The Glass Shoe by Kay Hooper Read Free Book Online

well be hostile to everyone because of her normal temperament, but somehow he didn't think so.
    Short of ordering him off the place, the lady had done her level best to get rid of him, and he wanted to know why. It was partly simple curiosity, but he was also all too aware of the fact that he was quite definitely attracted to that surly redheaded spitfire.
    And he had caught more than one glimpse of a sense of humor in her, which appealed to him.
    He'd have a few days before Cyrus Fortune arrived, according to the message he had gotten just before he left Boston, so there was time to find out what made Amanda Trask tick.
    He found his room easily enough, and looked around with wry eyes. It looked fairly comfortable, he supposed, but it was certainly bare. The walls had been freshly painted, he could smell it, and there were absolutely no decorations. A double bed with a faded plaid spread, a nightstand with a single lamp, a dresser, and a chest made up the plain and somewhat battered furniture. A newly refinished hardwood floor sported two worn Navaho rugs, the tiny closet held half a dozen wire hangers, and the bathroom was missing a shower curtain.
    It was also definitely chilly in both rooms.
    He was not, Ryder decided, going to complain. About anything. He refused to give Miss Trask the satisfaction. He unpacked methodically and put his things away. He left only one item out, and eyed it as he changed into jeans and a bulky sweater.
    What on earth had possessed him to bring the damned shoe along? He couldn't remember packing it, but wasn't surprised that he had. Nobody had ever defined an obsession as something rational, after all. He placed the shoe on the shelf inside the closet and shut the door firmly.
    Enough of that. He was too far from Boston to continue his search for Cinderella even if he had a clue as to what steps he could take to find her. And, truth to tell, he realized with a faintly guilty feeling that his first encounter with Amanda Trask had pushed both fairy tales and business to the back of his mind.
    Puzzling over his own apparently fickle nature, he left his room and went downstairs. The second floor landing provided a view down into the entrance hall, and he paused there as he heard voices from below. He leaned somewhat cautiously over the banister, and saw that Amanda was engaged in talking to another lady. Or, rather, she was engaged in being talked at.
    The other lady was small, spare, and silver-haired. She appeared to be well past sixty. Beyond that rough estimate Ryder found it impossible to guess her age. She was in faded jeans and wore a thick fleece-lined jacket with scuffed western boots on her small feet. And she talked a mile a minute.
    Amanda was leaning against the high counter as if she needed its support. Nemo was sitting at her side, and she petted the dog's massive head in a rhythmic manner as she listened to the older lady's rapid voice.
    "They were dreadful people, my dear, just dreadful. Weren't willing to spend a dime on the place, and of course that's idiotic. I was so pleased when the new owner bought it and started fixing things up right away."
    "Miss Patterson," Amanda said in the firm tone of someone who'd been trying to get a word in.
    Helen Patterson laughed. "Oh, they call me Miss Nell around here, child. And you're Amanda? Such a lovely name. It means 'worthy of love,' you know. Or 'beloved.' It depends on which book you're looking it up in."
    There was a faint frown between Amanda's delicate brows, and a somewhat dazed look in her eyes. Ryder felt a flicker of amusement as he realized that in "Miss Nell" Amanda had met her match.
    Miss Nell took a few brisk steps to the doorway of the den and peered in, her expression birdlike. "Oh, good, you've left it the way it was. This was my favorite room, you see, and I feel a bit sentimental about it. But where's the mantel, child?"
    Amanda blinked. "The—? Oh. I'm having a new one made, Miss Nell."
    "But you won't change the