Her Cinderella Heart

Was he here to join the Easter worship service? Cassie took a step toward him. “Can I help you? We have a sunrise worship—”

The helmet came off, and a mass of silver hair sprang free. The man glanced over his shoulder, showing her his profile. A strong nose, defined mouth and firm chin. Cassie felt the breath swoosh out of her. “Peter?”

“Am I late?”

She blinked like a starstruck schoolgirl, and was instantly glad she’d had her hair stylishly cut the day before. “A bit. Did you have trouble finding the park?”

“No. Pastor Michael sent me directions. I’m sorry I’m late, but yesterday I couldn’t leave work before midnight. Shall we go?”

What kind of business kept him until midnight? she wondered.

Peter took her elbow as they climbed the dirt path. For a few moments, Cassie imagined he did so because he thought her worthy of protection. That she was his to cherish. She was a little old to let herself go nutty over so inconsequential a touch.

But it was enough to dream on.

RUTH SCOFIELD

became serious about writing after she’d raised her children. Until then, she’d concentrated her life on being a June Cleaver–type wife and mother, spent years as a Bible student and teacher for teens and young adults, and led a weekly women’s prayer group. When she’d made a final wedding dress and her last child had left the nest, she declared to one and all that it was her turn to activate a dream. Thankfully, her husband applauded her decision.

Ruth’s first book was published in 1993 just a month after her return to her native Missouri after years in the East. She often sets her novels in Missouri, where there are lakes and hills aplenty, and as many stories and history as people. She eagerly expects to write at least two dozen more novels.

Her Cinderella Heart

Ruth Scofield

MILLS & BOON

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For God so loved the world that He gave His only son that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.

—John 3:16

Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.

—Galatians 6:2

To my friend, Ruth M., who makes friends everywhere she goes. And loves them all.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Why did she have to be so clumsy? She always made a spectacle of herself when she was nervous…and new situations always made her edgy.

Cassie Manning hurriedly wiped up the coffee spill under the thirty-gallon pot. She’d bumped the spigot, causing hot coffee to spatter everywhere before she’d managed to shut it off.

“Sorry,” she muttered over her shoulder. The minister, Michael Faraday, affectionately known to the group as Pastor Mike, and that sleek woman who looked like the well-known model she’d been, Samantha something, stood in the church’s kitchen doorway chatting. They glanced her way, but thankfully ignored the accident, intent on their conversation.

Why couldn’t she just do something graceful for a change instead of her usual bumbling reactions when meeting new people? Every new situation doesn’t have to be a trial by fire, does it, Lord?

Although her father would’ve said she usually made it one. He often said she must have been a changeling because neither he nor her mother had been so awkward. Nor plain, either.

Cassie shoved those negative thoughts aside. This was to be a new phase in her life. One for which she’d longed. New Beginnings, a ministry in the Blue River Valley Community Church, located in western Missouri, was exactly what she needed, with its programs on how to redirect one’s life after the age of forty, and social gatherings.

Social gatherings…. The very description implied a promise that life after the first flush of youth had passed could still hold wonder and excitement.

Well, she was trying, wasn’t she? She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves.

“Nothing to worry about, Cassie,” Pam Lawson, a small, compact blonde standing at Cassie’s side, remarked as she arranged cups and set out napkins. “That’s a touchy spigot and annoys us all.”

Cassie’s spirits lifted. The coffee spill hadn’t been entirely her fault. She grinned her thanks. She had one friend at least. “Thanks.”

Pastor Mike scanned his watch, his dark lashes brushing his high cheekbones for a second before glancing their way. Although he wore a wedding ring, Cassie wondered about the status of his marriage. His wife never made an appearance at New Beginnings and Michael didn’t speak of her—only his kids. She’d also overheard something the last time she was here—something negative.

Poor man. Being in the ministry was no guarantee of a happy marriage. Perhaps he needed the prayers of this group as much as the members needed his leadership, she mused. Whatever his personal problems, he’d spoken with a fine authority when he quoted Paul for this evening’s scripture, and seemed to draw sustenance from it.

“Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

That was what Cassie was doing, pressing onward with her life. Finding new directions to what she wanted to do before her next birthday. That was what New Beginnings was all about, wasn’t it? To find out what she could do with the rest of her life?

She hated thinking of her next birthday. Imagine! Next month she’d be forty years old and she’d never left home, never traveled farther than St. Louis and Branson, never had a steady boyfriend, never…

It wasn’t too late, she reminded herself. She still had half her life to live, and she’d make the most of it! She just hadn’t found the right man. That wasn’t a crime, was it?

“Coconut cake and lemon pie,” Cassie called to the group at large, urging them to come and help themselves. She hated to see the evening end, and found herself thinking about the people she met here. Her thirty-minute drive home gave her a lot of time to think about the evening. But like everyone, she had a job to face the next morning—in her case, twenty-eight fifth-graders—so she was grateful she’d be home before ten-thirty.

But it had nothing to do with who was waiting. Or who wasn’t.

Her father, who’d been an invalid in a wheelchair, had died last year. So had the many demands his helplessness had made on her. She was at last free to do whatever she wanted, go anywhere she wanted, do anything she wanted. It made her feel like jumping up and down, like her fifth-graders.

That was one of the main reasons she had joined New Beginnings. She was tired of imagining drifting into old age alone.

She smiled brightly into the crowd.

Most of the nearly fifty people stood or sat in little clusters, chatting. Cassie longed to be a part of one of those clusters, but couldn’t bring herself to break into one. It would be rude. After she felt more comfortable with these near strangers, then she could talk to them, she thought as she smiled. Someone might actually be interested in hearing about her day, about teaching fifth-graders. A male someone, perhaps?

But other than Pam’s thanks, and several nods of appreciation for her service, no one seemed to notice her enough to invite her to join them.

Well, it would take time. Shyness wasn’t a crime, after all, but she’d have to overcome it.

With a firm determination, she refilled her carafe and started the rounds again. Lovely Samantha, a former model, now stood in conversation against the wall. Why couldn’t she be that beautiful? Poised? Witty?

You might as well come to terms with yourself, Cassandra. The only beauty you’ll ever have is in your service to others and your obedient character….

Cassie’s jaw went firm. She had to banish her father’s sour voice from her head. He’d died nearly five months ago, but his hurtful opinions sometimes still invaded her thoughts.

Pastor Mike sat with another stranger, his cup sitting on the floor beside him. He often expressed himself with his hands, she’d noticed. Now he spread his fingers wide as though holding something tangible.

She could see only the back of the stranger’s head, but the man’s smoothly brushed hair was a lovely shade of polished silver. Silver hair….

Well, shy or not, this was the only way she knew to meet people. She headed their way, the coffee carafe in one hand and a bowl of mints in another.

Just as Cassie reached the two men, Lori Jenkens swooped past her to take a chair beside the pastor, immediately engaging him in conversation with all her considerable charm on display. But she cast flirtatious glances toward the silver-haired gentleman.

His silver mane was brushed away from his wide-set eyes like a magazine cover model, his straight nose matching his chin for strength. He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

Pastor Mike cast her a questioning gaze, and Cassie yanked her stare from the stranger’s features. She swallowed hard, murmuring, “More coffee?” and then nearly choked while swallowing and talking at the same time.

“No thanks, Cassie,” Mike answered with a smile. “I’m trying to cut down on caffeine, but I’ll take some of those.”

Cassie waved the dish of mints toward him. It wavered wildly in the air for a split second. Luckily, Pastor Mike grasped the dish in a firm hold.

“I’ll take some,” Lori said, lifting her mug. But her gaze remained fixed on the stranger. A seductive smile edged her lips.

“Mints?” Cassie asked, her mind a near blank.

“Coffee, please. Hi,” Lori murmured in a throaty voice to the stranger. “I’m Lori. You’re new to this group, aren’t you?”

Lori wore a soft spring blouse and skirt, each following her form with loose, fluid lines. Elegant, Cassie thought in admiration as she poured. Her own figure and nondescript brown hair never excited anything beyond “that’s nice” from her fellow teachers, and as for her dress, the most promising description she could ever hope for was “neat and tidy.”

Cassie looked down at herself. The new skirt and blouse in shades of tan and brown were at best…serviceable.

Lori’s maneuver had been fluid, too. Cassie earnestly wished she could do that. She’d have to practice that in front of a mirror.

She mentally shook herself and donned her calm teacher facade, filled Lori’s cup, then turned to the silver-haired man. “How about you?”

“Sure. Thanks,” he replied, throwing her a quick, uninterested glance.

At least he’d looked at her. Why would she think he’d even look at her with interest?

Why had she worn her hair in a ponytail tonight? It looked better down about her face.

Why hadn’t she freshened her lipstick? She needed a new shade, she thought. She’d go shopping tomorrow after school.

His eyes were the blue of a bright summer sky, and his lashes were long and straight—just like a movie star. In fact, he was handsomer than any celebrity, she thought. He’d been out in the sun recently, too—his tan made his eyes that much more striking.

“This is Peter,” Pastor Mike said, making quick introductions. “Peter Scott. And this is Lori Jenkens and Cassie Manning.”

“Hello,” Peter answered, his voice sounding as deep as Longview Lake. Then he addressed Lori. “Yes, this is my first visit to New Beginnings.”

Cassie shivered. That voice… How could it be so like music from a bass fiddle?

“Hi,” Cassie managed to squeak out as she reached for Peter’s cup.

Someone moved behind their circle, and Peter shifted his weight to face Lori more squarely, listening as she chatted. Cassie was joggled. Coffee suddenly sloshed out of the pot and splattered beyond the mug, hitting Peter.

“Ugh.” Peter smothered a groan and leapt up, bumping Cassie’s arm. She dropped the mug. More coffee spilled. Lori and Pastor Mike scooted backward, out of harm’s way.

“Oh! Oh, no…I’m so sorry,” Cassie muttered, her face flushing, her free hand covering her mouth. Peter began shaking his trousers loosely to keep the fabric from his skin. “Oh, I’ve ruined your suit!”

It looked expensive. What if the pants couldn’t be cleaned properly? Coffee stains were hard to remove.

Cassie felt helpless. How badly had he been burned? She wanted to assist him, but she hadn’t even a napkin to offer.

“We’ve had a spill over here,” Lori called to Pam in a loud voice, brushing at her skirt. Cassie felt her flush deepen and tried to ignore Lori’s accusing stare.

“Are you all right?” Cassie asked Peter. She reached out to him, but then dropped her hand. What could she do? “Do you—are you burned?”

“I’m fine. Really.”

Pam hurried their way with a damp cloth and a roll of paper towels. Cassie exchanged the coffeepot for the towels. She yanked one free and handed it to him.

“I’m really sorry.” She felt like a dolt. Her father was right—she couldn’t do much without disaster happening…. But that was nonsense. Her fifth-graders sometimes had accidents, and she always managed to remain calm throughout!

“I can get you some ice if you need it to relieve the pain—” she found herself staring at his thigh “—um…where the hot coffee burned.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He brushed at his pants, although Cassie thought it futile at that point. “I’ll live. But I lost my coffee. Suppose I can get another cup?”

“Yes. Of course. Just as soon as I get this taken care of.” She dropped to her knees, wiping the tiled floor. She bit her lip in frustration.

“At least let me pay for your cleaning,” she said, staring at his shoes. They were a good brand. Very well made. But it looked as if he could stand to buy a new pair, though.

One of the men arrived with a mop, teasing her about providing him with exercise.

“Oh, yes, that was my very intention,” she replied lightly, making an effort to rise to the tease. “That and making a pest of myself to Peter, here.”

“Don’t be silly.” Peter took Cassie’s elbow and lifted her to stand. His lips parted in a smile, showing even white teeth, enticing her heart to do another little skip. “I’m not hurt and the suit needed a cleaning anyway. If I’d known how informal New Beginnings is—” he glanced around the room at the many who wore jeans and sandals or sneakers “—I’d have worn my jeans, too.”

“There’s always next week, I suppose,” Cassie offered with a hopeful tone. She glanced up at him, her heart beating a quickened beat.

“Yes, there’s always next time I’m in town.” The corner of his mouth edged a little wider, inviting Cassie to return a smile of her own. She felt her mouth widen. She could almost get lost in those summer-sky eyes.

Honestly, if she was imagining this man, or dreaming, she’d hide her head under a pillow from now until next year. She didn’t want to wake.

Lori regained Peter’s attention, and Cassie reluctantly moved away with a hidden sigh, but a lighter heart. Honestly, she had no desire to seem like an aging admirer—although with his looks, she could certainly fall into that slot. Peter could definitely qualify for adoration.

From out of town, was he? She wished she’d asked where he was from and if he was in town often.

Surreptitiously, she glanced over her shoulder. Once again she saw only the back of his head.

“An outdoor Easter sunrise service sounds wonderful to me,” Cassie heard Pam say to the women clearing up. “I’m a morning person anyway, and if we have a sunrise service, then I can take my boys to see both their paternal grandparents and my mother without adding to an already crowded afternoon.”

“What’s this?” Cassie asked, wondering how Pam managed. Pam had both parents and two sons to fill her days. Yet her new friend couldn’t have it all that easy. Pamela had lost her husband a couple of years ago. “Where?”

“Pastor Mike has secured River Bluff Park for Easter Sunday morning,” Pam responded. “Providing the weather cooperates, we’ll gather on the bluff just as the sun comes up. With the river below, that should be quite a sight.”

“How exciting. I’ve never attended a sunrise service.”

At the kitchen sink, Cassie turned on the tap and rinsed out the dripping cloth, thinking about the new prospect. Easter was only two weeks off.

The promise of rejoicing the Lord’s victory over sin in such a wonderful outdoor setting filled Cassie with a sense of awe. In past years she’d been too confined by her father’s dictates to try any church service other than their usual one. He hadn’t liked his routine disturbed, and he didn’t sanction any church but the one they’d attended all her life. Attendance at the usual Easter service held at a decent hour of the morning was all the Lord required of anyone, he would say.

Grumpy as he sometimes was, Cassie missed her father. He was the last of her family. There wasn’t a thing wrong with the church her parents had preferred, but this year she’d make her own choices.

“The only thing we’ll have to watch is the parking,” Pam said. “Since the park is small, there’s only a gravel clearing. We should probably organize a car pool.”

“I haven’t been to the park since I was a kid, so I don’t know what’s there. But I can help with that,” Cassie offered. “What else do we need for it? Do we need to carry folding chairs? My car can carry a few.”

“Each of us should bring our own lawn chairs, I guess,” Pamela replied. “But I can stick an extra one or two in my van for anyone who needs one.”

“Don’t worry too much about chairs, ladies,” Mike said, coming into the kitchen with paper plates to throw away. “I’ll get some of the men to haul chairs. But we’ll need some camp lights to light the drive since people will come in while it’s still dark.”

“Oh, yes. I hadn’t thought of that,” Cassie said, wiping down a counter. “And if I recall rightly, that’s quite a hill up to the bluff from the parking lot, so we may need some strong arms to assist the older church members along the climb.”

“That’s right,” Pastor Mike added.

“I can do that. I don’t mind helping older people,” Cassie said. The idea of the outdoor service sounded more exciting every moment. “Is there anything else to be done in preparation?”

“It’s kind of you to offer, Cassie,” the minister said. “We’ll certainly let you know.”

“Pastor Mike.” Peter stood in the doorway. “I must be off. I appreciate—” he broke off, his expression closing as he realized everyone was listening. “Thanks for your help and I’ll be in touch.”

“Sure, Peter,” Pastor Mike responded. “No problem at all. Hey, I’ll walk you out.”

“Nice meeting you, ladies.” Peter gave a generic nod of goodbye. Then he directed his teasing gaze toward Cassie and did a very bad Bogart imitation. “You still owe me a cup of coffee, sweetheart. With cream.”

Cassie chuckled along with the others while her face went red. She could kick herself. She’d totally forgotten the coffee. “Um, anytime. You just come on along to the sunrise service on Easter Sunday and I’ll buy you coffee and breakfast afterward.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

His smile flashed, sending her heart tumbling, and then he and Pastor Mike were gone.

“Wow, Cassie.” Pam nearly chortled as she spoke. “I think you just made a date with that new guy right under Lori’s nose.”

“I can’t believe I did,” Cassie muttered, staring at the empty doorway. “I never do things like that. I’m usually too shy. Honestly, it just slipped out.”

“Well, there wasn’t anything mousy about that exchange,” Pam insisted.

Cassie spent the next few minutes glowing. Could he be the man of her dreams?

She’d stopped dreaming of such foolish things when she’d entered her thirties, still living at home while taking care of her aging parents.

She sighed. Over the years, when all her women teacher friends talked of their boyfriends or husbands, she’d come to hate their pitying and snide secretive stares. Nearly forty and never been married….

She wasn’t that unattractive. She’d dated a few men, but her problems at home made her less than desirable. She met very few men in her day-to-day job, also. And she just wasn’t the type of woman to meet men in bars.

How likely was it that Peter would come again to New Beginnings?

No, she wouldn’t count on seeing him again. Like Lori, he had a cosmopolitan air about him, as if he ran in far more sophisticated circles than the people that came to New Beginnings.

And she was about as unsophisticated as you could get, even for these parts.

No, she shouldn’t really expect to see Peter again. Most likely, his parting words were only meant to make her feel better about her clumsiness.

Yet she knew, as she later entered her empty, silent house and climbed the stairs to the back bedroom she’d occupied all of her near forty years, that she’d dream of him tonight.

Peter…with the summer-sky eyes…

Chapter Two

Peter Scott Tilford flew out of the Lee’s Summit airport in western Missouri at seven the next morning in his small private jet. The airport was a little small for a jet, but he’d managed. Seated beside him was his pilot, Jackson, a man who could keep his thoughts to himself and who never interfered with Peter’s plans.

He’d contact his office as soon as he crossed the Appalachians, Peter thought. He’d been out of touch with his staff for three days and they’d be half frantic. No one knew where he was except his personal assistant, Tony Swartz, who was sworn to secrecy.

That was the way he’d wanted it. This was a personal matter. Very personal. News coverage and gossip about his current activities was the last thing he needed splashed all over hungry tabloid press.

He felt jubilant. After all these years, he’d hit pay dirt. Now he had to make contact.

The plane climbed to cruising altitude and Peter settled back. He’d been fortunate about not being recognized. He’d keep it that way for as long as possible, but it would take some juggling. Someone would recognize him eventually.

Private, easy, unhurried time—that was what he needed. He didn’t want to scare Eric away. But in Peter’s world, privacy was a highly prized commodity. Could he get it?

He’d have to carve it out carefully, but he’d do it. Take time to talk with Eric, to know the man he was sure—this side of a DNA test—was his younger brother. He wanted to do that without any outside pressures. He wanted more than five or ten minutes to become acquainted with the only remaining living person that he knew was a blood relative.

Did Eric want to know him? Be friends? Re-kindle a family relationship?