Read Online Cinderfella by Linda Winstead Jones - Free Book Online Page B

listened intently to the soft conversation drifting to her from the back of the store. Something about salt and flour and tobacco, evidently forgotten by Verna on her last visit to town.
    The voices came closer, and they were accompanied by Eula’s soft step and Ash’s heavier footfall. Charmaine directed all her attention to the string she was retying. She needed to tie the string quickly, place her mask in the box with the others, and mutter a quick and gracious farewell to Eula and her customer. Her suddenly clumsy fingers refused to cooperate.
    â€œHere, let me do that,” Eula said as she stepped behind the counter and took the package that was much the worse for wear. The brown paper was crumpled, and the string was in knots. In a flash, Eula had unknotted the string and fastened it securely around the covered mask.
    Charmaine was well aware that Ash stood behind her. He didn’t say a word, she couldn’t hear him breathing or moving, but he was there. She could feel it, as if the air around him was agitated.
    She jumped when a cheerful voice called from the doorway. “My, this charming town has changed since I was here last.”
    The man standing in the doorway wasn’t much taller than she was, and he wasn’t dressed like any farmer or rancher she’d ever seen. His clothes were, in fact, very up to date, very Eastern, from the bowler hat that was perched atop a graying head to the brown checked frock suit to the shiny shoes that were marred with more than a touch of dust. The smile on his face was brilliant as he stepped toward the counter.
    â€œAsh, you must introduce me to these lovely ladies,” the man said as he removed his bowler with a gentlemanly flourish.
    Ash cleared his throat. “Mrs. Eula Markam,” he said softly, “this is Nathan Sweet, an old friend of the family. Mrs. Markam and her husband own this mercantile.”
    Eula nodded and muttered a friendly “How do you do.” In answer, Nathan Sweet bowed deeply. And then he faced Charmaine.
    â€œAnd this is Miss Charmaine Haley,” Ash said, his voice dropping to a lower note.
    â€œMr. Sweet,” Charmaine said as she offered her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
    The little man beamed at her. “The pleasure is all mine. Miss. I swear, Ash, this young woman is every bit as ravishing as your mother, and I never thought I’d hear myself say that about anyone.” His eyes twinkled. “Have you ever given thought, Miss Haley, to stepping upon the stage? You would make a fabulous Juliet.”
    Charmaine felt the heat rising to her face. Blushing! She was much too old to blush at a compliment, no matter how outrageous it might be. “I have no aspirations to the stage, Mr. Sweet.”
    â€œPity,” he said, and he seemed to mean it.
    â€œI must be going,” Charmaine said with a weak smile, nodding first to Eula and then to the gentleman before her. “There are a thousand errands to be taken care of this afternoon. It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Sweet.”
    She wrapped her arms around the box of masks, anxious to escape into the sunlight. A few minutes ago she’d been laughing, but right now she felt uncommonly uncomfortable. No one else seemed to be affected by the change of mood. Eula was smiling brightly, Mr. Sweet was grinning, and Ash . . . well, she hadn’t turned to face Ash, not once.
    â€œGood heavens, Ash, you’re not going to allow this lovely creature to carry this cumbersome load.” Mr. Sweet’s voice was faintly outraged, and still he smiled.
    â€œIt’s not heavy. . . . ” Charmaine began, but before she could finish her sentence Mr. Sweet swept the box from her grasp and deposited it into Ash’s arms.
    â€œIt’s all right, really it is,” Charmaine insisted as she attempted — and failed — to take the box from Ash.
    â€œI’ll get the supplies loaded into the