Texas Cinderella (13 page)

Chapter Sixteen

R
iley abruptly released her and stepped back.

Clearing his throat, he reached for Duchess's reins. “Why don't you get our picnic set up while I tend to the horses?”

“All right.”

He heard the confusion in her voice. Was it because of what had almost happened? Or because he'd broken it off before anything could happen?

Best not to ponder that question. Instead he focused on tending to the animals while she retrieved the picnic basket and blanket.

By the time he had the horses taken care of she had the blanket spread under a tree and was unloading the food and dishes.

When he neared, she looked up and offered an easy smile of greeting, as if that little moment of awkwardness between them had never happened. Relieved, he sat down on the blanket across from her.

He wasn't going to push his luck by getting too close to her right now.

“So what did our friends pack us for lunch?” he asked.

“They did very well by us. There's some cold fried chicken, bread, cheese and a couple slices of pound cake.”

“A feast, indeed.”

Cassie filled their plates, and then Riley asked the blessing.

As they began eating, she gave him a smile. “I can see why you enjoy riding so much. It makes one feel on top of the world.”

“So you don't think that'll be your last ride?”

“Not if I can help it.”

If only he could stick around here to go on some of those rides with her.

Once they'd finished the main portion of the meal, Cassie placed a piece of cake on two plates and handed one to him. As he took his first bite, though, he realized she was just picking at hers with her fork. Was something worrying her?

“Not hungry?” he asked lightly. “Or do you just prefer pie?”

She glanced up guiltily and then smiled sheepishly. “Last night, you asked me for a favor and shared something very personal with me in order to explain exactly what it was you were asking.”

He nodded. “And I truly appreciate your ready agreement to help.”

“I was wondering if perhaps I could turn the tables on you now.”

“How so?”

“I have a favor to ask, but it involves something a bit personal.”

Now this sounded interesting. “Ask away.” Whatever this favor was, it must be something big. She seemed unduly nervous and slightly embarrassed.

“The thing is, I don't have much experience speaking to men besides my pa and brothers.” She pushed a stray tendril behind her ear, not quite meeting Riley's gaze. “I mean, of course there are shopkeepers and such, but I'm talking about speaking to men on a more personal basis. In fact, there's only you and maybe Mr. Chandler.”

Who was this Mr. Chandler? And why had she been speaking to him on a personal basis? But Riley supposed that was none of his business. “Go on.”

She fidgeted a moment, then seemed to gather up her courage. “I need to propose marriage to someone, and I don't quite know how to go about it.”

That completely unexpected confession set him back, hard. Propose marriage? Had he really heard her right?

She grimaced. “I suppose I should explain.”

“That might be best.”

“You heard me talking to my brother yesterday about how he and Dinah are going to be moving into their own place soon.”

Riley nodded.

“Well, when they do, my pa wants me to move back home so I can take care of him and my other three brothers—cook their meals, do their laundry, keep the house clean, that sort of thing.”

In other words, be an unpaid housekeeper. “And you don't want to go.” Riley could certainly understand that.

She shook her head, looking miserable. “You must think me a wretchedly ungrateful daughter.”

He reached over and clasped her hand. “Not at all. You're a grown woman, with a life of your own to live. And you deserve to have the opportunity to live it.”

“I wish my pa felt that way.” Then she sobered again. “The thing is, it's what I did for most of the last ten years. My ma died when I was thirteen, and my pa pulled me out of school so I could do all those chores she always managed.” Cassie gave him a weak grin. “I'd never appreciated how much my ma really did until her chores became mine.”

Pulled her out of school? Seeing as she set such a great score by schooling, that must have been hard on Cassie.

“The farm is several miles from town, and not on the main road, and after Ma passed, Pa didn't have much use for church. So without school or church services, I didn't get to see many folks besides the family.”

“That must have been difficult.” And lonely.

She shrugged off his sympathy and continued with her story. “All that changed eight months ago when Verne married Dinah. They moved into the house and I was able to turn it all over to her. I came to town and haven't been back since.”

“I can't say I blame you for that. And now your father wants you to return home when your brother and his wife move out.”

Cassie nodded. “But don't get me wrong, my pa has a good heart and is a very hard worker. He gets up when the sun rises and works until it sets. He just doesn't think he should be expected to do all the woman's work around the place, too.”

Before Riley could respond to that, she hurried on. “That's why I need to find a husband. I've tried reasoning with my pa, and then I tried standing up to him, but he just waves aside everything I say. But I figure if I was married, he couldn't very well expect me to leave my husband to go take care of him.”

That seemed a rather drastic solution. “Surely there are other options.”

Her lips set in a stubborn line. “You don't know my father.” Then she waved a hand impatiently. “Besides, I don't have much time. Pa expects me to return home as soon as Mrs. Flanagan is back on her feet.”

“That's still no reason to get married.”

“It may not be the
best
reason to get married, but it's better than some. At least I'll make certain we both know what we're getting into, unlike some lovesick pair who feel cheated later when the reality doesn't match their dream.”

That was a mighty cynical outlook for a young woman. What sort of marriage had her parents had? “What about your bakery business?”

She nodded as if he'd just agreed with her. “That's yet another reason for me to go through with this. If I don't convince my father that I won't be returning home, then there won't
be
a bakery business.”

Was Cassie so afraid of her father? Or was this some exaggerated form of daughterly obedience?

“Besides, it's my fault my ma is not around to do for him,” she stated.

That brought Riley up short. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it's my fault she passed when she did.”

Surely it hadn't been as dire as Cassie made it sound?

“Ma always made sure Pa didn't interfere with my schooling and that I had time to do my studies,” she began. “She said she wanted me to have a chance to be a schoolteacher if I wanted.” Cassie's expression turned bittersweet. “I think that had been her own dream before she gave it up to marry Pa.”

“It sounds like she was a mighty fine woman.”

“She was. Anyway, on this particular day, I was supposed to hoe the weeds in the garden. But I didn't want to. So I told Ma about a spelling bee we would be having in class the next day.”

Wherever this was headed, Riley knew it wasn't going to end well. “You were a child. Sometimes children act childishly.”

The look Cassie shot him said clearly just what she thought of
that
statement. “She insisted I stay in and study while she took care of the garden, just as I'd known she would.” Cassie's gaze dropped to her hands. “I already knew most of the words, but I told myself I could use some more practice.”

“I take it something happened.”

She nodded. “While Ma was out in the garden, doing work I should have been doing, she got bit by a coral snake.”

Riley saw the grief on Cassie's face, heard the self-blame in her tone. “That wasn't your fault,” he said firmly.

She glared at him. “Wasn't it? I didn't really need to study. In fact, I was doing more daydreaming than studying. And while I was thinking about Asa Redding, who'd smiled at me in class that morning, my ma was dying in the garden. She never even made it back to the house.”

“Your mother did what she did because she loved you and wanted you to have a better life. If she hadn't taken your place, and it had been you who died of a snakebite, how do you think she would have felt?”

Cassie waved her hand again, dismissing his argument. “I told you all of that so you would know why I need to take this step. Because unless I find a husband, something that allows me to turn down Pa's request with a reason he'll accept, then I will have no choice but to return home as he asks. And I need to do this before my work for Mrs. Flanagan is complete.”

Riley raked a hand through his hair, not at all comfortable with where this conversation was headed.

“Well, will you help me or not?”

“Help you how?”

“Figure out how to go about this.”

He couldn't believe he was in this situation. “Let me make sure I understand. What you're asking is if I can tell you the best way for you to propose to a man?”

She beamed at him. “Exactly.”

“Any man in particular?” he asked, trying desperately to stall in giving her an answer.

“Actually, I have a list of men who meet the qualities I'm looking for.”

She'd come up with a list of both requirements and men who fit them? That seemed to be a very...practical approach to finding a husband. “And what might those qualities be?”

She listed her three criteria, then leaned back. “So you see, I've given this quite a bit of thought.”

“How well do you know these men?”

She picked at a piece of lint on her skirt. “Not well at all.”

“Mind if I ask how many are on your list?”

“Three.”

She said that proudly, as if it were a major accomplishment.

“And I've prioritized them. That way, if the first one turns me down, I have some backups.”

“Very practical.”

The look she shot him let him know she'd caught the hint of sarcasm in his tone. But she apparently decided to let it pass. “The first name on the list is Mr. Edmondson, the blacksmith, if that makes a difference.”

Riley immediately pulled up a mental image of the man. Edmondson had to be more than twice her age. He was a big, burly fellow with hands the size of dinner plates, and who seemed to wear a perpetual scowl. The idea of him being married to young, sunny-tempered, idealistic Cassie was totally appalling.

But she hadn't asked for Riley's opinion on her choice. She'd asked for his help in executing her plan. And he owed it to her to give it his best shot. “However you approach Edmondson, he's going to be taken by surprise. Has he always been a bachelor or is he a widower?”

“Widower.”

“How long ago did his wife pass?”

“About five years ago, I believe.”

“Then his loss isn't so recent that your proposition would be unseemly.”

“At least not on that account.” Her wry tone told him she hadn't lost her sense of humor.

“Right. If this were me you were proposing to, I guess your best approach would be to explain, without any histrionics, what the situation is and what you are proposing. And if you could come up with any benefits to me in the arrangement, you should stress those, as well.”

She hugged her knees with clasped hands. “That's the same thing I thought.” Her lips curled in a crooked smile. “And don't worry, I never was one for histrionics.” She cut him a sideways glance. “Mrs. Flanagan suggested I practice before I actually approach anyone.”

“That makes sense.”

“So, do you mind if I practice with you?”

He was afraid she'd ask that. But he saw the pink climbing up her neck and into her face. It hadn't been easy for her to ask this, so how could he refuse? “All right.” Then he stood and reached down a hand to her. “But this will probably be a more effective practice if we stand face-to-face.”

With a nod, Cassie took his hand and allowed him to help her up. She brushed her skirt for a few moments, not meeting his gaze.

Then she squared her shoulders and looked Riley in the eye. “Mr. Edmondson, may I have a moment of your time?”

Okay, so she was ready to move right into this. Riley crossed his arms over his chest and pasted on the kind of puzzled frown he expected the blacksmith to give her. “Is there something I can do for you—Miss Vickers, is it?”

“Yes, sir, Cassie Lynn Vickers, Alvin Vickers's daughter. I have a proposal for you, one I hope you will see as mutually beneficial.”

He held on to his serious, slightly disapproving demeanor. “And what might that be?”

“I want to build a bakery business here in town, but my father wants me to move back home to be his housekeeper. The only thing that would please him more than that is for me to get married. So I'm looking for a husband.”

Well, that was direct. “Now wait a minute, if you're suggesting—”

“Please hear me out, sir.”

He was surprised by her tone. Somehow she managed to be both firm and polite.

“I'm not looking for romantic entanglements,” she continued, managing to keep her voice mostly steady, “so you don't have to worry about that. And I'm a good cook and housekeeper. I would make sure you had hot, tasty meals every day and that your house was clean and neat and your laundry got done.”

She moistened her lips as if they'd gone dry. “I would also provide as much or as little companionship as you wish. All I ask is that you give me your name and your word that I will be free to operate my bakery business.”