Texas Cinderella (20 page)

“A little quieter than usual, but otherwise okay. She and Noah are playing with their gifts—Guy's way of trying to win their affection.”

“What did he give Noah?”

“A whole bag of marbles, including a few aggies and a shooter.” Riley grimaced. “Noah's thrilled with his present.”

“Any boy would be.” She remembered how much her brothers prized their marbles, all the more because they didn't have many.

“And Pru is busy introducing her new doll to Bitsy. Seeing how delighted they are made me realize I haven't been much for gift giving since they've been in my care. I'm not even sure when their birthdays are.” Riley gave Cassie a troubled look. “Little kids should get to celebrate their birthdays—especially kids who don't have much else to celebrate.”

She placed her hand on his arm. “You've given them so much more than mere things. You've given them your love, and have put them first over your own needs, and have done everything in your power to keep them safe. Believe me, those things are much more important than a doll and a bag of marbles.”

He placed his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks.”

With a nod, she turned and headed down the hall to check on the children, wanting to reassure herself that Pru was okay.

She smiled when she saw them playing with their gifts, just as Riley had said. Cassie sat on the edge of Pru's bed. “Have you given your new doll a name yet?”

Pru nodded. “Cindy.”

“That's a pretty name.”

“I named her after Cinderella, because she was mostly alone and looking for someone to love her. And now she's a princess.”

“I see. That is quite fitting.” Apparently both children had been taken with the Cinderella story. Mrs. Flanagan must have done an extraordinary job reading it to them.

Pru looked at her other doll. “I'm worried about Bitsy. She doesn't have beautiful clothes like Cindy and she's not a princess. Do you think that will make her sad?”

“Not if you continue to love her. That's the greatest thing for any doll, to be loved by the little girl who owns her.”

Pru hugged the rag doll tightly against her chest. “I do love her a whole bunch.”

Cassie had an idea. “Wait here just a minute. I'll be right back.”

She went to her room, opened the top drawer of the dresser and lifted out a small, somewhat battered cardboard box nestled there. Opening it, she stared at the contents. Inside was a bracelet, a delicate gold chain barely long enough to fit around her wrist, with a single red stone. Her mother had given it to her on her thirteenth birthday and it was the only piece of jewelry she owned.

Cassie stared at it a moment, then closed her fist around it and headed out of the room.

She sat down next to Pru. “I believe that even though Cindy is a princess, Bitsy is secretly a queen. She just doesn't make a lot of fuss about it because she's a very practical queen who likes to wear sensible clothes that she can play in and not have to worry about getting dirty.”

Pru cocked her head, studying her doll thoughtfully. “She is?”

“Yes indeed. One can always tell a queen by her good character and her generous spirit.” Cassie opened her hand to show the bracelet. “But occasionally she still wants to feel like a queen, so when she does, she puts on her crown, like so.” Cassie placed the bracelet on Bitsy's head, carefully displaying the stone in the center of the doll's forehead. Just as she'd hoped, it fit nicely.

Pru's eyes widened. “She
does
look like a queen now.” Then the girl turned to Cassie. “And being a queen is better than being a princess, isn't it?”

“Well, a queen is usually older and wiser than a princess.”

Pru nodded, obviously satisfied with that answer.

“Of course, we both know Bitsy won't want to wear her crown all the time. She's much too practical for that. So you must keep it safe for her when she's not wearing it.” Cassie lifted the bracelet and undid the clasp. “And perhaps Bitsy will allow you to wear it on your arm sometimes, as a bracelet.” She placed it on the girl's wrist and fastened it there. “And when you wear it you must promise to think of me and how very much I love you.” She pulled Noah over and embraced them both in a tight hug. “How much I love both of you.”

How would she bear watching these precious children walk out of her life when the time came for them to go?

Chapter Twenty-Four

R
iley stood quietly in the doorway to the children's room. He'd arrived in time to observe that entire exchange with the bracelet. He didn't know anything about the gold chain, but would be willing to put River on the line to bet it had a very special meaning to Cassie.

And she'd just handed it over to his niece and her doll as if it wasn't difficult at all to part with.

He'd never met another woman—another person—who was as selfless and courageous as Cassie Lynn Vickers, someone who could touch his heart with a word or gesture, someone he could love for the rest of his days.

Riley abruptly turned and walked away. He headed for the backyard, feeling the need to get out in the fresh air, to do something physical. He retrieved an ax from the tool shed and proceeded to make kindling from one of the chunks of firewood stacked near the house.

Love her—how could he? He cared for her, of course. Who wouldn't—she was sweet, generous, practical, and she'd been exceptionally kind to him and his charges.

But true love, the man-and-wife kind, that wasn't for him. Besides, he'd known her for only a little over a week and most of that time had been under extraordinary circumstances.

He wasn't the settling down kind of man, and that's what she needed, what she deserved. Riley reached for another piece of wood and began attacking it with the same fervor.

And even if he
was
in love, he'd made his plans with Mr. Humphries earlier. The wheels were in motion and soon he and the kids would be leaving here. And there was a chance they wouldn't be back. Then again, even if they did come back, Cassie would likely be married to one of the names on that confounded list of hers. In fact, she could be engaged to one of them already.

He swung the ax with a force that jarred his arm all the way to the shoulder when it hit.

“What are you doing?”

He looked up to see Cassie standing on the porch, staring at him with a frown on her face.

He wiped his brow with his sleeve. “Just chopping a bit of wood. Sorry if the noise bothered you.”

“It's not the noise. Members of this household don't do that sort of unnecessary labor on the Sabbath.”

Riley winced. “I'm sorry. I guess I forgot it was Sunday. I just felt the need for some fresh air and physical activity.”

Her expression turned sympathetic. “I know having your stepbrother around is trying, but don't let it get to you this way.”

Riley was guiltily relieved that she had misread the situation. “Hard not to.”

“I know. But you'll figure out something, I have confidence in you.”

Riley slammed the ax into the chopping block, then joined her on the porch. “Have a seat,” he said, waving to the steps. “I want to talk to you.”

Her expression grew apprehensive, but she nodded and did as he asked. Once she'd seated herself and arranged her skirts, Riley joined her, careful to leave what space he could between them on the narrow stairs.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

“That something you were confident I'd figure out, I think I have.” At least he sincerely hoped so.

“You're planning to leave, aren't you?”

He hated to see the sadness in her expression, the brave resignation. But she deserved to hear this, to know what was coming. “I am. Noah is not completely well, I know, but he's no longer contagious and he's getting better every day. Before long Guy will demand to see him, too, and then there will be nothing to stop him from laying claim to them.”

“He said he would take it slow, would give them time to get used to him. If your detective is close to—”

“I've learned to never trust Guy's promises. And even so, there is no guarantee Claypool will get the answers this week or next week or the week after. And I can't afford to take the chance that things will just magically all work out. The stakes are much too high.”

“I understand.” Cassie's tone said she wished she didn't. “But how are you going to get out of town? We already know he's keeping an eye on the depot when trains pull in and out. It'll be hard to slip by him.”

“We're not leaving by train. I took Mr. Humphries into my confidence and he's agreed to help.”

“So you're leaving by wagon.”

“Yes. Mr. Humphries is going to meet me at the edge of town with a horse and buggy just before dawn on Tuesday morning.”

“So soon!” She grimaced. “Sorry, of course you must get away as quickly as you can.”

“I'd actually hoped to leave tomorrow, but he'd already promised the buggy to someone else and he didn't have another wagon to spare.” Riley just hoped the delay didn't cost him. There was an itch in him, an instinct, that said they should leave as soon as possible.

“What do you need me to do?”

She uttered no more protests, just looked for ways to help. Always practical, even if it hurt her to the quick.

“I need you to go about your day as usual, as if nothing has changed,” he answered. “The longer we can keep Guy thinking me and the kids are still here, the better.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I'm not asking you to lie to anyone, mind you, just don't make it obvious we're gone.”

“Of course. The three of you haven't been out in public much, so your absence shouldn't be noted by anyone. But won't you need help getting the children to where the carriage will be parked?”

He shook his head. “We don't have far to go—he's meeting me on the western edge of town. I can carry Noah if need be and Pru's got most of her strength back, so she can walk.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But that means we won't be able to take many of our things with us.”

Cassie waved a hand dismissively. “We'll keep your luggage for you, of course. When you think it safe, you can let us know where you are and we'll send it to you.”

“There's more than luggage.” Riley clenched his jaw. “I won't be able to take River with me, either.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “Oh, Riley, no.”

Her dismay, and the touch of her hand, were oddly soothing. “It can't be helped. The town Mr. Humphries is directing us to, Burnt Pine, is off the railroad line, which is what I wanted. It'll make it that much harder for Guy to track us.”

“But doesn't that mean you'll be more or less trapped there without a quick exit?”

“No, because we won't be staying. About two miles outside of Burnt Pine is a stagecoach relay station. Mr. Humphries knows the man who runs it. It's where I'll leave the buggy for someone to pick up and return to him, and it's where the kids and I will begin the next leg of our journey. We'll head out on the first stage that passes through and then look for a crossroads and take a roundabout path to just about anywhere. That should make it harder for Guy to locate us. Until we're ready to be found.”

“Which is why you can't take River.”

She was quick. “There's no way to take him with me if we're traveling by stage. I have no guarantee I'd be allowed to tie him behind the vehicle, and even if I could, such travel would be very difficult for him.”

“I give you my word I'll take real good care of him. I'll treat him as if he were my very own. And he'll be waiting right here for you when you return.”

But would
she
be waiting, as well?

* * *

Cassie felt a stab of pride. Riley was putting his beloved horse into her keeping—not just for a day or a week, but for however long it took him to work this all out and return. He must really trust her.

But his next words took some of the starch out of her sheets.

“I already spoke to Mr. Humphries about this and gave him some money I'd put aside. It's enough to pay for River's stabling and feed for about two months. ”

So she'd misunderstood—he wasn't putting River into her keeping. “Oh, I see. You don't need—”

“I told him that in my absence he is to consider you River's owner. If any issues at all come up concerning River, he is to come to you about them.” Riley took her hand. “Mr. Humphries will have the responsibility of the day to day boarding and feeding of my horse, but I am entrusting you with his ultimate care. But only if you are willing to accept such a burden.”

She nodded. “Gladly.” This meant he would have to come back. He would never abandon River altogether.

“Any word from your Pinkerton detective yet?”

“No.”

Cassie heard the world of frustration Riley managed to infuse into that one word. It was easy to recognize, because it mirrored exactly what she herself was feeling.

She decided to change the subject. “When will you tell the children?”

“Not until the last minute. I don't want them fretting about this any sooner than need be.”

She nodded, hoping she didn't give it all away with her longing looks.

“As for Mrs. Flanagan,” he continued, “I thought we'd wait until after her outing with Guy tomorrow afternoon. There's no need to burden her with keeping this secret if we don't need to.”

Cassie nodded, pleased by the way he'd said
we
, as if they were in this together.

Which they absolutely were.

Until they left her behind.

Chapter Twenty-Five

M
onday morning Cassie woke with a sick feeling in her heart. It was her last day with Riley and the children—at least the last day for some time to come.

Mrs. Flanagan received a note from Guy midmorning apologizing for the fact that he would have to cancel their afternoon outing—he was feeling under the weather.

The widow cackled as she read it. “Under the weather—hah! More likely I plum wore him out with our trek through the graveyard yesterday. I'll have to think of something extra special for tomorrow, if he dares show up.”

With that distraction out of the way, Riley and Cassie sat down with Mrs. Flanagan and told her of the getaway plans.

She nodded when he mentioned Mr. Humphries would be helping them. “Fred Humphries is a good man.”

She turned to Cassie. “You need to bake a pie to deliver to Fred Humphries this afternoon. You'll carry it to him in that extra large hamper we have. Along with it I want you to pull together whatever food you can find that Riley and the kids can eat on the road. Bread, fruit, cheese, pickles—you know what to look for. Riley, you can also gather up any of the smaller items you want to take with you that will fit in the hamper, too.”

Before Cassie could ask, the widow explained. “Fred can put all of this in the buggy tonight, so it'll be there for you tomorrow. That'll be less you have to carry when you leave here on foot.”

Cassie stood and gave the woman a hug. “You are amazing. I don't know why I didn't think of all that myself.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, Cassie had the kitchen all to herself.

Mrs. Flanagan was in the parlor reading her Bible. She'd mumbled something about needing some extra fortifying this afternoon.

Pru was on the back porch with Dapple and her dolls, drawing chalk pictures of castles and rainbows. She was also wearing the bracelet. She said it made her feel like a princess, too.

Riley was with Noah in the kids' room. Last time she'd checked on them, Noah was asking him questions about how kites were able to fly.

Oh, but she was going to miss this so much. The people and the feeling of family and having these children who looked up to her. But Cassie couldn't let herself think about that. Not today, when they were all still here. Tomorrow would be soon enough for the mourning.

She'd decided to go all out for supper tonight, to make it really memorable. She would prepare sweet corn pudding, which seemed to be Pru's favorite, and thick slices of ham, which Noah had told her he liked best. And to add to that, she had smothered turnip greens with bacon and cornbread. For dessert she'd decided to bake an apple, cinnamon and raisin cobbler.

The pie Mrs. Flanagan had instructed her to bake for Mr. Humphries was on the counter, waiting for her to deliver it. Beside it was an extra one she'd made, and on impulse she decided to slice it and offer everyone an afternoon treat.

She served the first piece to Pru, carrying it out to the porch to let her eat it picnic style. After taking a moment to praise the child's drawings, she stepped back and sliced two more pieces. Loading them on a tray to deliver to Riley and Noah, she smiled as she heard Pru explain to Dapple and the two dolls just why she had drawn four towers on her castle.

As Cassie headed down the hall, she reflected on how Pru was really starting to come out of her shell, becoming more an active ten-year-old girl than a subdued shadow.

When she got to the kids' room, she eased the door open with her hip. “Hello, you two. Anyone interested in a slice of cherry pie?”

Noah's head shot up and he gave her a wide, gap-toothed grin. “I sure am.”

Riley's smile was warmer, more intimate. “Me, too.” He stood to take the tray from her.

“What are you two up to in here?”

“Uncle Riley is teaching me how to tie different kinds of knots. Want to see?”

“Well, of course I do.” She sat on Pru's bed across from them. “Show me.”

For the next ten minutes or so, Noah tried, and mostly succeeded, in showing her his newly acquired skill, carefully explaining the various uses for each type of knot.

Finally, Cassie stood. “That's quite impressive, but I need to get back to the kitchen and check on supper.” She turned to Riley. “I thought I'd deliver that pie to Mr. Humphries in about an hour, if you'd like to accompany me.”

He nodded and she made her exit to the sound of Noah begging his uncle to please show him just one more.

She hadn't quite made it to the kitchen when she heard a knock at the front door.

Who could that be? The only visitors they ever received were Reverend Harper and Doc Pratt, and both of those gentlemen normally made their visits in the mornings.

Had Guy decided to take Mrs. Flanagan on an outing, after all? She glanced at the hall clock. It was nearly three o'clock—a bit late for that.

She bustled forward and to her surprise saw Betty Pratt from next door.

Cassie opened the door wider and smiled as she waved her in. “Mrs. Pratt, what a pleasant surprise. If you'll come on in you'll find Mrs. Flanagan in the parlor.”

But the woman didn't move and Cassie realized she looked a bit agitated and uncomfortable. “I'm sorry, is something the matter?”

“I'm not sure. At least I hope not. Oh dear, I hope you won't think I'm poking my nose in where it doesn't belong.”

“I would never think that. Now tell me, what's the matter?” What was bothering the woman? Cassie had never seen her so agitated before.

“It's just that I was coming home from the mercantile a little while ago and I saw him with her, and the little girl looked so uncomfortable.” Mrs. Pratt was wringing her hands now. “I mean, I know Mr. Simpson is her father and he seems like a nice man, and all children can be a bit fractious with their parents at times, but something just seemed a bit odd about the way they were acting that I just thought I'd stop by and make sure everything was all right.”

Cassie had felt the blood drain from her face about halfway through the woman's convoluted explanation. “Are you telling me Guy Simpson has Pru?”

The woman had barely gotten the word
yes
out of her mouth before Cassie was flying through the house, yelling for Riley. She found herself on the back porch without remembering how she got there, and leaned heavily against the doorjamb as she took in the scene—a half-eaten piece of pie being examined by the cat, two abandoned dolls and a smudged drawing of a once pristine castle.

A great shuddering sob tore from her throat and then she felt strong arms go around her, pulling her to him.

“What is it?” he asked gently. “What's happened to upset you?”

“It's Pru,” Cassie choked out. “Guy has her.”

At that moment, as she watched the horror spread across Riley's features, they heard the sound of a whistle, signaling the train's departure from the Turnabout depot.