Her Cinderella Heart

Did Eric even remember he had a brother? And what were those memories?

That was the information Peter needed most.

Peter prided himself on his ability to size up a person within the first few minutes of meeting and talking with them. Many of his business decisions had been made within a very short time. He evaluated everyone involved in a project, not just the logistics. In fact, he’d earned a reputation for lightning decisions based on how he scrutinized his opponents and associates.

That was true until three days ago.

Then he’d talked to Pastor Michael Faraday. The minister had gently pointed out that in such an important matter of family, it might not be wise to make a snap judgment. Peter’s ultimate decision was too important, surely, to rely on only a few minutes of acquaintance between Eric and himself. They should have had a lifetime of understanding between them; brothers should know each other well. But they’d been cheated of that.

According to the pastor, Eric was a very private man, not given to making friends easily. He had to give Eric time. Go slowly, Pastor Mike had advised.

Peter had been a teenager the last time he saw Eric. When Eric was only four, his mother, Faye, took him and fled from her marriage, from Peter’s father, Randall, and everything he stood for, changing their identities along the way. He hadn’t really blamed Faye. His father had created his own chaos.

After his father died, Peter expected Eric to show up to stake a claim to his healthy inheritance, but he never had. Later, it wasn’t important to wonder too closely what had happened to his brother; if Eric wanted any part in Peter’s life, he would come forward. After all, Eric and Faye knew where to find him. He wasn’t hiding. But he hadn’t known where they could be found.

Then last year…

A familiar pain crept up like a fog. Last year Peter’s only son had died of leukemia. Danny. Filled with a sorrow unlike any he’d ever known, Peter fought the tears that threatened. He felt unmanned by them, but they persisted whenever thoughts of his son surfaced. When would the pain ease?

He still grieved deeply, and guessed he always would. He’d had great hopes for Danny. Great plans.

The times he’d spent with his son were now confined to precious memories. Danny wasn’t coming back and he had to face the fact that he had no family left.

No one at all, except for Eric.

Then after months of silent suffering, he’d come out of his personal fog and finally began to look for his brother. Now he’d found him. He was elated with his hopes for a new relationship.

Yet questions haunted him. What kind of man was Eric? Did Eric grieve for his mother, Faye, who was now also dead? What had they done with their lives? Where had they lived? He wanted to know everything.

Instinctively, he trusted Mike Faraday. He’d flown to western Missouri at the suggestion of his private investigator, and set up a meeting with Pastor Mike the same day. He’d made a good choice when he decided to confide in the pastor. A good choice, indeed. Pastor Mike was a rare man of intelligence and integrity.

And Pastor Mike knew Eric. Eric Tilford— Eric Landers now. Pastor Mike had told him that Eric was a very private sort of man, but that Eric sometimes came to New Beginnings.

Sometimes he came, but not always. That was the catch.

Meeting at New Beginnings would be a neutral, nonthreatening way of sizing up Eric. Then he would know. Know what kind of man he was.

At the very least, he owed Eric his inheritance. He wanted to make it right between them, even though their separation hadn’t been of Peter’s making. But, buried deeply, he realized he wanted a brother.

Peter let out a deep sigh and steered his emotions away from the danger of falling into a deep well. Instead he thought about his evening.

He’d waited in edgy anticipation for Eric to arrive—and swallowed his extreme disappointment when he didn’t show. Set on his course of action, he stayed long enough to seem an ordinary visitor, listening in silence to Pastor Mike’s message, and waited another few moment to talk with him.

He was getting old, he decided, to have developed such patience. Fifty-two. He shook his head, wondering where the years had gone.

He didn’t usually waste his time with the kind of organization he’d attended last night. Rather old-fashioned and plebeian. Religious, too, which didn’t really interest him. It served other people better, he thought.

But after a lifetime of dealing with the inner circles of high finance and worldwide trade, and gaining acclaim for his business savvy, it didn’t hurt him, he supposed, to see how “regular” people lived their lives.

Take that Lori. She was smartly dressed, mentally sharp, and she’d mentioned being an attorney. She’d fit in anywhere. She wasn’t so different from the men and women he knew. He even had a few women like her on staff at his law firm.

While some of the men he’d been introduced to seemed to have no interest beyond the latest fishing hole or when baseball season would start, a few, such as Pastor Mike, discussed world events along with tax problems and how to chase the moles out of one’s yard. To his surprise, he hadn’t been bored.

How did one chase moles out of one’s yard? He chuckled outright because he didn’t know.

“Did you say something, Mr. Tilford?”

“No, Jackson, just thinking,” he replied. “Say, did you ever have occasion to chase moles from your yard?”

“Moles? No, sir. I live in an apartment.”

“Never mind. Just an idle thought.”

“Yes, sir.”

He fell silent again, and his thoughts returned to the company he was in the night before.

There had been that moment of comedy—right out of a slapstick movie—when Cassie spilled the coffee. Usually, he had no patience with careless waitresses—but Cassie wasn’t a waitress. She was a guest at that meeting just as he was. He’d surprised himself when he felt no ire and recognized her act of kindness for what it was when she freshened his coffee.

She certainly hadn’t known who he was. The only person he had to be careful of was that ex-model, Samantha. She might recognize him.

He suspected Cassie was a quiet woman. Her brown skirt, beige blouse and sensible shoes certainly held no spark or style. Yet unlike Lori’s sophisticated flirtation, Cassie’s green eyes had returned his gaze with an undisguised interest that was as easy to read as the newspaper. Her gaze was guileless. Something he saw there flattered him, just a little.

He’d enjoyed the surprise on her face when he did his very bad Bogart imitation, something he hadn’t done since his college days. He’d even laughed at himself for doing it.

Surprisingly, he’d actually had fun for those few moments. There had been very little to tickle his amusement in the past few years. Certainly not since Danny had passed away.

Why now? Why something so simple?

Perhaps it had been too long since he’d seen genuine interest from a woman for simply being a man. No frills, no expectations, just a thread of plain attraction.

He switched his cell phone on, and two seconds later it rang. Automatically, he reached for it. His incognito jaunt had come to an end and his business agenda and calendar demanded his immediate attention. “Yes?”

“Peter! At last!” Tony’s frustration made his tone gruff. “I’ve been calling you for hours.”

“Don’t sweat it, Tony. I’ll be there in time for our lunch meeting with Carter and Jones….”

It came to him as a certainty. He’d be back to the eastern edge of Kansas City, Missouri, for sure. New Beginnings met each week and he’d arrange to be there often enough to meet Eric, and to discover if Eric wanted to know him. He’d rather enjoyed his time spent there. Being anonymous was a new experience. Why shouldn’t he have a little fun?

Just after noon, Cassie grabbed her blue canvas lunch bag and thankfully headed toward the teacher’s lounge. Fridays the kids were always fidgety in anticipation of the weekend, and today was no exception. The weekend promised to be beautiful. They’d been so restless today she felt like tearing out her hair.

Rico was the worst—he couldn’t sit still nor keep himself quiet for more than five minutes. He agitated the other children around him on purpose.

Cassie liked the boy, and thought he needed only a little more personal attention at home. But his mother had five others at home, a busy husband and no extra time to give Rico.

If Cassie had to call Rico’s mother one more time…

She’d have to pray and think about it, Cassie decided as she swung open the teacher’s lounge door and plopped her bag on the table. Maybe she could find another way to help Rico.

“Hey, Cassie,” Jacqueline, who taught sixth-graders, greeted from the cola machine. “Did you get that notice on the visiting Oregon Trail historian for next week?”

“Hi. Yeah, I have it.” Cassie grimaced at Jacqueline’s lunch plate from the cafeteria and dug into her bag for her tuna sandwich on whole wheat. “I thought I’d do some reading over the weekend to refresh my memory of trail lore. Couldn’t hurt to be prepared.”

“Not me,” Liz Dapple remarked, scooping cottage cheese into her full, perfectly shaped mouth. Her quick glance held a bit of the usual withering pity for anyone who took their job too seriously. “I don’t plan on wasting my time on anything related to kids, school, clocks or bells. I’m going to have a luxurious dinner and a cuddle with my honey, a shopping spree tomorrow, and then a long Sunday in the park.”

A cuddle with someone loved. Cassie could picture the romantic thought.

“My weekend won’t contain anyone who doesn’t stand taller than me, either,” Amanda Smith remarked with a grin. “I do have to clean house, though. And then Dwayne and I are going to a concert with friends.”

A concert with friends. That sounded fun….

“Wish I could say the same,” Donna chipped in with a sigh. “But it’s an animated feature film for us with our kids tonight, then after some major laundry tomorrow, my hubby and I are working in the yard.”

“By the time I leave here on Fridays I’ve had enough of smart-mouthed kids,” Jacqueline said. Still in her twenties, she’d just graduated from college, and had come to the school as a substitute. “I’m going to a friend’s party down in Westport and I’ll hopefully meet some cute guys.”

“My boy Derrick and I are heading to Branson just as soon as the final bell rings,” Farley, the band teacher, said. He brushed a hand over his balding head, tapping a rhythm on his forehead. “Do a little fishing on Table Rock Lake, then take in a music show, maybe.”

Dinners, concerts, parties. It was a repeat of the litany Cassie heard every weekend, every holiday and vacation. What Cassie wouldn’t give to have what Donna had—a husband and family of her own.

“Mmm…” Her sigh sounded more like a groan. Several pairs of eyes turned her way.

“Um, I—” She shoved a pickle chip into her mouth, and mumbled, “I’m going to a—a—”

She didn’t want to call it a Bible Study. This group already thought her an immense Goody Two-shoes, and except for Donna, who was a believer like herself, most of them didn’t understand her love of Godly things and her eager spiritual journey.

Goody Two-shoes. She was so tired of that tag. Besides, she couldn’t bear another pitying glance over her reports of another quiet weekend spent alone.

“A Friday night thing at a friend’s house, then maybe an outing on Sunday afternoon with…um, someone new in my life.”

Peter came to mind, with his silver hair and his eyes the color of a summer sky. They made her insides all shivery. Cassie stopped chewing while she drifted off.

Amanda gave her a curious stare. “Cassie?”

“Someone new?” Jacqueline asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

“Uh—you could say that.” Cassie let a smile form, then picked at the remainder of her sandwich.

“Do tell,” Amanda begged.

“Cassie has a boyfriend?” Jacqueline sounded just too incredulous. It set Cassie’s back up.

“Why is that so surprising?” she wanted to know, her sudden heated look defying Jacqueline to add another remark. Then she turned to answer Amanda. “It’s too soon. There’s nothing to tell.”

Then slanting a mysterious glance at Jacqueline, she let her mouth curve. “Yet….”

Now what was she doing? Implying something that wasn’t there. Lying, Dad would call it. But she had met a gorgeous man, and he had smiled an incredible smile at her. She had exchanged conversation with him. She did hope to see him again, didn’t she? It wasn’t a lie.

She ruthlessly pushed Peter out of her thoughts. She should do something about Rico, something practical, that’s what she should be thinking about.

She’d call Rico’s mother and ask to take Rico and his two older sisters to see the National Trails museum in Independence. From the last time she’d talked to Mrs. Sanchez, she thought the harried woman would welcome the suggestion. That should give them all an outing, and it sure would beat having to make another complaining call.

However, to set things straight…

“Then again,” she spoke up in a decisive tone, “I have a different interest in another direction, too. So perhaps Sunday will turn out…oh, you know.”

Rico couldn’t be counted on to remain quiet about the excursion if they went, but she’d chance it. His two sisters were already in middle school; they were unlikely to rat on her.

“Two guys? Cassie, you flirt!” Liz teased.

Heat climbed Cassie’s cheeks. “Not really two. The one isn’t really dating material. But I’m not sure if my first choice will be in town.”

“It’s about time you met someone new,” Donna kindly remarked as she got up from the table to throw trash away. “What’s he like?”

Much too good-looking for comfort.

“Who’s the dreamboat?” Jacqueline asked.

“Oh, just someone…” Cassie mumbled, then caught herself. She spotted Donna giving the young substitute a quelling stare, pity lying in the depths of Donna’s brown eyes. Oh, no! They were doing it again!

Cassie cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “As for Peter—” she boldly named him. She didn’t know if she’d ever really see him again, but at least he was real. “I honestly don’t know yet. We’re merely at the exploring stage.”

“Well, at least tell us—is he cute?” Liz asked.

“Mmm, is he ever! He has eyes that are so blue….”

Chapter Three

Stars twinkled in the velvety heavens as Cassie reached the dark River Bluff parking lot Easter morning. It was barely 5:00 a.m. Several male figures, momentarily unidentifiable, were unloading chairs from a truck. One paused to peer at her.

“Cassie?” Pastor Mike’s voice floated her way.

“Yes, it’s me.” She hugged her blue wool jacket closer against the morning chill as she got out of her car. Her lined slacks felt comfortable for now, but she suspected she’d be glad to change them to something lighter by the time she returned home midmorning. “Can I help?”

“Sure can. Come hold this lantern high so we can see what we’re doing. We’ve a number of metal garden hooks to hold our lanterns, but we have to get them into the ground. As soon as we have more lights hung, it won’t be so dark along this rocky path.”

Cassie grabbed the camp lantern and held it high above her head. Another truck arrived with more chairs and more people. Pam and her two teenage boys piled out, saying hi, and then setting to work. As the tall garden hooks were inserted into the ground every few yards, Cassie traipsed back and forth from the truck to wherever a lantern was needed.

Pam joined her in hanging lanterns as the men passed them along the way. Cassie enjoyed the camaraderie the work created. Soft voices rose in greeting as people arrived, a few calling to tease, some offering encouragement along every step on the path, some making reverent remarks. Finally, the metallic sound of unfolding chairs ceased. Above, the chairs were set in a semicircle facing east.

Cassie, as directed, stationed herself about a third of the way up the path, where a sharp turn might create a difficulty for an older worshipper. Pam was just above her, shivering.

“I hope it warms up in the next hour,” Pam remarked. “It’s chillier than I expected.”

Cassie agreed, pulling gloves from her pocket. “I remembered to bring a blanket, just in case I might need one. Seems we’ll definitely need one.”

Pam swung her torso around to rev up her circulation. “I did, too, but the boys have them.”

“You can share mine if you want,” Cassie offered.

“Thanks. I suspect I’ll need it.”

As the sky lightened, more people streamed by on their way to the top of the bluff. Most were young twentysomethings, a number were teens and a few were families with older children. Less were older, but Cassie and Pam cheerfully leant an arm to those who needed it up the stone-filled path. Thankfully, Cassie noted that many carried a blanket or throw against the chill.

Cassie gazed up the hill when she heard the first chords of a keyboard. A lovely soprano voice began to sing a joyous song, and then an alto joined in.

“We should go,” Pam said, her head turned toward the music. They couldn’t see the singers, but their floating voices sounded wonderful. “They’re starting.”

Glancing downhill, Cassie saw the parking lot was not only filled, but overflowed. And there seemed no one left to arrive.

“Okay. Go ahead,” she said over her shoulder, starting downhill. “I’ll be there just as soon as I get my blanket out of my car.”

A low roar reached her as Cassie opened her trunk to pull out the old navy blanket she used for picnics. A moment later, a heavy black motorcycle drove up into the lot and stopped. The motor shut off.

The rider wore a scuffed black leather jacket, jeans and boots that had seen better days. He settled the bike and swung off, his hands going up to his helmet.

Cassie closed her trunk, hugging the blanket close to her chest. Was he here to join the worship service or had he stopped for another purpose? This was a public park and the rider might not know that it was in use.

Perhaps he’d like to join the service anyway. She took a step away from her car. “Can I help you? We have a sunrise worship—”

The helmet came off, and a mass of silver hair sprang free. The man glanced over his shoulder, showing her his profile. A strong nose, a defined mouth, a firm chin and a lock of gorgeous hair over a dark brow. Cassie felt the breath swoosh out of her. “Peter?”

“Am I late?”

“A bit.” She blinked like a starstruck schoolgirl, instantly glad she’d taken the plunge to have her hair stylishly cut and highlighted the day before. It fluffed on top, but clung at the neck. It made her look at least five years younger. “Did you have trouble finding the park?”

“No. The map and directions Pastor Mike sent me were good.”

Pastor Mike sent him a map?

“Then you must have come a long way this morning.”

“Actually, I did.” He gave a halfhearted grin. “Had some business to wrap up that kept me up till midnight two nights running, and then yesterday, I couldn’t leave before late in the day. Shall we go?” His attitude was as if it were nothing. He gestured toward the lit path as the sound of the entire congregation in song drifted down.

What kind of business kept him until midnight?

“Sure. I was just going up, but came back for my blanket.”

“Let’s go, then.”

He took her elbow as they climbed the dirt path. For a few delirious moments, Cassie imagined he did so because he thought her worthy of protection. That she was his to cherish. It was little enough to dream on, she reminded herself, a simple act of kindness. Yet she was a little old to let herself go nutty over so light a touch. And a gloved touch, at that.

Still, she let herself enjoy it.

Cassie pulled her swirling thoughts around to concentrate on the service and pointed out two empty chairs next to Pam at the rear of the crowd. They made their way to them.

A finger of sunlight shafted over the horizon as they sat down, and she felt her spirit lift high with the light and celebration. Without thought, she spread her blanket over her cold legs, distributing the ends to Pam and Peter on either side of her. Peter gave her a sideways glance, his mouth slightly tilting as he accepted his end.

Resolute, Cassie focused her gaze forward.

Christ our Lord is risen today…. A quartet reminded them in the old, meaningful song, then urged all to join.

Lord, how grateful I am to be here this day. To worship You on a hilltop. It is the greatest reminder….

Pastor Mike began his sermon. Behind him, the sunlight slowly pushed back the night. For one brief moment, a single ray lit Pastor Mike’s face.

A fitting picture, Cassie thought. There’s nothing more completely dreadful and altogether beautiful than the recounting of the resurrection story. That terrible black day, turned to three. Then glorious victory…Christ’s victory over evil when He rose from death, and His salvation made available for us all through faith….

Cassie’s heart swelled with that hope and faith. Beside her, she felt Peter grow still. Listening. Taking it all in, every word. How long had it been since he’d heard the story? Had he ever, she wondered? Or perhaps never to the point of belief?

She had no way of knowing what Peter believed. She didn’t know where he was in his own walk with the Lord, or if he’d even begun one, but she suddenly felt the need to offer up a silent prayer for him. Something about him stirred her in a way beyond the obvious attraction.

Lord, speak to him now…. Let his heart be ready….

She shouldn’t be so aware of him—but she was. It wasn’t fair that he distracted her when she didn’t want to be distracted. She barely heard the close of the service.

They rose for one last song and Pastor Mike’s gentle benediction.

“Thanks for sharing, Cassie,” Pam said, folding her end of the blanket into Cassie’s hands.

“Yeah, thanks,” came from Peter as he, too, stood and stretched. His tone dropped to a low growl. “It was very nice of you. Excuse me, please. There’s someone I need to see.”

“You’re welcome,” Cassie replied, trying not to watch him walk away. Trying not to let her disappointment of his quick abandonment show.

Cassie admonished herself. How could she feel abandoned when she barely knew the man? Besides, she’d had his company for the whole service, hadn’t she?

Pam stretched to her toes to scan the worshippers. “Now where did my boys get to? Can you see them? They promised to help carry chairs back. Then we’re off to see their dad’s parents. They don’t get out much anymore, and I try to get the boys over to see them about every week.”

“I think they’re over there.” Cassie pointed to the outer edge of the crowd where a clutch of teens stood.

“So they are. Okay. See you later.”

Cassie finished folding the blanket, gathered her purse and glanced at her watch. It wasn’t even eight-thirty, and the whole day stretched before her.

She could go to another Easter service. A more traditional one. Perhaps in the church where she and her father had gone. Yet that had little appeal.

“Are you going for breakfast?” Cassie overheard someone ask another worshipper. A woman with a family in tow, she noted.

“Yes, are you coming? We’re meeting at Chase’s, but we have to leave there no later than ten. Bill’s folks are doing dinner, it takes us an hour to drive it, and they don’t like us to be late.”

Cassie hid a sigh. This was when she missed her parents most. She had no one left to spend holidays with. No one to ask her to dinner on Easter, or any special days. Yet she was taking steps to make new friends, wasn’t she? She’d joined New Beginnings. And she found it exciting and stimulating, both spiritually and in other ways.

She looked around now as the crowd trooped down to the parking lot. Perhaps there were others who were as alone as she who wanted to spend the day together.