Cinderfella (33 page)

Charmaine watched her parents dance, for a moment, smiling at the heartening sight. Her father, rough and tumble cowboy at heart that he was, loved nothing more than having a house full of family. He openly delighted in his children and his grandchildren. Sundays were a circus in the Haley house, and through the commotion, the laughter and the tears and the occasional crisis, Stuart Haley grinned from ear to ear.

The entire town was here, dancers mingling with the large family. Eula and Winston, who'd wisely left their five children at home; Delia and her husband of three years; the new Mayor; Reverend Howell, who'd performed that memorable marriage ceremony five years ago — everyone.

Nathan and Oswald had made the trip this year, and Oswald was presently surrounded by an assembly of giggling young girls who found the well-known actor fascinating. The stage agreed with Oswald more than anyone had ever expected. He was successful and much sought after — and loved it.

Nathan was on top again, with Oswald as his leading man. Five years of success hadn't changed him a bit. Pumpkin was getting on in years, though, and when Nathan left Salley Creek this time he would be leaving the mare on the Coleman farm.

Verna wasn't here, thank heavens. She was comfortably settled in San Francisco with the husband she'd taken four months after leaving Salley Creek. Elmo and Ruth had made the trip, though. They'd been married two years now, had one little boy who was a chubby replica of his father, and Elmo had become quite successful as a geologist. As a matter of fact, his trip to Kansas had nothing to do with the masked ball or the anniversary.

Charmaine glanced around but didn't see them anywhere. “Where are Elmo and Ruth?” she asked as the music stopped. “They said they'd be here.”

Ash was unconcerned. “You know Elmo. Always late, and these days he's much more interested in rocks than in people.”

“Except for Ruth and Bink.”

His grin was bright. “Except for Ruth and Bink. Who names a kid Bink, anyway?”

Before she could chastise him for being rude, little Stu was tugging on his pants leg. “Ash,” he said in his most grown-up voice. “I don't want to go upstairs with the children. I want to stay up all night like my sisters.”

Ash explained in a very patient voice how dull the party would be once the children left, and how much fun they'd have at their own little party upstairs, and without another word of protest Stu left with the other little ones.

Everyone but Charmaine thought it was odd that Stu listened to Ash better than he did anyone else. Ash could reason with him when no one else could, and the child ran to him for comfort and hugs and occasionally to dry his tears on a sleeve. Of course, Ash was more than Stu's brother-in-law. He was also his godfather.

Charmaine was thankful for so much in her life. Ash and their children, the farm that continued to do well, having her family close by . . . even though her father and Ash still butted heads on occasion. Stuart Haley insisted every year on giving Ash cattle, and every year Ash refused. Just to irritate his father-in-law, she'd decided.

She gave regular lectures at the schoolhouse, usually the second Tuesday evening of every month, and printed corresponding manuals to distribute. There were those who were dismayed, of course, but she looked at those narrow-minded people as challenges to be met and conquered. She was almost always successful.

Her seminars on family planning were the most scandalous, and the most well attended.

When the music began again, a waltz, Ash gave her his full attention. There were no children to watch out for, no little hands tugging at their clothing.

“When it gets too warm for you,” he said softly, “well take a stroll out to the gazebo and rest a while.”

Goodness, they never got a moment's rest in the gazebo, but this had become a yearly ritual.

“I don't know,” she whispered. “How do I know you won't attempt to dally with me once we're alone?”

Oh, she loved that smile, so bright it grabbed her heart and wouldn't let go. “You can be assured I will,” he promised.

“Ash! Dammit Ash, where are you?”

Ash closed his eyes and his smile faded. Elmo's distraught cry came from the main entrance, and all heads turned in that direction. The music came to a gradual halt.

Elmo was wide eyed and red faced and . . . and absolutely filthy. He was covered in black smears from his head to his boots. In fact, he was tracking some of the mess onto the carpet.

The crowd gave him a wide berth as he spotted Ash and hurried across the room. A few women squealed when he came too close to their expensive gowns.

“What happened to you?” Ash placed his hands on his hips and glared down at his stepbrother.

“I found it, I knew it was there and I was right!” Elmo's grin was white in contrast to a near-black face.

“You found what?” Ash asked patiently.

“Oil, in that ridge I've been drilling on all week.” Elmo was so excited he was near breathless. “Oil.” He waited for a reaction and was disappointed. “Ash,” he said with a despairing moan. “You're rich!”

Ash stared at his stepbrother for a moment as the news sunk in. “Well, that's nice,” he said calmly. “Now, you go clean up and bring Ruth to the party and we'll celebrate.”

Elmo left, the crowd murmured and stared, and the orchestra didn't begin to play until Ash turned to them with a wave of his hand and a demand for another waltz.

Charmaine and Ash began to dance first, and eventually the rest of the crowd joined in.

“We'll have a hell of a time slipping away now,” Ash whispered. “Everybody's watching.” He leaned close, so that his mouth was near her ear. “We'll have to distract them, somehow.”

“Didn't you hear what Elmo said?” she asked as he pulled slightly away. “You're rich.”

He stopped dancing, in the middle of the waltz, in the middle of the room. The dance went on, brightly lit and brightly clothed friends and relatives circling around them in time to the music. Ash ignored them all, placing a hand beneath her chin and lifting her face to his for a brief and tender kiss.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

And they lived, for the most part, happily ever after.