Nell laughed. She’d known Bethany would be almost delirious with excitement. Brittany...probably not as much. Although Brittney loved her fictional worlds. Dressing up for a party was almost like living in a book, but it wouldn’t shock her if Brittney didn’t go.
“Let me see.” Brittney managed to snatch the brochure out of Bethany’s hand. “Oh, wow,” she said as she scanned the paper. “Formal? This sounds big.”
“It’s at Sweet Water Ranch. Of course it’s going to be big.” Bethany slapped her sister on the arm and yanked the brochure back.
Nell supposed it would have been rude to ask the rich man—Ryder—for a second brochure when he’d handed her the first, just to keep her sisters from fighting over it.
“I have another small surprise, but it’s pretty much only for Bethany.” Nell put a hand on the box. Brittney and Bethany were twins but not identical. One of their many differences was that Bethany’s feet were much bigger. Probably about the right size to wear the shoes. Otherwise, Nell and Bethany were about the same size. Brittney was a little more round.
Nell opened the box. Both of her sisters gasped. Nell’s finger touched the shoe, a soft, admiring caress.
“They’re beautiful,” Brittney breathed.
“Yeah,” Bethany agreed, for once at a loss for words.
Nell picked them up carefully, like they were made of glass rather than whatever it was that shoes were made of. “But they’re too big for me.”
“Where did you get them?” Brittney asked.
“Were you at the thrift store?” Bethany’s eyes narrowed. She would be angry if she thought Nell went shopping without her. For all her bluster, she’d never been able to get up the nerve to get her driver’s license. Nell thought there might be some kind of depth perception problem with her eyes. Probably correctable with the right kind of glasses. Expensive glasses most likely.
“No. I had a flat tire, and the man who stopped to fix it for me gave me the brochure and the shoes.”
Vinton had come around the table, and his eyes were wide with wonder. “Those are pretty. You gonna wear them to feed the cows?” He smirked, and Nell smacked his shoulder lightly.
“Yup. These shoes make haybales feed themselves to the cows, and they cause water to unfreeze itself.”
“So those shoes make you lazy?” He giggled.
“They make me faster. So my little brother can’t get away from me.”
“You’re already faster than I am, Nell. I can beat Beth and Brit, though.” He put his arms up in a racing position and imitated a cartoon character as his feet stomped the floor before he ran into the living room.
Nell handed the shoes to Bethany. “Are you going to try them on?”
She took them, setting them on the table before she started taking her slippers off. “I can tell they’re going to fit.”
“In other words, you’re going to wear these shoes even if they kill your feet,” Brittney said.
“Exactly. They’re worth it. I’d never be able to afford shoes like this, even if they did sell them in North Dakota. Are you sure they’re not stolen?” Bethany set her slippers aside and picked up one of the sparkling silver shoes.
“I never thought of that.” She could probably ask Ryder the next time she saw him. Maybe she could find out why he’d given them to her in the first place. She’d been so befuddled today, she’d never even thought of it.
“Hey, Bethany. I’m going to finish your potato chips,” Vinton called from the living room. “And your beer.”
Bethany squealed, jumping up, dropping the shoe. “No, you’re not, you little twerp.” She ran around the table as Vinton laughed and pounded through the living room. The thump of his feet on the stairs was followed by the angrier-sounding thuds of Bethany’s.
Nell sighed and met Brittney’s smiling eyes. “It’s nice to be home.” She loved helping Elaine out, and she was excited about the possibility of working off the ranch this spring, but she was a homebody. Her family wasn’t perfect—what family was—but she loved them and missed them.
“You should try the shoes on.” Brittney put her chin on her hand and leaned her elbow on the table, a dreamy look on her face.
Nell wanted to, even though she knew they wouldn’t fit. Just to wear something that nice for a few seconds. “They’ll probably fit just as well as Tom’s old boots do.”
“Humph.”
She took the shoes as Vinton’s scream came down the stairs, indicating his sister had finally caught him. Nell figured it wasn’t going to be too long until Vinton wasn’t getting caught anymore. Maybe Bethany would consider taking her stuff with her when she left the room.
Pounding on the stairs indicated that Bethany was coming back, triumphant.
Nell held the shoe in her hand, twisting it in the light.
The smell of burnt meat hit her nose just as she slipped her socks off. She’d forgotten about supper. She shoved the shoes on before jumping up to get the burnt dinner.
She’d yanked the skillet from the burner and turned it off, grabbing the spatula and moving the pan of corn out of the way, before she realized that the shoes she’d thought were going to be too big fit her just right. More comfortable than a well-worn pair of boots.
Nell looked down. Somehow the shoes didn’t even look ridiculous peeking out from her worn and ratty jeans.
That was weird.
“Hey,” Bethany said as she stuck her beer on the counter and her chips above the fridge. “You said I could try them on.”
“Sorry,” Nell said, toeing the shoes off. Her feet tingled as they slipped out of the shoes. She’d never imagined that wearing quality footwear could feel so good.
Part of her didn’t want to give them up to Bethany, but another part of her said that if they fit her, they’d never fit Beth, so she didn’t need to worry about it.
She turned back to the stove, trying to figure out if she could salvage anything from the meat for supper.
She could hear clicking and rustling as Bethany put the shoes on.
“They’re too big,” Bethany said from behind her.
“You mean too small,” Nell corrected as she scooped the unburned portion of meat from the skillet.
“No. They’re too big.”
“Maybe you can stuff tissues in the toes,” Brittney suggested helpfully.
“What’s going on out here? What’s all the ruckus about?” Tom stood in the doorway. Tall, dark, and brooding. His face was covered in the beard he’d had since last October. A common practice among North Dakota males. It kept the face warm and safe from frostbite for the most part.
“That was Vinton making all the racket. He was running up and down the stairs.” Bethany ducked into the bathroom that attached to the kitchen and came back out with the spare roll of toilet paper they kept under the sink.
“What’re you doing with that?” Tom scratched his chest and braced a hand on the doorframe. He was only slurring his words a little, so he must not have been passed out like Nell had assumed and was only taking an afternoon nap.
“Nell brought home shoes, and they’re a little too big for me.” Bethany ripped off some of the toilet paper and shoved it into the toes of the shoes.
“Glad you’re home, Nell. You can feed tonight. I’m tired, and I have to be up in Clint at daybreak Monday.”
“Sure, Tom,” Nell said with a smile, that covered her irritation. She knew what would happen if she suggested that Bethany or Brittney could feed. She’d be told if she wanted to stay, she needed to earn her keep and that she was free to leave at any time. The offer would be tempting, except for the promise she’d made to take care of Vinton.
She didn’t really mind feeding, just the fact that she was the only one he looked to to do it.
Ranch life was great and she actually enjoyed doing the work. She had all the mama cows named. She didn’t tell anyone, but she named their babies, too. Yeah, that made it harder when they left in the cattle truck, but it made feeding time mor
e enjoyable, more like going out and seeing her friends and less like a chore that she had to do.
“There, that’s a little better.” Bethany stood and wobbled in the shoes. Funny that they seemed so uncomfortable on her. But more odd than anything was that they fit Nell just right and were too big on Bethany, when Bethany had much bigger feet than she did.
She narrowed her eyes, considering.
“Hey, you’re dripping on the floor,” Brittney said, pointing at the spatula where a few drops of grease hung on the end of it.
“Oh, sorry.” Nell turned, going back to scooping out the meat. She supposed it didn’t matter about the floor, since she would be the one scrubbing it anyway. A ribbon of irritation snaked around her ribs, but she pushed it aside. When her mother had been so very sick she couldn’t get off the couch, she’d begged Nell that if she only learned one thing, it was to be happy and content. To not spend her life in bitterness or complaint.
Maybe it was because it seemed to be the last lesson her mother had ever taught her, or maybe because her mother had always lived it so well, but any time Nell was tempted to be anything other than happy, she felt like she was failing her mother. She hated the guilt that it produced. But more than anything, she wanted to be like her mother.
She wasn’t going to be bitter. She wasn’t going to complain. But she was going to save money for herself and Vinton to leave just as soon as Vinton turned eighteen. Even though the ranch had been in her family for generations and the last thing she wanted to do was leave it. Maybe something else would work out, but she wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life waiting on Beth and Brit hand and foot.
Behind her, her sisters chatted about the shoes and told Tom about the ball.
“I just wish I had a dress to go with these amazing shoes,” Bethany said, maybe a little slyly.
Predictably, Tom said, “I’ll be home in four weeks. I’ll take you two shopping.”
“I’ll need to go to the Cities to find anything that will do these shoes justice.” Bethany’s tone was slightly calculated and very cajoling.
Tom yawned. “I don’t want to take Vinny on such a long trip.”
“Nell can watch him. She’ll have to stay to feed anyway.”
“Well, yeah. That’s what I thought we’d do.” Tom walked over and sat at the table. “How long until supper? I’m starting to get hungry.”
“Not long.” Nell figured there’d be enough unburnt portion left for everyone if she didn’t eat, although her stomach rumbled. There were crackers in the pantry. And peanut butter.
“We could probably pick you up a dress,” Brittney said. She was usually the most considerate of the family.
“That’s kind of you to think of me, but they need servers, and it pays a lot. So I’m going to apply for that.” She watched Tom’s face carefully. He didn’t seem upset at the idea of her serving at the ball. Most of the time, she got the impression he didn’t even really realize she was there.
He didn’t hate her; she was sure of that. But he felt indifferent toward her. Except when it came to getting things done. Maybe this was how a maid who worked for a rich family felt. Only her family wasn’t rich, and she didn’t get paid.
The only time he seemed to care was when she’d broached the subject of her getting an actual, paying job, which she’d done several times since her mother passed away. Before that, she’d taken on the responsibility of full-time caretaker for her mother.
He’d forcefully refused, every time. She might conclude from that that he wanted her after all, but she thought it might be more that he wanted her to keep Vinton. Even going to Elaine’s and watching her kids could end up in an argument. She hated the fighting, but what she really hated was when he pulled the “you can leave if you want to” card.
She couldn’t leave Vinton. Not after the promise she’d made her mother.
But maybe she’d better feel him out about her job offer, since Clay and Ryder were coming to talk to him on Sunday. Or maybe she’d let it go. She didn’t want to fight. He wasn’t as sauced up as he normally was in the evening, and they had a chance to be a normal family for once. Vinton needed that kind of normalcy. If she picked a fight with Tom, it would ruin everything. Plus, Clay might be able to work miracles with Tom. He did seem to have an extra in with the good Lord.
Chapter 5
Ryder pulled his hat farther down over his head and stepped out of Preacher’s pickup. Preacher had convinced him that he needed to dress down a little more in North Dakota. “You make people uncomfortable when they feel like you’re all gussied up,” he’d said.
So Ryder wore worn jeans he’d found in the back of his closet from his teenaged days. They were a little snug but long enough. He’d never lost his acclimation to the cold—maybe it’d been bred into him—and he didn’t wear a coat in the thirty-degree weather. Just a flannel button-down and t-shirt.
He supposed, after seeing what Nell had driven and how she’d been dressed, he hadn’t expected her to live on a spread that looked prosperous, but this one didn’t look too awful. The roof on the house looked newer. The fence seemed like it was in good repair, and although there were some boards missing on the barn, that wasn’t too unusual.
Preacher had said her stepfather worked the oil fields. Maybe that brought some extra money in, and maybe Nell just chose to dress like a hobo and drive an old pickup. He’d come to the conclusion she was afraid her old truck wouldn’t make it back and forth to Sweet Water, but since the only other vehicle parked in front of the house was an even older-looking, rusted-out car, maybe he’d figured wrong.
Preacher shoved his notebook under the seat. “You coming in, Gina? Let’s see if we can get Vinton out to play for a bit.”
“He will. He told me when we saw him at the hardware store that he’d show me his barn and cows if we ever came out. He said he’d dare me to jump from the hayloft.”
Preacher cleared his throat. “I’d rather not go to the ER today, if possible, kiddo.”
“Sure Dad. Mr. Peterson will take me.” Gina gave her dad a saucy grin.
Preacher rolled his eyes and led the way through the mostly melted snow to the house.
Ryder followed Preacher and Gina up the walk and waited while he rapped on the door. The house was quiet and still like everyone inside was taking a Sunday afternoon nap.
Ryder hadn’t taken a Sunday afternoon nap in years, too focused on taking care of his business. Sunday was not a day off. It was a day to get ahead. Only, he wasn’t in New York City. He was in North Dakota and someone else was sitting in his office running his business. It burned.
“Hey, Preacher. Nice to see you clear out here. Come on in.” A tall brunette with sleepy eyes, jammie pants, and a t-shirt that hugged her curves greeted them at the door. Her eyes landed on him. The look she gave him made him feel like he was on the auction stand at Sotheby’s. “Hey, stranger,” she said, a little smile on her lips.
“Hey, yourself,” he said automatically. This girl didn’t look anything like Nell, the same way the Playmate of the Month didn’t look like Dora the Explorer.
He noted that the girl didn’t even try to charm the Preacher and didn’t say anything at all to Gina. If he had to guess, he’d say she’d already figured out he wasn’t susceptible to a woman’s wiles.
Ryder had been in the past. He’d paid for it. To the tune of not quite thirty mil. He hadn’t gotten a t-shirt, but after parting with that kind of money, he didn’t need one to remind him of his failed marriage. It had lasted a year. He hadn’t seen her since she’d gotten her money.
Vinton came running through. “Hey, Mr. Stryker. I saw you guys coming from the window upstairs. You allowed to go out and play, Gina?”
“Dad said I could.”
“Hello, Vinton,” Preacher said. “Gina can go out. But if she ends up in the ER, I’m going to make sure you end up there with her.” Preacher’s tone was as mild as Ryder had ever heard it. But the threat impressed Vinton.
“
Yes, sir.” His face had paled, but that didn’t keep him from motioning to Gina. They ran out the door.
The girl in the tight t shirt blinked her eyes at him. “I’m Bethany.” She held out a slender white hand with long fingers and coral-colored nails. “And you may kiss my hand.”
His brows raised. He’d thought he’d seen it all, having lived in New York City for the last decade, but apparently not.
“Cut it out, Beth,” the Preacher said. “Where’s your dad?”
“Aww. I’m just having a little fun with him,” Bethany said in a voice that sounded an awful lot like a mixture between Marilyn Monroe and Madonna.
“He’s a city boy, Beth. I know you think that’s what you want, but you’re not in his league. He’ll break your heart. Leave him alone.”
Ryder swallowed his snort just in time, leaving his lips lifted in a smirk that probably suited Preacher’s words.
“Hey, Clay. I woke Tom up. He’s coming out.” Nell, fresh-faced, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and in bare feet, hurried into the kitchen. She walked over to the cupboard above the refrigerator and, standing on her toes, opened the door. “I was going through some of my mom’s things, and I found this.” She pulled a notebook down. “I thought of you.”
Ryder tried not to crane his neck to see what was so special about the notebook. The paper was a smooth pink color with flowers in shades of blue watermarked on it. Preacher didn’t even blush. “Thanks, Nell.” He took the notebook. “I’m honored to have paper your mom used. She was a good woman. The very best.”
Nell beamed. Since Preacher was talking in past tense, Ryder assumed she’d passed away. Or left. Women did that. He almost snorted again. Men did that too. His dad had.
“Come on in and sit down. I made some apple pie with the last of the Ida Reds in the basement. Should be good.”
Ah, yeah. Where he lived, people didn’t call apples by name, and they didn’t keep them in a basement. It was like stepping into a different world. But he realized he’d been smelling the apples and cinnamon for a while, and his mouth watered.
Cowboys Don't Believe in Fairy Tales Page 4
