Cinderfella (8 page)

As they passed a window, a glimpse of their reflection made Ash realize what a ridiculous sight they made — Charmaine in her prim and proper gown, hair perfectly styled, skin like silk, and him in his work clothes, his hair hanging nearly to his shoulders, his beard rough, his skin tough as old leather.

As they stepped from the boardwalk for the last leg of their walk Charmaine cleared her throat, a soft murmur from deep inside that slender throat that made Ash's own insides tighten.

“Thank you for your help, but I can manage from here.” She tried to take the box from him, as she had in the mercantile, but he didn't let go. Not yet.

He could see the Haley house from here, that landmark at the end of the street. Big, white, majestic — it was an imposing structure. “I've come this far, might as well go all the way.”

She squirmed, so slightly she might not have realized that he could see the feeble rotation of her gently rounded shoulders, the ruffling of pale, dainty fingers. “It's not necessary. . . . ”

“I take it Daddy's home.” He couldn't help the wide smile that crossed his face. Charmaine was becoming more and more anxious, and they both knew why. Stuart Haley would dearly hate to see his precious daughter in the company of Ash Coleman.

“Well, yes, I suppose he is, but it's really not necessary. . . . ” she began again.

“I insist.”

She sighed in resignation and stepped toward the house at the end of the street. Now that the silence had been broken, Ash decided he'd like this conversation to continue. “Fancy masks,” he said, glancing into the box he held and past the brown paper package atop it all. Bright colors, sparkles and spangles, fluffy feathers.

“Yes, they are. Beautiful but frivolous,” she said sharply, but Ash didn't quite buy it. He'd heard her squeal with her own mask on her face, seen her twirl around in pure delight.

“Your Daddy sure is going to a lot of trouble just to find you a husband,” he said casually. “What, there weren't any Easterners who suited you?”

Charmaine stopped in her tracks, and Ash had to take a step backwards to stand beside her.

Her face went white, her blue eyes widened, and her mouth fell slightly open. It was a mesmerizing sight. “
A husband.
I should have known,” she whispered.

“You didn't know?” Well, wasn't he the fool. “Maybe I'm wrong. It's just a rumor I heard from Verna, that you were looking to get married and this party was a chance to meet the men from hereabouts. Verna's not a reliable gossip, not at all dependable.”

Charmaine's mouth snapped shut, her eyes hardened until they were positively frosty, and the color rushed to her face. “No. It makes perfect sense. My father is bound and determined that one of his daughters stay here and since Felicity and Jeanette are married, well, that leaves me. Gullible, dim-witted Charmaine.”

She took a long step forward. “Every fortune hunter for three hundred miles will be at this dratted masked ball. Every man who ever dreamed of having a ranch the size of Daddy's, every
man
in East Kansas!”

Ash definitely didn't like the way she said
man,
as if she wouldn't give two cents for any one of them. “Well, you're bound to get married sooner or later, so you might as well —”

“I'm not getting married, not sooner
or
later,” she snapped forcefully. “Daddy just refuses to accept that as fact.”

He wanted to ask her why, but decided he was better off keeping his mouth shut. It looked like he'd done enough damage already.

As they reached the walkway to the Haley house, Charmaine snatched the box from him, muttered a curt and very ungracious thanks, and stormed toward the front door. That gray skirt moved as ominously as any storm cloud he'd ever seen, and this one was definitely dangerous.

When she reached the steps she turned to face him. Some of the anger had faded from her face, but her eyes were still like ice.

“Are you coming to the party?”

Ash shook his head slowly. This was as close to the Haley house as he wanted to be. Ever.

“I wish you would.”

For a second, a brief and ridiculously wonderful moment in time, he believed her.
I wish you would.
And then she shattered his belief.

“That would show Daddy, wouldn't it,” she said, more thoughtful than angry, “if I spent the entire evening dancing with a Coleman.” She thanked him again, turned her back, and blazed through the front door and into the house.

The walk back to the mercantile was quick, since his long stride was unchecked and his speed steadily increased until he was practically running. People got out of his way, and this time there were no friendly greetings. They took one look at him and knew better.

“That would show Daddy. . . . ”

Nathan was waiting in the wagon, and the supplies were loaded into the bed. All Ash had to do was jump aboard and head for home. The next time Verna forgot supplies she would damn well make another trip to town herself.

He didn't so much as look at Nathan as he set the wagon in motion.

“Oh, dear,” Nathan said as they headed at a quick clip out of town. “I'm guessing things didn't go well.”

Ash didn't respond, didn't so much as glance to the side.

“Too bad. She is fabulously gorgeous, with that fair hair and those magnificently elegant features, and those striking blue eyes. Forgive me for interfering, but it was just so
obvious.
She likes you, you like her —”

Nathan shut his mouth quickly as Ash turned a cold glare his way. “That's the dumbest notion I ever heard.”

“I knew it the moment I walked into the mercantile.” For some reason there was a wide smile on Nathan's face. “She wasn't breathing, you weren't breathing, you both jumped out of your skin when I said hello.” The smile widened to a ridiculously broad grin. “I could have lit all of Kansas if I could've harnessed the electricity in the room.”

Ash snorted and turned his eyes to the road. “You were mistaken.”

“But —”

Ash gave Nathan one more cold glare. “You were mistaken,” he said again, and with a sigh Nathan was blessedly silent.

 

If her father had been home when she'd returned with the masks, Charmaine would've certainly let him have a piece of her mind. How dare he presume to find a husband for her, when she had very plainly told him she didn't want one? He might as well be done with the formalities and auction her off like a prize mare.

But an emergency had taken him out to the range, and it had been late when he'd returned to the house. Charmaine had been very aware of and concerned about her mother's exhaustion, and had decided to refrain from bringing the subject up until she was alone with her father. Then she could let him have it without restraint.

In spite of her fury and indignation, she'd fallen asleep early, weary herself from all the preparations for this now-dreaded ball and somewhat disturbed by the unexpected encounter with Ash.

By breakfast her father had gone for the day, and her mother was preparing to meet the musicians and get them settled in the cabin. Charmaine's anger had cooled by then, and it no longer seemed so terribly important that she confront her father head-on with this bit of news. It was at least in part her fault as much as his. She should've realized from the start what his intent was in throwing this ball. He was so transparent, she should have known from that first day.

Besides, just because Stuart Haley had spread the word that he was looking for a husband for his youngest daughter, that didn't mean she had to cooperate. She didn't have to actually accept any one of the louts who dared to present himself with that intent.

Her father had already shown her that most men had no tolerance for a woman who dared to speak her mind. She had no doubt that any man he seriously presented to her as a potential husband would be of like temper. A discourse on the inadvisability of the corset, the way the romantic novel was leading young women and young men astray, or the impure influence of the bicycle, perhaps even a lecture on the appalling lack of independence afforded women in this country, and any man bearing a hair of resemblance to Stuart Haley would go running into the night.

By the morning of the ball, Charmaine was able to give her father a true, wide smile over breakfast.

 

 

 

 

Six

 

He'd never seen Verna in such a state, and she'd been this way since morning. It was not a pleasant sight, Verna Coleman in a dither.

She'd convinced herself that Charmaine Haley would fall madly in love with one of her boys, and they would all move into the big Haley house and be set for life. She was so adamant, so eager, that she was well on her way to convincing Oswald and Elmo of that possibility.

If only it were true. Ash could close his eyes and see it, the house without Verna and her boys in it. What a soothing and pleasant thought it was. With the three of them gone, he could finally give serious thought to getting married and having a family of his own and making this farm truly his home once again. It was time.

Charmaine and Oswald would make quite a pair, of that Ash was certain, but Verna seemed certain that Elmo had an equal chance of attracting the beautiful and spoiled Charmaine. Only a mother could look at Elmo and see anything of value.

Ash's chores kept him close to the house today, and he'd watched the day's progress with silent amusement. Verna and the boys were alternately giddy and nervous, and displayed more energy than he'd seen from the lot of them in some time. Nathan had slept until quite late, but since rising he'd watched the proceedings with an apparent interest of his own.

The boys were finally bathed and shaved and dressed in their Sunday best. Verna was not quite pleased with Oswald's hair. Each time she passed him she fussed with it a little more, until he'd had enough and drew back to gently slap her hand away.

All Elmo had to do was move and his once neat appearance was altered. The lapels of his navy blue coat fell askew, his shirt came untucked and poked forward, his tie scooted to one side. Verna righted her younger son's clothing every five minutes or so, for all the good it did.

And Elmo already had a headache.

Verna readied herself in bits and spurts. Bathing behind the curtain in the kitchen while the boys dressed, fussing with her hair from her ground floor bedroom while she shouted instructions on manners and dress. Finally, she had no choice but to retreat to her room, behind a closed door, to dress herself.

It was while Verna was safely and quietly in her room that Nathan pulled Ash aside.

“When are you going to get ready?” he hissed. “You haven't much time!”

Ash looked Nathan up and down as if he were a demented stranger. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“You must go,” Nathan insisted, as strident as Verna ever was.

Ash shook his head and headed for the door. Nathan followed closely.

“An event of this kind might never come again to Salley Creek,” Nathan said, his voice rising to a new high. “You can't miss it.”

“I can.”

“But that lovely Miss Haley will be there in her fanciest gown. Wouldn't you like to dance with her, just once?”

Ash snorted as he headed for the pigsty, certain that Nathan wouldn't follow him there. “She's not interested in dancing with a Coleman.”
That would show Daddy . . .
 

“Don't be ridiculous.” Nathan stopped outside the closed pigsty gate. “I'd say she's
very
interested.”
 

. . . wouldn't it, if I spent the entire evening dancing with a Coleman.
“You're wrong.”

Nathan leaned against the fence casually and he didn't say another word, but his eyes remained intent on Ash as he went about his chores. The older man, who was intelligent and witty and at home in any situation, would never understand Ash's misgivings, hell, his fears, about stepping into the Haley house with the intention of
courting
Charmaine.

Verna and the boys came bustling out of the house, a chattering explosion through the front door. Verna was dressed in a lavender gown that was heavy with lace and ruffles and just a bit too snug, and the boys were as spiffy as they were likely to get.

“Ash!” Verna snapped. “Hitch up the wagon! I expected it to be ready by now.”

There was no speed in his step or his movements, but Ash did as Verna demanded, hitching up the grays while his stepmother waited impatiently. “Sorry you had to wait, but I didn't expect you to leave quite this early,” he said as he assisted Verna into her seat.

“Sarah Lewis has invited us to stop by and freshen up before the party begins. She and I will probably go to the Haleys' together.”

Nathan pushed away from the fence. “Maybe you'll see Ash at the party.”

Oswald laughed out loud, and Elmo snickered. Verna just looked horrified. “He can't possibly attend.”

“Why not?” Nathan asked.

“Why, he's. . . . ” Verna looked Ash up and down, and the disdain in her eyes was as telling as the boys' continuing laughter. “ . . . it wouldn't be . . . just look at him!”

“Besides.” Elmo leaned forward to see past his mother and meet Ash's glare. “I didn't have time to milk the cows, so you'll have to do it. And I meant to tell you yesterday that there's a break in the fence on the east edge of the property. It really should be repaired.”

“I fixed that break last week,” Ash said tonelessly.

“This is a new one,” Elmo said with a smile.

“Oh, and I left a pile of dishes in the kitchen. Be a dear and wash them up for me,” Verna said with a smile of her own. “Don't wait up for us. We'll probably spend the night at the Lewises'.”

With that they were gone. Wonderfully, blessedly gone. His peaceful moment didn't last long.