Cinderfella by Linda Winstead Jones Read Free Book Online

look forward to meeting them.”
    Was that a laugh? She couldn’t be sure. Either that, or Ash had very quickly cleared his throat. “I’ll pass the invitation along. Verna will be pleased.”
    He was staring at her again, silent and a bit too attentive, those mossy green eyes locked boldly to hers. It was quite unnerving.
    â€œIs she here? I could meet her and deliver the invitation personally.”
    Ash shook his head. “They’ve all gone to town. You probably passed them on the road.” His voice was gritty and soft. “A wagon pulled by two grays, with an older woman and two men.”
    â€œI took a short cut.” She smiled in spite of her unease. “Through the pasture and the trees that line your property. There’s a small break in the fence, by the way.” She shifted in her seat to look over her shoulder. “Right about there.” She lifted a hand and pointed in the direction she’d come from.
    Ash shook his head. “I had Oswald check that section of fence just two days ago.”
    â€œOswald. That’s one of your stepbrothers, I assume.”
    Ash lifted his eyes to her again. Good heavens, how very brazenly he stared at her. She ignored her consternation and gave Ash an audacious stare of her own. He looked as if he had something to say. His chest rose and fell, his fingers twitched. Finally, he answered with a simple and inadequate “Yes.”
    â€œWell, I really should be getting back,” she said cheerfully, trying not to show her desire for escape. What had she expected, that she’d arrive and find Ash Coleman waiting anxiously for her? Dressed in a fine suit, unchanged by the time that had passed, a gentleman farmer who would make her feel like a happy child again?
    â€œI guess you should,” he agreed.
    â€œPlease reconsider coming to the party,” she said, the new invitation an impulse she couldn’t contain. Why, she wasn’t quite sure. It was the polite thing to say, and so was most likely her mother’s influence coming to the surface. “There will be so many strangers there, a few friendly faces would be a comfort to me.”
    She thought he might actually smile again. The muscles at the corners of his mouth twitched, and there was a pleasant softening of his features. “A masked ball. Well, if I’m going to step foot in the Haley house I reckon it had better be in disguise.”
    Charmaine found herself smiling down at the muddy, dirty, hairy man who had disappointed her by not being a beautiful seventeen-year-old boy. How silly she was! Time had passed for Ash just as it had for her, and he was no more a child than she was. “Surely you don’t think my father holds a grudge?”
    â€œHe mutters and grumbles and spits whenever I happen to see him in town, and the only words I can ever make out are ‘barbed wire.’ ”
    â€œThat was an awfully long time ago,” Charmaine said. “I’m sure you misunderstood.”
    She expected a smile and a shrug of those broad shoulders, but Ash’s eyes were perfectly serious, and he didn’t smile. “I don’t think so, Runt. He wouldn’t like you being here.”
    Charmaine didn’t agree or disagree, but it was the truth. Her father had been furious with John Coleman for putting up that barbed wire, and Stuart Haley was not what anyone would call a forgiving man.
    â€œThink about the party, would you?” Charmaine asked as she turned her horse about to head for home. “And don’t forget to extend the invitation to your family.”
    Your family. Ash suppressed an unnatural chill as he watched Charmaine Haley ride away from the farm. He never thought of the people he lived with as his family. They were strangers who had been forced upon him, his father’s responsibilities that had become his. When he thought of one day having a family of his own, Verna, Elmo, and Oswald were not