  “Sounds like you’re going to have a late night.”

  She shrugged. It was true, but that was just how things were going to be for a while.

  He studied her a moment, then nodded, as if coming to a decision. “I tell you what. Why don’t you let me handle the dishes while you go ahead and start work on your tarts now?”

  He’d managed to surprise her yet again. “That’s very kind of you, but it’s not necessary. It won’t take much time—”

  “Exactly. It won’t take much time for me to handle this while you work on that.”

  Deciding she was tired of arguing, she nodded. “All right. And thank you.”

  She floured the end of the table that was clear and began mixing her dough. “How was your ride?” she asked as she worked.

  “Both River and I enjoyed it,” he answered, looking back over his shoulder. “It was almost like old times.”

  “Old times?”

  His expression closed off and he angled his face away from her. “Back before the kids and I began this trip.”

  But she got the distinct impression there was something he was leaving unsaid.

  He asked her a question about the tarts she was baking and the conversation veered off into other inconsequential topics. Riley finished with the dishes before she had her tarts ready for the oven.

  Drying his hands on a rag, he met her gaze. “If you’ll excuse me, Cassie, I think I’ll go ahead and get the kids ready for bed.”

  She nodded and went back to work.

  She’d give a pretty penny to know just what had put that unexpected strain into the conversation earlier.

  * * *

  Later, after she’d helped Mrs. Flanagan settle down for the night, Cassie Lynn returned to the kitchen to roll out the dough for her last two fruit tarts. She had just four tart pans, so she not only had to bake them in two batches, but had to wait until the first batch cooled enough to get them out of the pans before she could deal with the second batch. If this bakery business went well, she’d definitely need to purchase additional pans.

  Once the tarts were in the oven, she stepped out on the back porch. Fireflies flickered across the lawn. A dog barked somewhere in the distance, but the sound was muffled and there was no sense of urgency in it.

  She loved this time of day, when the world seemed to be pulling a blanket over itself in preparation for sleep. Most people waited until they were ready to slip into bed to say their prayers. But she preferred to be out here, where she was surrounded by the starry beauty of God’s creation, to speak with the Heavenly Father. She bowed her head and closed her eyes.

  Dear Lord God, thank You for this beautiful day and for the many blessings You’ve gifted to me. By Your grace I have a place to live, and work to occupy my hands. Watch over Mrs. Flanagan as she deals with the trials brought on by her injury, and help me to be a blessing to her. Thank You, too, for sending the Walker family our way—I know that was an answer to my prayer to find a way to help Mrs. Flanagan feel needed and engaged again.

  And please help me to figure out how to best plan for my own future.

  Cassie Lynn opened her eyes again and sat on the top step. She hugged her knees, inhaling deeply of the warm summer air. A slight breeze stirred the leaves of a woodbine vine growing near the far end of the porch, wafting the floral scent around her like a fragrant caress. She found herself thinking of Riley and trying to figure out yet again why she found him so interesting.

  The door opened behind her and she glanced over her shoulder. Riley stood on the threshold, hesitating.

  “I hope I’m not intruding, Cassie,” he said when she met his gaze. “If you’d prefer to be alone, I can—”

  Feeling her languor suddenly slough away, she smiled. “Not at all. I’m just enjoying the evening breeze.” She waved him forward. “Feel free to do the same.” She’d noticed, since she’d invited him to use her given name, that he called her Cassie rather than Cassie Lynn. The first couple times she’d thought to correct him, but then changed her mind, deciding she rather liked it. It seemed more personal and grown-up than the other.

  He stepped outside, then moved to lean a hip against the porch rail beside her.

  “Are Noah and Pru settled in?” she asked.

  He nodded. “They are.”

  Cassie clutched the edge of the step. “I figured you’d have turned in for the night after the day you had.”

  He gave her a direct look. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you alone, if you don’t mind.”

  Her heart did a funny little flutter at that. “About what?”

  “First, I want to thank you for all you did for Pru today. Not just watching over her, I mean. She showed me the books you got for her.”

  Cassie felt her cheeks warm. “I was glad to do it. Pru is a sweet child. And she’s been a good patient. The itching is starting to bother her but she’s doing her best not to complain and is apologetic every time she has to ask for something.” In fact, Cassie was worried that the girl was a little too apologetic.

  “Sweet is a good way to describe her. I’ve always thought she was a bit too fragile. Anyway, I appreciate you going out of your way for her.”

  “It was no trouble to stop at the library and pick out some books for her. In fact, I always enjoy perusing the new titles Abigail has brought in.”

  Then, uncomfortable with his gratitude, Cassie decided to redirect the conversation. “Was there something else you wanted to discuss?”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “I know Mrs. Flanagan said she wouldn’t take any payment for allowing us to stay here, but it doesn’t sit well with me to not pay my way.”

  “If you want me to try to change her mind, I’m afraid—”

  He held up a hand and Cassie stopped speaking.

  “Not at all,” he said. “I just figure, since she won’t take my money, that maybe I can help out in other ways, at least while we’re staying here. Are there any maintenance or other chores that need doing?”

  That’s why he wanted to talk to her? Ignoring the deflated feeling, she nodded. “I’ve noticed that the wire fence around the chicken coop is sagging in a few places. I’d meant to tend to it myself but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

  “Easy enough for me to take care of. What else?”

  “One of the windows in the parlor is stuck tight. I haven’t been able to open it since I moved in here.”

  He nodded. “I can take a look at that, as well. Anything else?”

  Cassie searched her mind for other household needs. “I don’t know i
f this is the sort of thing you would want to take on, but there’s a limb from that old pecan tree around on the east side of the house that’s touching the roof. I’m afraid it might do some damage to the shingles come the next big storm.”

  “I’ll just need a ladder and a saw to handle that. And I’ll take a look at the gutters while I’m up there.” Then he waved a hand. “So far the items you’ve mentioned would take me two, maybe three afternoons. Surely there’s more work that needs doing.”

  “You could always ask Mrs. Flanagan if there’s anything she’d like taken care of.”

  He grimaced. “I’d rather not. Asking her would only give her the opportunity to tell me not to do any of it. Much better if I can just do the work and not say a thing.”

  Cassie did think of something else, but it was probably not the kind of task he had in mind.

  Apparently, something in her expression gave her away, though. “What is it you’re holding back?” he asked.

  “Just a passing thought. I don’t really think it qualifies as a household chore.”

  He raised a brow. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  “All right.” She took a deep breath, wondering what he’d think of her unorthodox idea. “I think Mrs. Flanagan really chafes at not being able to come and go as she pleases. Right now, because of the steps, she can only go as far as the porch.”

  “Go on.” His expression held a hint of puzzlement.

  “I was thinking,” Cassie said diffidently, “if you would offer to carry her down the porch steps while I roll her chair down, then I could push her wheelchair along the sidewalk and she could have a stroll of sorts. Of course, you’d also need to be available to carry her back up the steps at the end of her outing.”

  Riley rubbed his jaw. “You’re right, it’s not exactly what I had in mind.” Then he grinned. “But I can sure sympathize with not wanting to be cooped up inside all day. If you can convince Mrs. Flanagan to let me carry her down the steps, then I’ll be more than happy to perform the service.”

  “Excellent. However, as for convincing her, that might come better from you.” Cassie gave him a knowing glance. “You are, after all, her guest, and as such your suggestions carry more weight than mine would. Just don’t mention it was my idea.”

  “I’m not sure I agree with your thinking, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Of course, once we convince her, it means you would need to keep an eye on the children while I am pushing her chair.”

  “I can do that.” He lifted a hand. “In the meantime, if you can think of anything else, anything at all, that needs a handyman’s attention around here, please let me know.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Now that they’d taken care of what he’d wanted to speak to her about, she expected him to go back inside. But to her surprise, he merely looked out toward the fireflies as if he didn’t have anywhere else to be. “I also want to thank you one more time for inviting us into your home. Pru and Noah really like it here.”

  What about him? Did he like it here, too? “You’ve already thanked us, multiple times. But to be fair, it’s actually Mrs. Flanagan’s home and it was her invitation.”

  He raised a brow at that. “No need to be coy, Cassie. We both know who I owe our current accommodations to, and you must allow me to thank you.”

  “In that case, you’re quite welcome.” She studied him a moment, realizing it wasn’t his gratitude she wanted. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  His expression took on a hint of wariness, but he nodded. “Ask away.”

  “How long have the children been in your care?”

  “About a year and a half.”

  “It can’t have been easy for you, a bachelor trying to make a living and having to care for two young children.”

  He shrugged. “They’re good kids and they are family, so I don’t regret any of it. Except that I can’t make a better home for them.”

  “Perhaps someday you’ll find a place you like enough to settle down in, and then you can provide a nice home for them. A place where they can put down roots and make friends and go to school.”

  “That would be nice.”

  There was a resignation, a sort of regret in his voice that made her think he didn’t believe that would happen.

  “And if you found that place,” she continued, “you could find a kind, matronly housekeeper to help you give the children a feeling of home and permanency.”

  He didn’t respond.

  Cassie Lynn tilted her head to one side, studying him curiously. “That is what you want for them, isn’t it?”

  “Of course.” He paused and she saw his jaw tighten. “We just don’t always get what we want, when we want it.”

  “True. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t make the attempt.”

  He didn’t say anything to that, just kept looking at the fireflies with an unreadable expression on his face.

  Cassie realized she was trespassing on his privacy, just as Mrs. Flanagan had done earlier, and gave him an apologetic smile. “But they’re your children, and I’m sure you’re doing the best you can with them.”

  Then she stood and brushed at her skirt. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get my tarts out of the oven.”

  He nodded. “I think I’ll stay out here a little longer, if you don’t mind. I’ll be sure to close the house up good and tight when I go in. And I’ll check on the kids one last time before I turn in.”

  “Don’t worry over much about the children. My room is right next to theirs, so I’ll hear them if they should wake and need anything.”

  Cassie opened the oven a few moments later and was pleased to see the crust on the tarts was a nice golden brown. She pulled them out and set them on the table beside the pies.

  She took care of the stove, then glanced out the back door before heading to her room. All she could see was the shadowy silhouette of Riley, who now sat on the porch step. There was something achingly lonely about that sight, something that made her want to go back out there and let him know he had a friend.

  Instead, she turned and headed toward the bedrooms. She walked quietly past her door and paused outside the room where the children were sleeping. She opened the door and peered into the shadowy interior. Both were turned on their sides, and neither stirred at her intrusion. All she heard was their rhythmic breathing.

  She smiled softly at the sweetness of that sound. Children were such precious gifts. She supposed she couldn’t blame Riley for being so protective of them.

  But how could she help him understand that he and his charges were safe here, that no one intended them harm?

  Chapter Eleven

  After Cassie went inside, Riley settled down on the spot she’d vacated. It was surprising how difficult it had been not to confide in her. He’d detected a faint note of censure in her voice and he’d found himself longing to replace it with admiration.

  Which was altogether vain and totally irrelevant to the situation at hand. Because he had more than himself to worry about—he had those two kids sleeping inside counting on him.

  Still, what if he could trust her with their story, tell her why things were the way they were? Being able to share that burden with someone, someone he could truly trust, would be such a gift.

  But such thoughts were getting him nowhere and he’d had a long day. Riley placed his hands on his knees and levered himself up. Time to turn in.

  As he stepped inside, he thought about what an unexpected turn this day had taken. From his restless night, to the unexpected invitation to move in here, to this feeling of almost being part of a family. Not that these cozy new accommodations didn’t come with their own set of issues.

  His first day at the livery had gone well, and Fred Humphries was an easy man to wo
rk for. And even though Riley had been worried about how Pru was doing, and whether he’d made the right choice in trusting the ladies to not get too close to their secrets, knowing that the children were being well looked after when he had to be away had brought him a measure of peace.

  Trains stopped at the depot here in town twice a day, regular as clockwork, at ten in the morning and at three in the afternoon. He’d negotiated with Mr. Humphries to meet both trains each day to see if anyone needed to rent a wagon or have freight delivered. So Riley would be able to keep an eye on incoming visitors to town.

  This was one of the benefits of stopping off in a small town—it was much easier to keep an eye out for his stepbrother, Guy. The disadvantage was that it was much more difficult to melt into the background and not stand out.

  Riley paused at the door to the kids’ room, and something in his chest tightened as he watched them sleep. Such precious little lives, and they’d been entrusted to his care. He simply could not fail them, doing so was unthinkable.

  He stepped away and moved quietly to his attic room. Looking around, he smiled at the little touches that Cassie had gone to the trouble of adding at some point this afternoon. She’d placed a cloth on the crate he was using as a bedside table, and topped it with an oil lamp. There was also a braided rug next to his makeshift bed. A part of him wondered if she was just a little too good to be true. Perhaps it was cynical of him, but he’d been fooled too many times in his life to be completely trustful.

  Still, it was hard to imagine there was any falseness or treachery behind the innocence he sensed in her. In fact, if it was only his own well-being at stake, he’d trust her with the whole story.

  * * *

  When Riley stepped into the kitchen the next morning, he was surprised to see Cassie sitting at the table hunched over a cup of coffee.

  She glanced up with a smile, but he saw the circles under her eyes and the weary lines at her mouth.

  He grabbed a cup, moved toward the stove and lifted the coffeepot. “Rough night?” he asked as he sat down across from her.