by Caroline Lee
The bidding on the baskets belonging to Rose and Snow, and Euna Smith and Ani Dokter, was fierce, and then it was the Miller sisters’ turns. Gaston won the bidding on Eunice’s basket, and strutted off beaming to collect his lunch companion. When Mr. Smith announced that Mabel’s basket contained fried chicken, Ian had been half-tempted to bid on it himself, but decided that he’d rather keep the memory of Ella’s meal untarnished. Nothing could compare to her fried chicken. Once the contents of the basket were announced, Mabel’s bidding increased, and she lost her worried expression.
Ian elbowed Max and suggested that he join the fray, but his friend’s tight-lipped head-shake told him that he didn’t want anything to do with the Miller sisters. That didn’t stop Ian from ribbing his new friend, though, throughout the basket bidding. Ox and Ian did their best to sell their friend on each subsequent lady’s basket, until he finally threw up his hands.
“Why don’t you bid, Ian? Still waiting for your mystery lady?”
Waiting, indeed. She wouldn’t be here today, but that didn’t matter. He’d seen her last night, touched her, and gotten her promise that she’d be back. He would see her again.
So he just smiled, and dipped his chin in agreement. “That’s right. No one here can come close to her.” It was the truth. She was beyond compare.
The line of eligible ladies grew shorter and shorter, and the crowd thinned out as men “won” the pleasure of the ladies’ company, until the Mayor began to thank everyone for coming and announcing the total collected. It was a significant amount, and when Ian joined in the cheering, he really felt like he’d found someplace to belong.
But then the Mayor held up his hands, shushing them, and was saying something about one last entry. He reached out his hand, and pulled a young lady up on stage, and Ian felt his heart stop.
“Hoooooooboy.” Ian found himself nodding in agreement with Ox’s approving whistle. She was… stunning wasn’t the right word. She was a vision. His Ella was up there on the bandstand, dressed in a gown that perfectly matched her eyes, those gorgeous curls falling down her back like they always did in his dreams, looking not a little confused. She was… She was perfect.
He willed her to find him in the crowd, and judging from the way her eyes darted here and there, she was trying. The Mayor asked her a question, gesturing at the bundle that dangled from one of her hands, and had to repeat it twice to get her answer. Finally, Ian saw her whisper something, and Mr. Smith turned back to the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have one last young lady, who hasn’t given her name. Her basket contains oatmeal cookies, apparently.” He cleared his throat, no doubt puzzled by her offering. “What will you give me for them? What will you give me for what I assume are delicious cookies, and the company of this fair young vision?”
Everything.
It wasn’t until Max asked him to repeat it that Ian realized he’d said it aloud. So he smiled, lifted his chin, and raised his voice. “Absolutely everything.”
The crowd shifted and murmured in response to his bold claim, and the people closest to him turned. Ian didn’t care though; he had eyes only for Ella, who’d finally found him among all the others. As he fitted his crutch under his right arm, and began to move through the crowd, everyone backed away, forming a path directly to her. She wasn’t smiling when she took a tentative step towards the edge of the bandstand closest to him, but he didn’t mind. He was coming for her.
He held her gaze as he hobbled towards her, keeping those gorgeous turquoise eyes on his by sheer willpower alone. She didn’t blink, and he tried to tell her that everything would be all right. They’d be together.
They reached the edge of the bandstand at the same time. Ian halted, looking up at her, and realized that she was holding her breath, the same as he was. He placed the crutch on the rough wood planking, and hitched his right knee up to brace on top of the structure. He wanted to take her in his arms, to show all of Everland that she was his, and was going to be his forever.
But the Mayor moved closer, holding out the collection box. Without breaking eye contact with her, Ian dug into his right trouser pocket and pulled out all of the coins he was carrying. He wasn’t sure exactly how much was there—probably not more than ten dollars. But if the Mayor needed more, he’d get it. Ian would give everything to spend the day with her.
Absolutely everything.
The clink of the coins in the collection box just barely registered, and the looming presence of Mr. Smith backed away, and there were only two people in the universe again. Ian found himself tensing, poised, waiting for a sign from her to tell him that this was right, this was what she wanted.
She touched him. Standing there, above him, she reached out one beautifully callused set of fingers and brushed the hair off of his forehead. The simple gesture shot sparks across his skin and through his soul, and he was lost. It was the only motivation he needed.
Putting his weight on the knee that was braced against the bandstand, Ian wrapped his hands around her tiny waist, and lifted her down to stand beside him. When he first moved, she gasped, and grabbed at his upper arms; even when she was standing safely beside him, her touch lingered, and Ian found himself hoping she’d never stop.
They stood, staring at one another, for a long moment. He knew that they were being watched, that there were people all around—people whom he’d come to care about, people who’d accepted him as part of Everland. But at that moment, none of them mattered more than this woman.
“You came.”
Her smile was sweet, and when she lifted her fingertips to caress his cheek, he didn’t see any of the hesitation he’d seen the night before in her eyes. She’d come. She was here, with him. “I promised you.”
When her hand fluttered across his jaw, Ian’s control vanished. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss against her palm. It wasn’t where he’d been dreaming of tasting her, but it was close enough. And judging from the way she closed her eyes on a shudder, she felt their connection as well. Her voice was rough, hoarse, when she admitted, “…I just didn’t expect to join in the basket auction.”
He answered truthfully. “I’m glad that you did, Ella. I’ve been looking for you for weeks. My friends were beginning to think that I’d made you up, but when you showed up here, looking like a princess…” He would be the envy of half of Everland’s population.
When she opened her eyes again, there was a hint of uncertainty. “I’m sorry about my basket, though.”
“What about it?”
“I was so busy packing my sisters’ baskets that I didn’t think to pack one for myself. So all I have to offer you for your contribution is cookies.”
When she began to chew on her bottom lip in concern, he couldn’t stop from staring at it. In his dreams, he’d been the one to nibble on that lip, and he wasn’t going to last much longer without tasting it. “Sweetheart, I love oatmeal cookies.” It wasn’t a lie; they’d been his mother’s specialty.
“But I’m sorry. You’ll want more than…” His expression must’ve changed, because she suddenly went all flustered and trailed off. She cleared her throat and looked away.
“Yeah,” he drawled, and vaguely heard whistles from the crowd.
He cupped her cheek, turning her face, her lips back toward him. He knew his grin turned wicked, and loved the way her eyes widened as she understood. Her whisper seemed distracted. “I’m not particularly hungry.”
“I am.”
She exhaled slightly at his growled promise, and then he was finally tasting her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, he pulled her close enough to him to feel the length of her, and he was gone.
Kissing Ella was everything that he dreamed it would be. She was sweet, she was hot, she was Ella. She tasted of rightness, of home, of a future. Her fingers twined through the hair at the base of his neck, and her breasts pushed against his chest through the silk of her dress and the cotton of his suit, and he didn’t know how
he was going to restrain himself from peeling the gown off of her. God, she tasted good.
She tasted right.
She was his.
When they finally broke apart, each gasping for air, the cheers of the crowd—of his friends, his home—registered. Keeping one arm around her waist—not sure that he could let her go now—he turned away from the bandstand and adjusted his spectacles. Were they foggy, or was that his imagination?
He met Max’s eyes across the crowd, and his friend’s smile and nod of approval made Ian puff up a bit. Other men in the crowd were still hooting and hollering, and more than one woman was fanning herself frantically. Hank Cutter had his arms around his wife, and she was staring up at him with enough love in her expression to make sure everyone around them saw it.
And Ian knew that’s what he wanted with Ella. He wanted to love her, to earn her love, and have everyone around them know it. Forever.
It was positively the most magical moment of Ella’s life. The sensation of Ian’s skin against hers, the taste of his lips, the feeling of his very soul pressed against hers… it was much, much better than her dreams. And when they pulled apart, she knew that she wanted to feel it again and again and again. She wanted to spend a night—many nights! All nights!—wrapped in his arms. She wanted to feel him peel her gown down her arms; she wanted to wrap her fingers around his forearms and trace the hills and valleys of his chest. She wanted more.
Who knew that wishing upon a star would bring such grand results after all?
But the moment was marred when Ian turned her to face the crowd, and she knew that everyone was staring, wondering who she was. These were people who’d lived near her for most of her life, and she didn’t know a single one of them; hadn’t been allowed to know a single one of them.
That wasn’t true; she knew two of the bystanders. Papa and Sibyl stood off to one side, and Ella forced herself to meet their eyes. To her complete astonishment, her stepfather showed no signs of recognition. The cold fury she’d expected to see just wasn’t there; his ice-blue eyes showed merely a distaste at what she assumed he considered a disgusting display of affection.
Once Ella considered the situation, she realized that she shouldn’t be surprised; Papa had never really seen her; he’d never considered her one of his daughters, had never looked at her for more than the moment it took to assign a new chore or dole out a punishment on behalf of one of her sisters. Now, garbed in a gorgeously expensive gown, with her “disgusting Gypsy” hair down for the world to see—against his dictates—he didn’t even recognize her.
It was that moment that Ella knew that Papa didn’t represent her future. If he couldn’t see her—really see her—then he didn’t deserve her.
Beside him, Sibyl was wearing the delighted grin that meant she couldn’t believe what was happening, and was excited to see the outcome. She definitely recognized her older stepsister, and Ella wondered if she’d fess up. She lifted her chin, deciding that she didn’t care if Sibyl did her worst… but then Sibyl’s expression softened, and she glanced up at her father and drew his attention by pointing towards something on the far side of the field. Ella vowed that she’d find a way to thank this youngest stepsister of hers, once she got back home.
No, back to the ranch; the Miller Ranch had never been a home to her. It had been a prison. Ella dismissed her stepfather, and glanced up at Ian, who was looking thoughtful. This was her home; wherever Ian was. He was her heart.
“How many stepsisters did you say that you had?”
It was an odd question, especially after what they’d shared, and Ella answered it without wondering. “Three.”
“Hmmmmm,” was all he said, but she saw his mind working. She didn’t want to spend her one day of freedom discussing her past, though. She wanted to spend it with him, loving him. Showing him what things could be like, if she ever was able to break free from her stepfather.
But Papa’s threat still hung over them. He was a powerful man, and unless Ian had gained some standing in the community since Edmund Miller made the ultimatum, it was a real concern; Papa could end him, could ruin his business, could drive him out of town. Ella wasn’t going to let that happen. She loved Ian, and she wasn’t going to let her stepfather ruin his hard work. As much as she was coming to realize that her future was with him, she would go back to the ranch and sacrifice that future, if it meant Ian’s safety.
For now, though, she had him. She had a new gown, she had new shoes, she had a lovely day, and she had him. She’d celebrate Independence Day; independence from her family and from responsibility. Tonight, she’d sneak back home before Papa and the girls did—Ella squeezed up against Ian and made a vow to watch her family, to make sure that she left before them—but for now, she was free.
When she met Ian’s gaze again, he was smiling, and she couldn’t help but smile back. He bent to pick up his crutch, and she begrudged the few moments of movement that meant he wasn’t holding her. Remedying that, he tucked her up against him once more, and Ella sighed in contentment. “Come on, sweetheart.”
No one had called her “sweetheart” since her mother had passed away. The endearment caused her heart to swell with happiness. She was where she belonged, with him.
Now, if only she could figure out how to convince her family of this. Convince them to let her go, to be with Ian. Convince him that she was the one who’d love him forever, just the way he was. Convince herself that they deserved a future.
He led her towards the shade of a tall birch, and pulled her down to the grass with him. And the rest of the afternoon continued to be magical, too.
CHAPTER TEN
Yesterday had been… magical. Ian stacked his hands behind his head, reveling in the way the breeze from the open window cooled his heated skin, and relived every moment of yesterday’s picnic. He still couldn’t believe that she’d come—didn’t know how she’d managed that. But he’d known then, when he claimed her in front of all of Everland, that she’d be his. He was going to ask her to marry him, and he’d make sure that she spent the rest of her life knowing how important and valued she was. She’d never again slave away for her family.
After the spectacle at the bandstand, they’d spent the afternoon on a little grassy rise under that birch tree. They’d fed each other cookies and other delicious food—Ella did leave briefly to fill up two plates with barbequed pork and salads and cornbread—and talked for long hours. They’d discussed the pup’s health, and how she’d be up playing with Manny in no time. She told him about the peculiar woman who’d come to her ranch—she didn’t even notice that she’d given him that clue to her family—and brought her the lovely dress. The stranger had disappeared right before the basket auction, and Ian agreed that she sounded like the mysterious stranger who he’d been hearing about over the last year.
He’d told her about his past, and about how hard he’d worked to make it here to Everland. He’d told her how he’d found a place here in town, only recently, thanks to new friends like Max DeVille and Hank Cutter. He’d told her how he’d found a place to belong, and how he’d help her make new friends.
And he touched her as often as possible. Even when they weren’t kissing, he’d been holding her hand, or she was running her fingers through his hair. They couldn’t seem to not be in contact, and he loved it. He loved everything about her.
Despite the fact that no one was around them, Ian had known that they weren’t alone. The people of Everland were watching them constantly, and he welcomed their interest. He was going to marry this woman, after all. As the sun dipped lower in the west, the band started up again, and the couples came together to dance. Ian pulled his crutch towards him to escort her towards the dancing, but she stopped him with her hand over his.
Meeting her clear eyes, he held his breath. “No,” she’d said. “No. I want to stay here with you.”
Ian had felt his heart trying to climb up his throat. Loved everything about her? No, he loved her. She didn’t pity him, but accept
ed his limitations. She accepted him as he was, and he loved her for it.
When it was nearly dark, she’d kissed him one last time—that kiss!—and looked into his eyes. “Ian Crowne, I love you.” He thought his heart would explode.
And then, while he was still trying to make himself breathe again, she turned and disappeared into the crowd. He hadn’t been able to find her again. She’d disappeared, just like that first time.
Only now, he knew she was real. Knew she was his. How could she not be, if she loved him? And after seeing the way she’d peered at the bystanders at the basket auction, he had a fairly good idea who she was.
And there were a pair of cowboy boots downstairs that needed returning.
Yesterday had been magical, but today…? Ian smiled up at the ceiling, knowing that last night’s dreams couldn’t compare to yesterday’s kisses. Today was going to be the start of their future.
“And that dress! Did you see how lovely that turquoise silk and velvet went together?”
“Oh, the cut was just divine! Wasn’t it just divine, Sibyl? Of course, with you dragging us around to talk to people, I only ever got to see the backside of the dress. Did you see the front, Eunice?”
“No, Gaston kept me busy feeding him pasta salad and cookies. He’s a man after my own heart.”
Mabel huffed and rolled her eyes. “Sibyl, since you must have seen it, do sketch it for Ella. I want a dress like that, in red for next year.”
As their youngest sister muttered something noncommittal and glanced in her direction, Ella ducked her head over her pot roast, and tried to hide her smile. She kept having to remind herself that as far as her older stepsisters were concerned, she’d spent yesterday here at the ranch, definitely not enjoying herself or practicing kissing with Everland’s most handsome bachelor.
