Texas Cinderella (15 page)

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

“A
bout 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, Cassie 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.”

Cassie bit her lip, the old feelings of guilt ambushing her with unexpected force at his words. “I'm so sorry, Pa. About Ma, I mean.” Her voice cracked on the last word, but she managed to hold the tears back.

Her father appeared startled by her sudden shift in mood. “What's the matter, Cassie girl? What about your ma?”

“It was my fault she was out in that garden, my fault she's gone. If I'd been doing my own chores—”

His arms went around her again. “Gracious, girl, you been carrying that around with you all this time?”

He set her back and stared solemnly into her eyes. “You got it wrong, Cassie Lynn. Your ma asked me to take her to town that day. She wanted to buy some fabric to make new curtains for the parlor. If I'd said yes instead of telling her what a wasteful notion that was, she might still be alive today.”

“Oh, Pa, no.” His confession touched Cassie, helped her relate to him in a way she hadn't in a very long time. “You can't go blaming yourself.”

He brushed her hair with his gnarled, work-roughened hand. “I can and I did, for a long time. But I finally realized that thinking on such things does no one any good. You've got to trust in the Lord, forgive yourself and move on.”

Easier said than done.

He must have seen something of her thoughts in her face because he squeezed her hands. “Now that you know the part I played, you can't take the blame on your shoulders without shifting some of that burden on mine, as well.” He folded his arms across his chest. “We're tied together in this. You think about this anytime you go thinking the Lord ain't big enough to forgive us.”

His words were a balm to the ache that had been gnawing inside Cassie for a very long time.

A few minutes later, as she turned the buggy back toward town, she felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

She decided that, for the time being, she wouldn't mention this visit and its purpose to Riley. He might misunderstand her motives, might feel an added layer of guilt for something that had been no one's decision but her own.

She also didn't want him to feel that she'd read anything into last night's kiss that he hadn't intended.

If he inquired about her husband hunt, she would merely respond that it was progressing just as it should.

He'd be gone in a week and that would be that.

And if she was lucky, she'd wait until then to fall apart.

* * *

Riley had spent the morning wondering just what sort of business it was that had taken Cassie away from the house. She'd said she was going by the livery, and the blacksmith's place was just down from there. Was she proposing to Edmondson? It was all Riley could do not to march out there and stop her.

But he knew he had no rights where she was concerned.

Still, as one hour turned into two and then three, he found himself growing concerned on her behalf. Had she had to go down to the second or even the third choice on her list? Or was she merely spending time with her new fiancé?”

It was nearly eleven o'clock when Cassie returned to the house.

“How are the kids?” she asked promptly.

There was a new look about her, as if she'd accomplished some major feat, as if a burden had been lifted from her. So had she gone through with her proposal, after all? If so, why didn't she just announce that she had a fiancé?

Pulling his thoughts back to her question, Riley answered as coherently as possible. “Noah is complaining about the itching. Mrs. Flanagan's been trying to entertain him with stories and games, but she's been meeting with mixed results. ”

“Oh dear, I don't know whether to feel more sympathy for Noah or Mrs. Flanagan. I'll go check on them in just a moment.”

Riley decided to do a bit of subtle probing to see if she'd reveal anything. “Did you get your business taken care of?”

“I did.”

That still didn't give him the answers he wanted, so he tried again. “It all went well, I hope.”

Cassie nodded, a satisfied expression on her face. “It wasn't an easy step to take, but yes, it ended even better than expected.”

She didn't elaborate, and other than out and out asking her what she'd been up to, he had to be satisfied with that.

Later, as Riley brushed Duchess with long even strokes, his mind was still on that cryptic conversation. He'd just unhitched the animal from the freight wagon and the horse was now contentedly munching some oats while Riley groomed her.

Cassie had remained closemouthed as to the nature of her errand all through lunch and the cleanup after. Perhaps he'd misread her intent.

If she had proposed marriage this morning and one of her three candidates had accepted, surely she would have announced it? And if the man had refused her, she wouldn't appear nearly so serene. There was a third option, of course—the man may have asked for time to think it over.

No, that couldn't be it. She had the look of a woman who had settled matters. Perhaps she had been dealing with another matter altogether.

This was ridiculous. The only way he was going to get peace of mind was to come right out and ask her. Maybe tonight, when they were doing the supper dishes—

“Hello, Riley.”

Riley froze. He knew that voice, would know it anywhere, anytime.

Guy had found them.