Texas Cinderella

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He nodded, his nose wrinkling in puzzlement. “I was just wondering... The doctor said Pru has chicken pox, but we haven’t been around any chickens lately.”

Cassie Lynn gave him a grin. “You don’t get chicken pox from being around chickens.” Then she lifted her hands in an it-makes-no-sense gesture. “I don’t know why it’s called that. It is kind of a silly name for an illness, isn’t it?”

She suddenly snapped her fingers. “You know what? I just realized that with all this excitement, we never had dessert. How about I fix you and Mrs. Flanagan each a piece of that cherry pie I baked earlier, and you can eat it while I’m cleaning up the supper dishes. Would you like that?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Then Noah turned serious. “But if you need help with the dishes, I can do that first.”

It appeared the boy had been taught his manners. “Thank you, Noah, that’s very kind. But you’re our guest, and it would hurt my feelings if you didn’t try out that pie I baked just for you and your family.”

With a nod, the boy happily moved to the table.

As Cassie Lynn carried a load of dishes to the kitchen, she pondered what impact this unexpected situation would have on her plans.

First she’d learned Mr. Walker was not going to settle in Turnabout, which took him out of the running for a potential husband. Then, in a twist, it turned out that he and his charges were not only going to remain in Turnabout for a couple weeks, but they were most likely going to be spending most of that time here at Mrs. Flanagan’s place.

Of course, Mr. Walker still wasn’t a candidate. Problem was, could Cassie Lynn effectively look for another man with the extra workload she now had? Not to mention the extra distraction, no matter how pleasant that distraction might be...

On the other hand, it seemed Mr. Walker’s plans were rather loose. Could he perhaps develop a fondness for Turnabout during the time he was here?

Then she grimaced. Why did her wayward mind keep trying to add Mr. Walker to her husband list? She needed to accept he wasn’t a candidate and move on.

Didn’t she?

* * *

Riley stepped into his hotel room and began gathering up the few things the kids would need for an overnight stay. The first thing he grabbed was Bitsy. He studied the cloth doll and winced over how bedraggled it had become since his sister-in-law’s death. Just one more sign that he was not as observant about the kids’ everyday needs as he should be.

Then he found the few items of clothing they’d need and stuffed them all in a carpetbag.

He didn’t like this arrangement, not one bit. The kids were his responsibility, not that of the ladies. And while they seemed nice enough, what did he really know about them? Other than that Miss Vickers was pretty and sweet and could cook better than his ma? And that Mrs. Flanagan had a sharp manner but seemed well-meaning at heart.

Of course, one could never count on outward appearances and first impressions. He just had to look to his stepfather and stepbrother to learn the truth of that.

Then there was the lady in Kansas City he’d hired to look after the kids while he worked. She’d seemed responsible enough, but she’d ended up not only neglecting her charges, but absconding with a necklace that had belonged to Pru’s mother.

No, trust was something he didn’t give lightly.

On the other hand, even he didn’t think the kids would be in any real danger with the ladies for one night. Apparently, unlike him, they’d both dealt with sick kids before and knew how to take care of them. And it was unlikely Guy would show up in the middle of the night.

Riley had to admit he wasn’t opposed to seeing more of Miss Vickers. Not that it could go anywhere, but still, it was nice spending time in her company.

He shook his head, trying to clear it of such dangerous thoughts. He couldn’t afford to make connections of that sort, not while he and the children were still on the run.

Perhaps a good night’s sleep would help him see matters more clearly in the morning.

Chapter Seven (#ulink_b258a4f7-c5ca-5d5c-be67-e8c1cb68aebc)

Cassie awoke earlier than normal the next morning. As she took extra care brushing and pinning her hair, she told herself it was definitely not because she’d see Mr. Walker soon. Last night, when he’d delivered the children’s things, she’d told him that he was welcome to join them for breakfast this morning, and he’d told her to expect him bright and early.

Her room was right next to the one the children were in and she quietly peeked inside to check on them. To her relief they were both still asleep, though Pru rolled over restlessly as Cassie watched.

She left the door slightly ajar as she stepped out, then headed for the kitchen. Her first order of business would be to set a nice hearty vegetable and bone broth simmering on the stove for Pru, and then she’d get breakfast started for the rest of them.

Mrs. Flanagan’s hens usually produced five to six eggs a day. With four people to feed she’d have to use every one of them for the meal. Any eggs she needed for her baking would have to be purchased from the mercantile. But she supposed that was only right—she shouldn’t be counting on Mrs. Flanagan to provide her with ingredients, anyway. After all, her employer was providing the kitchen and the baking pans she needed.

As Cassie Lynn neared the kitchen, she wrinkled her nose in confusion. Was that coffee she smelled?

She hurried forward and saw Mr. Walker sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee wrapped in his hands, a look of worry furrowing his brow.

He stood as soon as she entered the room. “Good morning. I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Couldn’t sleep?”

He shook his head ruefully. “How did Pru and Noah do last night?”

“Pru was a bit restless, but for the most part they slept through the night. I imagine today is going to be rougher for Pru, though, as the blisters form and start itching. I remember what an ordeal it was to keep my brothers from scratching themselves raw when they had it.”

He winced at that. “I vaguely remember having it myself, but not any of the particulars.”

She raised a brow as she crossed the room to fetch an apron from the peg by the door. “You must have been mighty young.” She tied the apron strings behind her back. “Taking care of Pru and Noah is going to require lots of patience, as well as a bit of creativity in finding ways to distract them.”

He grimaced. “Right now two weeks sounds like an excessively long time.”

“About that.” Cassie Lynn crossed her arms. “Mrs. Flanagan and I spoke about your situation last night. We’d like to offer to help you care for the children for as long as they’re sick. Both of us have dealt with this before—me with my brothers, she with her sons. But that means letting them stay here with us while they get through this.”

As she’d expected, his jaw set in that stubborn line again. “That’s a generous offer, but—”

She held up a hand. “I understand your hesitation at being separated from them for so long, but all the reasons we discussed for not moving them last night still apply today. Besides, we’ve come up with a solution that should make this easier on everyone—you can stay here, too.”

He raised a brow at that, his lips twisting wryly. “You’re inviting me to, what—camp out on the sofa in the parlor for two weeks?”

She fetched her large stockpot and started filling it with water. “Well, you could do that,” she said, as she transferred the pot to the stove. “Or you could use the attic. I’m afraid there’s no bed up there, but it’s roomy and will provide you with some privacy. Mrs. Flanagan has lots of extra quilts you can use to make yourself a passably comfortable pallet, if you don’t mind bedding down on the floor.”

Mr. Walker shook his head. “Believe me, I’ve bunked down in far less comfortable accommodations.” Then he rubbed his jaw, his expression indicating he still wasn’t convinced.

Did he have that much trouble letting go of his notions of how things should go?