Texas Cinderella

He nodded. “River goes everywhere I do.” He waved toward the livery end of the corral, where Mr. Humphries was leading what was presumably Mr. Walker’s horse through the gate. “That’s him now.”

She heard the pride in his voice and turned to study the animal more closely. His coat was silvery-gray with a few darker flecks on his flank and a charcoal colored mane and tail. The animal appeared spirited and well cared for.

“He looks to be a fine horse.”

Mr. Walker’s smile had a touch of affection in it. “He is that.” Then he turned serious again. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Vickers, but if you’ll excuse us, I need to get us checked in at the hotel.”

“Of course.” As he moved away, she called out to them. “Mr. Walker?”

He paused and turned back, his expression one of polite inquiry. “Ma’am?”

She felt foolish for her impulsive act. “I just wanted to say if you have questions about any of the local establishments, or need directions of any sort, I’d be glad to help you.”

“That’s very kind of you, but not necessary at the moment.”

They resumed their exit and this time she let them. But she overheard another snippet of their conversation before they moved out of hearing range.

“Are you really going to work here, Uncle Riley?” Noah asked.

His uncle nodded. “I am. But just for a few hours each day.”

Were the Walkers going to settle here then? She certainly hoped so. It would give her a chance to see that sweet little Noah again.

And his uncle.

She watched them until they disappeared around the corner of the livery. Then she dusted the back of her skirt with her hands and turned to the horses. “Well, now, wasn’t that an interesting little encounter? I must say, I found Mr. Walker and his charges to be quite fascinating.” She stroked Scarlett’s muzzle again. Given that Cassie Lynn was looking for a husband, she couldn’t help but think that Mr. Walker would be a not unpleasant choice.

Ridiculous, of course, since she didn’t really know him. Then again, she didn’t know any of the local gents very well, either. It certainly couldn’t hurt to put the newcomer on her list while she tried to learn more about him. For instance, learning if he was even planning to settle down in Turnabout or was just passing through.

She grinned at her own silliness. Then the reminder of just why she was making her husband candidate list came flooding back, and she no longer had any desire to smile.

It was time to stop her foolish daydreaming and get down to business. Cassie Lynn picked up her shopping basket and walked away from the corral.

Finding a husband wouldn’t be easy, but it wasn’t altogether impossible.

Please, God, if this plan be in Your will, prepare the man You have in mind for me so that he is open to my proposal.

Feeling somewhat better now that she had a direction, Cassie Lynn straightened and moved forward with a lighter step.

But there was one big problem with her plan. She didn’t know the men in town well enough to evaluate them against her requirements. Which meant she needed an advisor, someone who could help her make those comparisons and who would perhaps think of candidates she might not be aware of. There were only a few people she felt comfortable turning to for that kind of assistance.

There was Janell Chandler, the former schoolteacher who had eventually won the hand of Hank Chandler.

Then there was Daisy Fulton, the restaurant owner Cassie Lynn had worked for for six months.

And of course there was her current employer, Mrs. Flanagan. Daisy and Janell were closer to her own age, and both had moved to Turnabout from elsewhere, so they would know something of her situation. On the other hand, Mrs. Flanagan had grown up here and knew just about everything there was to know about her fellow townsfolk.

But did she really want her employer involved in her dilemma that way?

Better to turn her thoughts to what she would prepare for Mrs. Flanagan’s evening meal and let the other matter simmer a bit.

A simple vegetable soup, perhaps, or a potpie could be prepared with very little thought and would leave her mind free to ponder her situation...

What would Mr. Walker and his two charges be doing for supper tonight? Maybe she could convince Mrs. Flanagan to invite the Walker family to dine with them one night soon. Having company to ease the monotony of the widow’s days would be good for her, whether she would be willing to admit it or not.

And it would, after all, be the neighborly thing to do.

* * *

Riley hurried Pru and Noah along. There were several things he still had to do this afternoon, and the sooner he settled the children at the hotel the better.

The most pressing matter was to get a telegraph off to Mr. Claypool. He always made a point of letting the Pinkerton detective know where to reach him when he arrived in a new town.

Then he wanted to take River for a run. The horse had been cooped up in that train car for much too long and would be ready for some exercise. And truth to tell, Riley was, too. He missed being on horseback—there hadn’t been nearly enough opportunity for him to turn loose and ride lately.

His mind drifted back to Miss Vickers. She was an interesting lady. At first glance he’d thought her a tomboyish adolescent. The way she’d stood so casually at the corral fence, elbows on the top rail, laughing with Noah—no wonder he’d gotten the wrong idea. And her slight build had only reinforced that impression.

Rushing to Noah’s aid with such disregard for her own well-being or dignity as she had, and then taking her fall with a touch of humor rather than dismay—there weren’t many grown ladies who would have done such a thing.

It was only when he’d stooped down to check on her that he’d realized his mistake. That engagingly rueful smile had most definitely belonged to a woman, not a child.

It was when their gazes first met, though, that he’d found himself thrown off balance. He’d never encountered quite that combination of innocence and humor before, especially mixed as it was with an air of maturity and resolve.

It was such a curious mix he wondered if he’d really seen all that in one quick glance. Still, the impression had remained with him. Of course, her cheery smile, and the dimple that kept appearing near the left corner of her lip, had contributed to the unexpected air that seemed to surround her. It bestowed on her a kind of unconventional attractiveness, even when she was sitting in the dust with a chagrinned look on her face. He hadn’t been so taken by a woman in quite some time. For just a heartbeat he’d been tempted to linger, to get to know her better.

And that had brought him up short. Because he couldn’t afford to let himself be diverted by such fetching distractions now, no matter how intriguing. Especially when there was no chance it could go anywhere. In another few days he and the kids would be moving on again.

“Uncle Riley?”

Noah’s words brought his thoughts back to the present. “Yes?”

“That Miss Vickers lady seems nice, don’t you think?”

It appeared he and Noah were thinking along similar lines. “I suppose.” Actually, “nice” seemed inadequate. Not everyone would have gone to such lengths to come to the aid of a stranger and then brushed off his thanks so modestly.

“And there are probably lots of other nice folks in this town, too, don’t you think?” Noah’s tone had taken on a cajoling quality.

“Could be.” Riley had an idea where this was headed and tried to cut it off. “But there are nice people everywhere.” He gave his nephew a little nudge. “Besides, who wouldn’t be nice to a great kid like you?”

Noah grinned up at him, then pressed on. “Anyway, since there are such nice folks here, don’t you think it would be okay for us to stay longer than a few days?”

There it was. “We’ve talked about this before. We don’t stay very long in small towns. Big towns are better for long stays.” Places where it was easier to disappear and not stand out so starkly. The only reason he’d stopped here in the first place was because the kids, especially Pru, had seemed unusually restless. It would do them good to get out and move around and get some fresh air and sunshine. “Besides, I have to be in Tyler for a meeting by Wednesday morning.”

Riley could tell Noah wasn’t satisfied with his answer. “I promise I’ll find us a nice big town to spend some time in real soon. Maybe you two could even go to school for a while.” He gave his niece’s shoulder a nudge. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Pru?”

The girl nodded. “I miss going to school.”

“That’s settled then. By the time school starts next month, we’ll be someplace where we can stay put for a while.” Assuming they could keep their relentless pursuer off their trail.

To Riley’s relief, they’d reached the hotel by this time and it ended the need for further conversation.

This whole business of moving from town to town, never staying in one place for long, was taking its toll on all of them. If only there was some other way. But he couldn’t afford the luxury of letting them set down permanent roots anywhere.

The well-being of the children depended on his keeping them several steps ahead of Guy.

His stepbrother.

The kids’ father.

Chapter Three

Cassie Lynn pushed open the door to Mrs. Flanagan’s home, her mood considerably different from the cheery one she’d had when she’d left here just one short hour ago. So much had happened in such a short period of time.

Dapple sat just inside the door, tail swishing impatiently. Seeming to sense her mood, the normally imperious tortoiseshell cat stropped against Cassie Lynn’s legs with a sympathetic purr.

She bent down and stroked the animal’s back. “Thanks, Dapple. You can be really sweet sometimes.”

That was apparently too much for the feline. He gave Cassie Lynn a baleful look, then turned and stalked down the hall, the very picture of affronted dignity.

With a smile, Cassie Lynn headed for the kitchen. “I’m back,” she called out as she set her shopping basket on the kitchen table. “Sorry I took so long.”

Mrs. Flanagan wheeled her chair into the kitchen. “Rather than apologizing,” the widow said acerbically, “tell me what that father of yours wanted.”

Cassie Lynn should have realized her employer had known he was there. How much should she say? “He wanted to give me some news about Verne and Dinah.”

Mrs. Flanagan raised a brow. “They’re expecting a new young’un, are they?”

“No, at least not that I know of.” She started putting away the items she’d purchased at the mercantile. “But they are moving out and planning to set up their own place.”

There was a moment of silence, but even with her back turned, Cassie Lynn could feel the keen stare the widow had focused on her.

“I’ve known Alvin Vickers most of his life,” Mrs. Flanagan finally said, “so I know he didn’t come all the way into town just to deliver news like that. He wants you to move back to his place and take care of him, doesn’t he?”

Cassie Lynn reluctantly glanced back over her shoulder and nodded.

“You didn’t agree to go, did you?”

“Not exactly.”

The widow’s eyes narrowed. “What does not exactly mean?”

Rather than give a direct answer, she hedged. “He was very insistent.”

“You mean he tried to roll right over your objections!”

Cassie Lynn gave her a tight smile that was part grimace. “I appreciate you’re concerned about me, but—”

“Ha! Who said I was concerned about you?”

When she’d first come to work here, Cassie Lynn had been taken aback by Mrs. Flanagan’s vinegary tongue, but it hadn’t taken her long to see behind the woman’s facade to the soft heart beneath. So she didn’t take offense at the words.

The woman settled back in her chair with a determined frown. “I’ve got a stake in that bakery business you’re trying to start, remember? And you can’t run it from that back-of-beyond farm.”

Cassie Lynn felt compelled to defend her father. “He’s my pa. I owe him—”

Mrs. Flanagan actually wagged a finger at her. “Cassie Lynn Vickers, you’re twenty-two years old, a grown woman by anyone’s reckoning. You need to grow some backbone and make that father of yours listen to you.”

Cassie Lynn grimaced, then turned away. Mrs. Flanagan might not say that if she knew the whole story. “At any rate, I told him I wasn’t leaving here as long as you needed my help.”

“Well, that’s something.” The widow gave a decisive snort. “And I have a feeling that I may need your help for much longer than we first expected.”

Startled, Cassie Lynn shot her a quick glance. Then, making up her mind, she decided to share her plan. “I do have an idea about how I might get around this.”

Mrs. Flanagan straightened. “Well, bless my soul, you do have some gumption, after all.” She leaned back with a satisfied nod. “Let’s hear it.”

Cassie Lynn took a deep breath. “It appears the only excuse my father will accept is if I was spoken for. So that’s what I intend to do—find a man to marry.”

The widow’s brow went up. “Just like that, you’re going to go out and find yourself a suitor?”

“I didn’t say it would be easy.” Cassie Lynn tried to keep the defensiveness from her tone. “And it’s not as if I expect anything romantic.” She didn’t have any notions of finding a fairy-tale prince who would look at her, fall instantly in love and whisk her away.

After all, she’d already contemplated a businesslike marriage with Mr. Chandler when she’d first come to town. So she’d already come to terms with that kind of arrangement.

But Mrs. Flanagan was frowning at her. “You’re much too young to be giving up on love. Don’t you want at least a touch of romance in your life?”

“Romance is no guarantee of happiness. And even if that was something I wanted, in this case there’s no time for such schoolgirl notions. So a more practical approach is called for.”

“I see.” Mrs. Flanagan crossed her arms, clearly not in agreement with Cassie Lynn’s argument, but willing to move on. “Is there a particular bachelor you’ve set your sights on?”

“I’ve been pondering on that and I have a couple of ideas. The main thing, though, is I’ve decided what requirements the gents need to meet.” She’d given that a lot of thought on her walk home.

“And those are?”

“Well, for one, since I want to continue pursuing my goal of opening a bakery, the candidate will need to be okay with having a wife who does more than just keep his house. And it would also require that he live here in town so I can be close to my customers, for delivery purposes.”

“Surely you also want to consider his character.”

“Of course. He should be honest, kind and God-fearing.” She didn’t expect affection—after all, this would be a businesslike arrangement—but she did hope for mutual respect.

“And his appearance?”

Cassie Lynn shrugged. “That’s of less importance. Though naturally, I wouldn’t mind if he’s pleasant to look at.” Like Mr. Walker, for example.

She shook off that thought and returned to the discussion at hand. “But none of that matters unless I can find someone who’s also open to my proposal.”

“And you’ve thought of someone who meets this list of qualifications?”

“Two. But I don’t really know the men here very well, so I was hoping that perhaps you could give me some suggestions.”

“Humph! I’ve always thought of matchmakers as busybodies, so I never aspired to become one.”

“Oh, I don’t want a matchmaker—I intend to make up my own mind on who I marry. I’d just like to have the benefit of advice from someone who knows the townsfolk better than I do. And who has experienced what a marriage involves.”

“Well, then, much as I’m not sure I approve of this plan of yours, I don’t suppose I can just let you go through it without guidance of some sort.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Flanagan. I can’t tell you what a relief that is.”

“Now don’t go getting all emotional on me. I said I’d help and I will. Tell me who these two gents are that you’re considering.”

“The first name that occurred to me was Morris Hilburn.”

“The butcher?”

Cassie Lynn nodded. “From what I can tell, he meets most of my criteria. Of course, I won’t know how he feels about having a wife who runs a bakery until I talk to him.”

“Morris Hilburn is a God-fearing man with a good heart, all right. But he is not the smartest of men and he’s not much of a talker.”

“Book learning and good conversation are not requirements.”

“Think about that before you rule them out. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with a man whose idea of conversation is single syllable responses?”

Cassie Lynn paused. Then she remembered the fate her father had in mind for her. “There are worse things.” She moved on before her employer could comment. “The other gentleman I thought of was Mr. Gilbert Drummond.”

“The undertaker? Well, I suppose he might be someone to look at. Then again, he strikes me as being a bit finicky.”

“There are worse qualities one could find in a man. Besides, a woman in my position doesn’t have the luxury of being choosy.” More’s the pity. “But I’m open to other suggestions if you have any.”

“I’ll need to ponder on this awhile.”

“Unfortunately, my time is short.” She hesitated a heartbeat, then spoke up again, keeping her voice oh-so-casual. “There’s actually a third candidate I’m considering.”

“And who might that be?”

“I met a newcomer to town while I was at the livery. He just arrived on today’s train.”

“A newcomer? And you’re just now telling me about this? You know good and well part of the reason I hired you is to have someone to bring me the latest bits of news.”

Cassie Lynn laughed. “And here I thought it was for my cooking.”

“Don’t be impertinent. I want to hear everything. How did you meet him? Is he a young man or more mature? Is he handsome? Is he traveling alone.” She waved impatiently. “Come on, girl, answer me.”

She decided to respond to the last question first. “He’s traveling with two children, a niece and nephew. I met the little boy first. Noah is about seven and such an endearing child—intelligent, curious, outgoing. The little girl, Pru, seems shy and quiet.” Cassie Lynn searched her memory for all the little descriptive details, relating these tidbits as vividly as she could, knowing Mrs. Flanagan loved getting these glimpses of the outside world she was missing.

After a few minutes of that, however, her employer interrupted her. “Enough of the kids,” she said with a grumpy frown. “Tell me about the uncle.”

Cassie Lynn paused a moment to pull up Mr. Walker’s image in her mind. “He has hair the color of coffee with a dash of cream stirred in, and his eyes are a piercing green.” A glorious shamrock-green that she could still picture quite vividly. “He’s lean but muscular, if you know what I mean, like he’s used to doing hard work.”

“And his age?”

“I didn’t ask.”

Mrs. Flanagan made a disapproving noise. “Don’t be coy with me, Cassie Lynn. Take a guess.”

She hid her grin. “I suppose I’d put him around twenty-four or twenty-five.” Though there was something about the look in his eyes that spoke of experience beyond his years.

“How did you come to meet him?”

Cassie Lynn explained the circumstances as she crossed the room to retrieve an apron that hung on a peg near the stove.

“I can see the man has obviously impressed you.”

Cassie Lynn stopped midstep and glanced over at her employer.

“Don’t look so surprised, girl, I’m no simpleton. If he hadn’t caught your eye, you wouldn’t have put him on your list.” Then she leaned back. “So what was it about him that made you decide after only ten minutes in his company that he might be the husband you’re looking for?”

“I only said he might be worth considering.” Then, under Mrs. Flanagan’s steady gaze, she shrugged. “I suppose it was the fact that he had two young children in his care—it made me think he might be a man in need of a woman’s help. And it was also the way he interacted with them. He obviously cares about them.”

It made her think about her relationship with her own father. He’d never been very affectionate, but when she’d been Pru’s age she felt he’d had a little more time for her.

“I agree with you there,” Mrs. Flanagan said. “A single man in charge of two young’uns sounds like a gentleman in need of a wife if there ever was one.” Dapple had wandered into the kitchen and, with a graceful motion, leaped into Mrs. Flanagan’s lap. The woman stroked the cat’s back, her eyes remaining fixed on Cassie Lynn. “So tell me about these newcomers. Who’d they come here to visit?”

“According to Noah, they don’t know anyone in Turnabout.”

“Humph. That’s strange. Not many folks come to Turnabout unless they have some purpose.”

“I’m sure they have a purpose, it’s just not to visit someone they know.” Cassie Lynn hadn’t given the reason for their visit much thought until now. She hoped that, whatever it was that had brought them to Turnabout, it would keep them here for a while. Mr. Walker had taken a job, after all.

“If I am to advise you, then I think it’s important that I meet this young man and his charges.”

Cassie Lynn nodded in agreement, pleased that Mrs. Flanagan had given her the opening she wanted. “We could invite them to have supper with us tomorrow evening. Sort of as a neighborly gesture, welcoming them to town.”

“Excellent idea.” She stroked Dapple’s head absently “In the meantime I’ll think on what other men might also meet your requirements.”

Cassie Lynn smiled as she pulled the cast-iron pot from its hook above the stove. Having the Walkers over for supper would do more than give her an opportunity to get to know them better.

It had surprised her that Mrs. Flanagan never had anyone, other than Dr. Pratt or Reverend Harper, drop in to see her since her accident. The woman apparently didn’t have any close friends.

Cassie Lynn had been trying to come up with a way to remedy that. But how did she invite people to come by and visit a flinty widow who’d never made any effort to make friends with her neighbors?

And now she would be able to do just that. Having Mrs. Flanagan help her find a suitor wouldn’t just benefit her, it would give the widow purpose, as well.

And wouldn’t it be nice if Mr. Walker turned out to be the one.

From a purely expedient perspective, of course.

Chapter Four

Cassie Lynn exited the Blue Bottle Sweet Shop the next afternoon with a spring in her step. Eve Dawson had sold all four fruit tarts she’d delivered to her this morning, and was very happy with her customers’ reactions to them. It had been the same story with Daisy Fulton over at the restaurant. Both of them had placed additional orders for her goods.

If the worst happened and Cassie Lynn ended up back at her father’s farm—though she still wasn’t ready to surrender to that possibility—she would have the pleasure of knowing that folks enjoyed her baked goods well enough to pay for them.

Of course, if she was being entirely honest with herself, part of the reason for the lightness of her mood was her current destination, the livery. She was looking forward to visiting Scarlett and Duchess again, of course. But she was hoping she might also run into Mr. Walker. He was working there, after all.

When Cassie Lynn arrived at the corral she saw Scarlett and Mr. Walker’s horse, River, penned there. But Duchess wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Scarlett trotted over to the fence, nickered and tossed her head.

“And hello to you, too,” Cassie Lynn said as she reached into her basket for one of the carrots she’d brought for just that purpose.

To her delight, River wasn’t far behind. “Well hello, boy. Ready to be friends.” She held out a carrot and the horse took it as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.