Texas Cinderella (6 page)

Chapter Seven

C
assie 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?

Cassie Lynn began cutting up carrots, holding her peace, giving him time to make up his mind.

“I'll admit,” he said slowly, “I'm not sure how good a nursemaid I'd make to a pair of sick children.” He gave her a speculative look. “If you're sure you and Mrs. Flanagan are okay with me moving in, then I guess I have no real choice but to take you up on your generous offer.”

It sounded as if he still wasn't convinced. Some folks just didn't like to admit they couldn't do it all. “Very sensible of you.”

“But I do have one condition.”

“And what's that?”

“That the kids are my responsibility and I'll help with their care.”

“Good.” Cassie Lynn couldn't stop the happy bubble rising inside her. It would be nice to have some new faces around here—for both her and Mrs. Flanagan. “Just give me a little time to get some things moved around in the attic, and do a bit of sweeping and dusting, and it'll be all ready for you to move in.”

He shook his head. “You have enough to do around here, especially with all of us moving in on you. I can do any rearranging that's needed up there.”

Again she was surprised by his willingness to jump in and help her with her chores. “Very well. But first I need to collect the eggs from the henhouse and get breakfast started. Then get Mrs. Flanagan up and ready to face the day.
Then
we can tackle the attic together.”

He stood. “I can gather the eggs while you take care of breakfast and Mrs. Flanagan. But first I want to look in on the kids.”

Cassie Lynn nodded, figuring he needed to reassure himself that they were okay. “Thank you. Just try not to wake them. The more sleep they get, the better.” She moved toward the cupboard, then looked back at him. “And the newspaper should be on the front porch by the time you collect the eggs, if you don't mind bringing it in.”

With a nod, he moved toward the hall.

She still couldn't get over how eager he was to do his part, no matter that most of this was women's work. Perhaps if her pa and brothers had had more of that attitude, she wouldn't be so dead set against moving back home.

* * *

Thirty minutes later Mrs. Flanagan was seated at one end of the kitchen table, while Cassie Lynn worked on breakfast at the stove. Riley sat at the other end of the table, sipping his second cup of coffee.

Mrs. Flanagan ignored the coffee in front of her as she rested her arms on the sides of her chair. “Cassie Lynn tells me you agreed to let the kids stay here and to move into the attic yourself.”

“Yes, ma'am. And I'm very grateful for the offer. I can pay you the same rate the hotel charges, if that's agreeable.”

The woman stiffened. “Young man, I invited you and those two young'uns to stay here out of the goodness of my heart. It is an insult for you to offer me money as if I were nothing more than an innkeeper.”

Cassie Lynn did her best to hide a grin. No one could do righteous indignation better than Irene Flanagan.

“I meant no disrespect,” Mr. Walker said quickly. “I just—”

“Apology accepted.” Mrs. Flanagan appeared to unbend. “So we're agreed that you all will stay here as my guests and we'll hear no more about payments.”

Apparently considering the matter closed, the widow turned to Cassie Lynn. “I suppose you're okay with cooking and cleaning for our guests.”

Before she could answer, Mr. Walker spoke up. “That won't be necessary, at least not the cleaning part. I can take care of my own cleaning—don't want to make extra work for anyone.” He gave her a boyish grin. “The cooking, on the other hand...”

Cassie Lynn returned his smile. “Don't worry. It's not any more work to cook for five than for four.”

He lifted his coffee cup in salute.

Just then, Noah came padding into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. “Is it time for breakfast yet?”

Mrs. Flanagan gave him a stern look. “And good morning to you, too, young man.”

“Good morning.” Noah didn't appear at all intimidated by her tone. He turned back to Cassie. “Pru's hungry, too. But she says she doesn't feel like eating.” He shrugged. “That don't make no sense to me.”

Cassie Lynn smiled. “I think she means her mouth hurts—Dr. Pratt warned me that might be the case. Don't worry, I have some broth simmering on the stove for her. And as for you, breakfast will be on the table in just a few minutes.”

Mr. Walker stood. “I'll go check in on her.”

“Good idea.” Cassie Lynn moved to the pantry and retrieved a jar. “Why don't you bring her a bowl of applesauce. The broth is not quite ready and this shouldn't be too difficult for her to eat.”

He nodded, then glanced at his nephew. “And you come along, as well. Time to get you out of that nightshirt and into your day clothes.”

* * *

As Riley walked down the hall with Noah, he wondered if he was doing the right thing, moving in here. Not that he'd had much choice. Still, it was going to be difficult for the kids to not start forming relationships with these two women.

Because motherly influences were something they were sorely missing in their lives.

He was glad to find Pru awake now. She'd been asleep when he left last night. “Good morning, kitten. How are you feeling?”

The girl pushed herself into a sitting position, her doll clutched in her arms. “I'm sorry, Uncle Riley.”

Pru's softly uttered apology tugged at something protective and guilt-laden inside Riley.

Had his own distraction and worry made her feel guilty about anything she perceived would cause him trouble? That wasn't a burden he wanted the little girl to feel, especially over something she couldn't help, like this.

He smiled down at her reassuringly. “No need to apologize, Pru. This isn't your fault. Everyone gets sick occasionally.” He drew himself up with a deliberately solemn expression. “Why, one of these days I'll get sick myself and then you'll have to nurse me.”

She gave him the smile he'd hoped for, and he used his free hand to pat her knee through the blanket. “The important thing right now is that we do what we can to get you well.”

Pru nodded. “I'm sure I'll be better soon.” She held up her doll. “Thanks for fetching Bitsy for me.”

From her tone and appearance, Riley could tell she was still feeling down. “Bitsy was lonesome without you.” He lifted the bowl he carried. “I brought you some applesauce. Want to try and eat some?”

Her face brightened somewhat. “Yes, sir.”

Across the room, Noah had already shed his nightshirt and was slipping his arms into the sleeves of a faded blue shirt. “I like it here, Uncle Riley,” he said. “Can we stay?”

The eagerness on the boy's face drove home to Riley again just how much they all hated living in hotel rooms and boardinghouses. Having grown up on a farm, these kids were used to having plenty of room to run around and play out in the open. They missed that freedom and he couldn't blame them. Before he could answer, though, the boy continued to make his case.

“Mrs. Flanagan said it was all right with her.” Noah's voice took on a pleading quality. “They seem like nice ladies and this place is so much better than any ole hotel room. Besides, you said Pru needs some looking after.”

“That's true.”

Noah nodded, then gave Riley an earnest look. “And I promise I won't say anything about Pa or where we came from.”

“I know you won't.” Hopefully, the boy had learned his lesson last time. “Even if we do stay here, it'll only be for a little while, just until Pru gets better. Understand?”

Grinning widely, Noah nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Knowing that Noah didn't truly understand how difficult it would be to go back to their previous life when they left here, Riley stood. “Very well. The ladies have offered to let me sleep upstairs, so I've agreed to stay here, but just until Pru is better.” No point in letting the boy know he'd probably be sick for most of their stay, as well. Time enough when he actually started showing symptoms.

Riley patted his niece's shoulder. “Enjoy your applesauce. Miss Vickers has some broth cooking that you can have later. I'll be back to check on you in a bit.”

He turned to his nephew. “Noah, you can join us in the kitchen as soon as you're dressed.”

Riley paused in the doorway. “I'll leave this open so we can hear you call out if you need anything,” he told Pru.

As he headed back to the kitchen it occurred to him that in less than twenty-four hours, this place had begun to feel like home.

* * *

Once they were finished with breakfast, Cassie Lynn opened the oven to check on the fruit tarts. Pleased with the golden color of the crust, she began carefully transferring them to the counter.

“Those look really good,” Noah said, an appreciative gleam in his eye.

“Thank you.” She set the last of them on the cooling rack. “But I'm afraid they aren't for us. I baked them to sell to the lady who runs the tea shop.”

“Oh.”

Cassie Lynn smiled at his crestfallen expression. “Don't worry, I plan to do some more baking this afternoon. We'll be having pie with our supper tonight.”

She moved to the table and began clearing the dishes.

Mr. Walker immediately stood to help, instructing Noah to do likewise. When the last of the dishes had been transported to the sink, the man rolled up his sleeves. “Do you prefer to wash or dry?”

Cassie Lynn started to wave away his offer, then changed her mind. He likely wanted to contribute and she was becoming accustomed to his unexpected offers to help with the housework. “Wash.”

“While she gets started on that,” Mrs. Flanagan said to Mr. Walker, “you can push my chair into the parlor.” She turned to Noah. “If you will come along, I have something to show you.”