Love Draws Near Page 13

  “You can wake me with a kiss every morning for the rest of our lives.”

  “Does that mean you’ll marry me?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes twinkled. “I’m sure you already knew my answer.”

  He chuckled. “I had high hopes.” He tilted the cup of broth. “Finish this and get well. I can’t wait to make you mine.”

  11

  Almost three months to the day she was shot, Tina stood in the back room of the library and stared out the window. Outside, the green of late summer filled the park. The sun sparkled off the lake. Two swans, one white and one black, glided across the surface. She couldn’t imagine a more perfect day for her wedding.

  The red hats had chosen the venue, much to Tina’s delight. Iris was standing up for her, and her husband Brock was standing up with David.

  Tina stared in the full length mirror brought in for her use. The strapless, form fitting wedding dress skimmed her chest and hips, fanning out into a short train. A cathedral veil with a pearl headband covered her blond hair. She’d chosen to wear her hair down, a few strands curled around her face.

  Butterflies danced in her stomach, and she placed a hand over her midsection in an attempt to settle them. She took deep breaths.

  “Are you feeling sick?” Betty entered the room, her eyes widening. “Oh, my dear, you’re gorgeous.”

  “I’m fine. Just a little nervous.” Her lips trembled.

  “Don’t be.” Betty patted her shoulder. “My son will be speechless when he sets eyes on you.”

  “I don’t know anything about being a wife. David had one successful marriage. What if I can’t compete?”

  “You don’t have to. Just love him and the boys. That’s all you need to do.”

  Tina nodded. “I can do that.”

  “Hey, mom!” Mark and Luke bounded into the room. “Dad said we could call you that unless we’re at school. Then, we have to call you Mrs. Larson.”

  Mrs. Larson. She loved the sound of that. “Are you two ready to give me away?”

  “What?” Luke frowned.

  “I thought we were walking you down the aisle,” Mark said, crossing his arms.

  “That’s what that means, silly goose.” Betty licked her fingers and slicked back his hair.

  “Gross.” Mark scowled.

  Tina crooked her arms. “Let’s go make me your mother.”

  The boys each grabbed one of her arms and dragged, rather than walking with her, to the sidewalk that would lead them to the lake. They obviously took the pastor’s advice, against being late, to heart.

  “Boys, I can’t run in this dress. You’ll have to go slow.” Tina pulled the front of the veil over her face.

  “If I were you, I’d run,” Luke said. “Some other ladies like the way Dad looks in his tux. I heard them say so.”

  Tina laughed, her anxiety floating away on the clouds. “Then we’d best get started.”

  She peered over an evergreen bush. Twelve red hats shined like beacons among the guests.

  “I’m here.” Iris rushed toward them. “I’m so sorry. Here I am, your maid-of-honor, and I was almost late.” She clutched her stomach. “I’ve been ill in the mornings.” She grinned.

  Tina glanced at her flat stomach. “Are you pregnant?”

  Iris nodded.

  “That’s great!” Tina wrapped her in a hug. “Let’s get me married so I can get pregnant right away. Your baby will need a playmate.”

  Iris laughed. “Then what are we waiting for?” She nodded for the disc jockey to play the wedding march. With a wink at Tina, she moved slowly down the aisle.

  Tina stepped from behind the bush and caught her first glimpse of her groom. Resplendent in a black tux with a white vest and tie, he took her breath away. She smiled, and took her first step toward him. This was it. The moment she had dreamed of.

  The boys tiptoed beside her, taking their job very seriously, and placed her hand in David’s. He shook each of their hands, then turned to Tina.

  “Dearly Beloved …” the pastor said the words that would make them husband and wife.

  The End

  Don’t miss these other two Red Hat Romances

  Finally

  Surprisingly

  Hillbilly Cinderella

  By Cynthia Hickey

  Copyright 2017

  Written by: Cynthia Hickey

  Published by: Winged Publications

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  No part of this book may be copied or distributed without the author’s consent.

  All Rights Reserved

  1

  Cindy Lou Hopkins stood on the mountain overlook and tossed her father’s ashes into the wind. He’d been gone for a while, almost a year, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to let him go. When the urn was empty, she set it next to the largest rock in the area and headed home, such as it was.

  Life wasn’t exactly…pleasant with her stepmother, Geneva, and her stepsisters, Ana and Natalie. They resented everything Cindy did. Especially the fact she stood to inherit the ranch on her twenty-fifth birthday. Geneva said she’d contest the will. Well, let her try.

  Cindy stooped and slid between the strands of barbed wire surrounding her neighbor’s pasture. Normally, she slipped through with no problem. Today, her hair tangled around the barbs and held her fast.

  Great. Now what? She grabbed her hair close to her scalp and pulled. Nope, not going to let go.

  A deep-throated chuckle caused her to freeze. “Need help?”

  Mercy, Lord, please don’t let the wind pick up and blow up her skirt. Her eyes traveled from scuffed cowboy boots to a shiny belt buckle and stopped. “Yes, please.”

  Gentle hands freed her, leaving a few strands behind. “There you go.” He thrust out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lance Moore, grandson of Leroy Moore. You’re trespassing.”

  “Oh, but I always—” Her gaze met the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. A black cowboy hat shaded a face so handsome it had to be a sin. A dimple winked at the corner of his mouth as he tried not to smile. Of course one of the most embarrassing things to happen to her had to have occurred in front of a prince! “I’m Cindy Hopkins. Your neighbor.”

  “Need a ride. I’ve got Buster. He can seat two.”

  She glanced at the giant of a black horse. “No, thank you, I’m wearing a—”

  Before she knew it, he’d lifted her and swung her onto the back of the horse, then climbed on behind her. Strong arms reached around her and grasped the reins. “I know the Hopkins place.” With a flick of the reins, the massive beast under her moved forward.

  She gasped and grabbed the thing in front of her. Saddle horn? Was that what someone had once called it? Gracious, but she was afraid of horses. They were beautiful to look at and silky to the touch, but to actually ride one…the ground seemed a mile away.

  “Relax, I don’t bite.” Lance laughed and urged the horse to go faster.

  Cindy squeaked.

  His left arm wrapped around her waist and held her secure against him.

  She couldn’t breathe. Oh, this was what dreams were made of. As they neared her two-story clapboard house, she glanced back. “You can let me off here. I’ve chores in the barn.” Plus, if she showed up riding with Prince Charming, her sisters would nag her for details.

  He lowered her to the ground, touched the brim of his hat like a cowboy in a western movie, and winked. “See you around, Cinderella.”

  She sighed. Normally she hated the fairy tale nickname, but coming from his lips, it sounded like music.

  ~

  “Who in the world is that?” Ana stepped out of the barn, a pail of milk splashing over her leg.

  “Our neighbor’s grandson.” Cindy took the pail. “Sorry I’m late. I got stuck in a fence.”

  “Hmm
m.” She didn’t appear to be listening. “If that’s Lance Moore, all the girls in the county are talking. He’s returned from abroad and word is he’s looking for a wife.” She tossed her red curls. “I think I’m going to marry him.” She flounced toward the house, tossing over her shoulder, “Ma’s fit to be tied. I think you should hurry and get supper started.”

  “Ugh.” No more dreaming that day. Cindy made a mad dash for the house, entering through the back door and flung open the refrigerator.

  “Well, it’s about time.” Geneva stepped from the pantry. “Had you forgotten we’re having important guests tonight? The widower Moore and his grandson are joining us.” She glanced at the mother of pearl watch on her wrist. “You have exactly two hours to get supper prepared, yourself cleaned up and the house put to rights. You don’t get to live here free of charge, you know.” With a lift of her straight nose, she marched from the kitchen.

  Six more months and the house and land would be Cindy’s anyway. She groaned and took stock of what she could possibly throw together. There was some catfish she’d caught the day before. Hush puppies wouldn’t take too long, add in some spinach and she’d have a filling meal fit for anyone.

  She rushed around the house, swishing a feather duster here and there, straightening some magazines, uncurling a corner of the rug, then hurried upstairs. She changed into a pretty yellow sundress and twisted her hair into a messy bun. A swipe of mascara, a slither of lip-gloss and back to the kitchen she went to don an apron.

  Minutes before their guests arrived, she set their finest dishes on the old farm table and stood back to survey her work. Mighty fine, if she did say so herself.

  “Fried fish?” Geneva pursed her lips. “You know how I hate fish.”

  Cindy’s spirits sank. “It’s all we had plenty of. I haven’t gone shopping.”

  “If you didn’t spend so much time running around these hills, you’d have done so. There’s no help for it now.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Geneva smoothed her hair. “Go answer the door.”

  Cindy took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face, and yanked open the door. “Welcome…” her smile faded and her eyes widened. “It’s you.”

  ~

  “Hello, Cinderella.” Lance removed his hat. “Fancy seeing you again.”

  “You two have met? Oh, my manners. I’m Mrs. Hopkins, but please, call me Geneva.”

  Lance’s grandfather strode forward. “Name’s John. This strapping lad is my grandson, Lance.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Lance said. “I gave Cindy a ride home this afternoon.”

  The pretty gal in the yellow dress paled, her wide-eyed gaze meeting the stern one of Mrs. Hopkins. He hoped he hadn’t got her into trouble. “I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries, ma’am, but we were heading in the same direction.”

  “That’s perfectly fine. Let me introduce you to my daughters.” She smiled and motioned toward a tall, skinny, freckled red head and a slightly plump blond whose vacant expression reminded Lance a bit of the moon. “This is Ana and Natalie. You’ve already met the other one.”

  Cindy’s face went from pale to pink in the blink of an eye. “Supper’s ready. Please, let me take your hats.”

  Lance and his grandfather handed Cindy their hats, then followed her mother into the dining room. “Smells wonderful. Is that catfish? I love catfish.”

  Mrs. Hopkins grinned. “Please sit there. Girls, you may each take a seat on either side of our guest.”

  Ana and Natalie rushed to sit on each side of Lance. Grandfather took the seat at the end, opposite Mrs. Hopkins. Cindy sat alone across from Lance.

  “This is silly,” he said, getting up. “There’s three of us on this side and only one across.” He picked up his chair and moved it next to Cindy.

  She ducked her head, but not before he saw the tease of a smile on her lips.

  Mrs. Hopkins blue eyes hardened above her smile. “How silly of me. Of course that makes more sense. Coffee, Mr. Moore?”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Grandpa said.

  Cindy jumped up to pour his coffee.

  When she’d resumed his seat, Grandpa held out his hands to those on each side of him. “Shall I say the blessing?”

  Mrs. Hopkins stiffened. “Of course.”

  He blessed the food and those who had prepared it, then reached for the platter of fish. “I, too, love me some fresh caught catfish. Who brought this in?”

  “I did.” Cindy squared her shoulders.

  “Mighty fine, young gal. Did you cook it, too?”

  She nodded.

  “Love me a woman that can cook.”

  “Mama cooks…some,” Natalie said. “But mostly, she makes Cindy do it. Ouch. Mama?” She bent and rubbed her leg.

  “How clumsy of me.”

  Lance hid a grin behind his napkin. If Mrs. Hopkins thought to catch Grandpa’s eye, she’d have to do a bit more than comb her hair and wear a fine smelling perfume. Grandpa likes to eat, liked a clean house, and liked to read his newspaper in peace of a morning. Lance had a strong suspicion most of the work around the Hopkins farm was done by Cindy rather than Mrs. Hopkins.

  After a wonderful meal, Lance was ushered outside with Ana and Natalie while Mrs. Hopkins, most likely Cindy, cleaned up. Grandpa retired to the back porch to smoke his after dinner cigar. The last thing Lance wanted to do was entertain the gabby redhead and the silent blond.

  “Sit here, Lance.” Ana patted the spot next to her on the porch swing.

  “No, here.” Natalie pointed to a rocker.

  “I’ll stand, ladies, thanks.” He leaned against the porch railing and stared at the lightning bugs blinking across the grass.

  “You sure are handsome,” Natalie said. “Best thing I’ve seen in this valley in a long time.”

  “Thanks.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then forced a smile as he turned around. “Have you lived here long?”

  “Our mama married Mr. Hopkins about ten years ago. He died recently.”

  “So, Cindy isn’t your biological sister?”

  “No,” Ana said.

  That explained a lot in regards to the way Mrs. Hopkins treated Cindy, but didn’t excuse the behavior. “Does Cindy go for a walk every day?”

  “Yes, down by the creek every day after lunch.” Natalie started rocking. “Mama gets awful mad, ‘cause Cindy is late to supper.”

  Lance grinned. He’d make it a point to ride by the creek every day. He’d liked the way Cindy had felt when he wrapped his arms around her.

  Ana tilted her head. “Why all the questions about our stepsister? Don’t you like us best?”

  “I reckon I like you well enough.” He breathed a sigh of relief when Grandpa stepped onto the porch.

  “There’s pie, son. Come on in.”

  Lance couldn’t get in the house fast enough, nor did the two sisters allow much space behind him as he entered. When Lance headed for the table, he was informed by their hostess that dessert was served in the parlor. Seconds later, he found himself sandwiched between Ana and Natalie with a china plate containing a slice of apple pie balanced on his knee.

  “Coffee?” Ana asked.

  “Ice cream?” Natalie added.

  “No, thank you.” Since it meant Cindy would most likely have to fetch it and she’d just sat down.

  He met her gaze across the room and winked.

  Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink.

  Yep, he’d make sure to take a ride by the creek tomorrow.

  2

  Cindy scrubbed the grout between the shower tiles, then stepped from the tub and dried off her bare feet. Finally, she could take a book to the creek and grab a little time for herself. Geneva had given her one chore after another and it was well past lunchtime.

  Making sure no one was around, she grabbed a slice of bread she’d baked that morning, cut off a hunk of cheese, added an apple and her book and raced out the back door and across the pasture, barely taking the time to slip
her feet into her shoes. She only had a couple of hours before she needed to cook supper.

  Dashing through tall grass and leaping over rocks and fallen trees always made her feel free and like a child. Twenty-four was a woman grown, but Cindy never wanted to act like her stepmother. All stiff and fussy.

  She found her favorite log beside the creek, plopped down on the moss growing beside it, leaned back and opened her book. A romantic suspense from a best-selling author. Geneva thought reading a frivolous pastime, but Cindy couldn’t imagine not spending part of each day in the pages of a good story.

  Soon, only the sounds of the gurgling creek, birds in the trees, and the occasional crunch of her apple when Cindy took a bite could be heard. All was right in her world.

  A twig snapped behind her.

  She grabbed a thick stick and stood, ready to fight off whatever was coming.

  “Whoa” Lance stepped from the trees. “Lunch?” He held up a wicker basket.

  She narrowed her eyes. “How did you know I was here?”

  “Are you aware of how much your sisters talk about you?” He grinned, a dimple winking in his cheek.

  Her heart raced. “You scared me.”

  He glanced down at her book. “No wonder, reading a book about serial killers.”

  “You’ve read it?”

  He shook his head. “I prefer non-romantic thriller type books. So, are you hungry?”

  “I had an apple.” Why was she being so obstinate? She’d never talked to such a good-looking man before and seemed to have lost her manners. Lance seemed to enjoy her company. Why shouldn’t she enjoy his. “Yes, I am.” She smiled.

  “Great.” He sat next to the log and opened the basket. “Our cook, Lucy, made some sandwiches and there’s strawberries and cream, plus fresh squeezed lemonade.”

  How wonderful to eat something she didn’t have to cook. “Looks delicious. Thank you.”

  “For the first time in my life, I wish I’d prepared this meal myself.”

  She tilted her head, reaching for a strawberry. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I’m spoiled. I’ve never prepared a meal for myself. Sure, I’ve roped a cow, branded a bull, herded cattle, but I’ve never cooked a meal or cleaned my own clothes. We’ve always had hired help. Heck, if I didn’t want to work with the cattle, I wouldn’t even have to do that.” He shook his head. “You, now you, could probably do all that and more.”