Rust Creek Falls Cinderella

by Melissa Senate

  Xander had barely been aware the bacon was frying. He made himself pay attention as she showed him how to scramble the eggs, which of course he knew, how to let the omelet set and cook at the same time, when to add the cheese and bacon and when to fold it. They had two pans going, two omelets in each, and suddenly they were ready and smelled amazing. The ones he was responsible for looked a little lopsided, but still delicious.

  “We’ll eat these,” he said. “My first diners can have yours.”

  She laughed, and again he wanted to pull her against him and just hug her, hold her.

  He didn’t know how long he was going to be able to contain his feelings for her. If he even should at this point. Maybe they could just see what was between them. Maybe it wouldn’t last, they could get each other out of their system, and he could go back to being Not Getting Involved Xander.

  “Going to the dance at Sunshine Farm on Saturday night?” he asked as she showed him how to slide the omelet onto a plate.

  He suddenly imagined them pressed chest to chest, her arms draped around his neck, his around her waist as they swayed to a slow country ballad. The warm, breezy summer air blowing back her long red hair...

  She added a handful of grapes to each plate. “I was just talking to Sarah about it today. The Rust Creek Falls Summer Sunset Dance. Sounds fun. Will you be there?”

  “I think all the Crawfords are going, so yes. I’ll show my face but I don’t know how long I’ll stay.”

  “Well, I’ll definitely see you there, then. You’ll save me a dance before you rush off into the night?”

  “I will,” he said, dragging his eyes off her and onto the plates.

  It was almost like a date. But not quite. He’d see how it felt, dancing with Lily. Thinking of her as his. A slow ease into giving in to his feelings for her.

  It was a start, right?

  Chapter Eight

  Kalispell was the nearest big town to Rust Creek Falls, a forty-five minute drive but worth it for the access to shops where Lily could look through clothing racks and jewelry displays, and maybe even get her makeup done at a beauty counter. She’d been going to Bee’s Beauty Parlor, which was right next door to two of her favorite places—Daisy’s Donuts and Wings to Go—ever since her dad realized her hair would need trimming every few months and that his attempts were woefully uneven. Lily had even called Bee’s to make an appointment for a real haircut, but they were booked solid because of the dance. Luckily Sarah had gotten recommendations for salons in Kalispell and now Lily was sitting in a huge swivel chair in Hair Genie, a trendy-looking salon in the center of town, Sarah standing beside her.

  “So what do you have in mind?” her stylist, Ember (Lily had no idea if that was her real name or not), a chic young woman all in black, asked as she assessed Lily’s hair, running her fingers through it, picking up strands and examining the ends. “Very healthy. You can do anything with this thick, straight, silky texture.”

  Lily looked at Ember’s gorgeous mane, which was exactly what she wanted hers to look like. “I love your hairstyle. Would that work on me?”

  Ember smiled and nodded. “Absolutely. I just have some simple long layers. Keeps it easy for me to pin up so it doesn’t get in my way when I’m working, but the layers give the thick, straight texture a lot of oomph and swing.”

  “That’s perfect for you, Lily,” Sarah said, standing on the other side of her and looking at her reflection. “Lily’s a chef,” she told Ember.

  “Then it’s vital to keep the front layers very long so they don’t fall in your face,” Ember said. “Plus, you can dress up the cut or keep it casual—just like with fashion. Let it air-dry or a quick blow-dry for a casual look. Use a heated styling brush or curling iron and you can do amazing beachy waves.”

  “Perfect. I put myself in your hands,” she told Ember. Then she grinned at Sarah. “I’m so excited!”

  “Me, too,” Sarah said. “Okay, I’m gonna go read magazines—something I never get to do.”

  Lily looked at the shiny silver scissors in Ember’s hand and felt like this moment marked the culmination of everything she’d worked so hard for the past year. Working toward her degree in business. Quitting the Gold Rush Diner for a swanky restaurant like the Maverick Manor and getting promoted to line cook (she had been a prep cook her first six months, but the few times she’d filled in for a cook had caught her boss’s attention). Making plans, even if they were just in her head at this point, for having her own place someday, whether a small restaurant or her own catering shop or even both. Her look would now catch up with the woman she’d become on the inside.

  She closed her eyes, wanting her haircut to be a surprise.

  Twenty-five minutes later, Ember announced she was all done and that it was time to unveil the new Lily Hunt. Sarah came running over and Lily heard her gasp.

  She opened her eyes.

  Wow. “I love it!” Lily shrieked. Her hair was still long, the layers starting at her shoulders and flipping back a bit to blend in with the rest of her hair. Ember had her move her head from side to side like she was in a shampoo commercial.

  “You look amazing!” Sarah said. “It’s gorgeous! Chic and stylish but still casual at the same time. It’s perfect!”

  Lily shot out of her chair and threw her arms around Ember.

  The stylist laughed. “I love getting that reaction. See you in six weeks for a trim. Or since you live a bit of a distance, you can just have a local salon keep up the trims, and come to me if you want to make another change. I am your hair genie,” she added with a grin and bow.

  “Squee!” Lily shouted as she and Sarah left the salon. She couldn’t stop touching her hair and shaking it. “I’m going to make you sick after a while, Sarah.”

  “I completely get your excitement,” her friend said. “Ooh, let’s check out that clothing shop.” She pointed across the street at On Trend, a boutique. “Look at that pretty dress in the window.”

  Lily was already staring at it. It was a knee-length sundress, a pale pink with spaghetti straps. Sexy and playful. And perfect for the dance.

  They linked arms and dashed across the street and into the shop.

  Lily found the dress in her size and slung it over her arm, then Sarah directed her to the racks of jeans, wagging her finger when Lily looked at a pair of her usual type of jeans.

  “Try these,” Sarah said, picking up a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans. “And these. And these.”

  A saleswoman gathered what they’d chosen so far and hung the items in a dressing room. Sarah came over with armloads of tops and sweaters and pants. Lily had an armful of her own.

  Ten minutes later, Lily was in the dressing room. She started with the pale pink dress.

  She took off her T-shirt and shorts and slid the dress over her head, the soft fabric lovely against her skin. It fit perfectly, neither tight nor loose. She stood back and looked at herself, tears poking her eyes.

  Yes. Yes, yes, yes. This is me.

  She stepped out of the dressing room and Sarah literally clapped.

  “It’s beautiful! It fits you so well! Oh, Lily!”

  Lily stared at herself in the floor mirror. “I always shied away from pinks because of my hair, but something about the light pink works. Have I ever worn spaghetti straps? I don’t think so.”

  “You look amazing,” Sarah said.

  “Want to try these cute shoes with it?” the salesclerk asked, holding out a pair of silver ballet flats with a pointy toe.

  The shoes looked great with the dress and were shockingly comfortable for not being sneakers or the clogs Lily usually wore to work.

  A half hour later, Lily brought her “yes” pile to the counter, her gaze drawn to the intimates section. “Maybe a couple of sexy bras and matching undies would round out the plain white cotton and little purple flowers on my current collectio
n.”

  “Definitely,” Sarah said with a grin.

  Two lace bras, one a blush color, one black, and two matching pairs of underwear joined the stack on the counter. She was getting the dress, two pairs of skinny jeans, two pairs of slim capris, one black pencil skirt, three tops with cute details and two pretty cardigans. Plus three pairs of shoes—the silver ballet flats, a pair of charcoal leather heels that she could actually walk in and strappy sandals. All the pieces worked together so that she’d have outfits. She couldn’t wait to move her current wardrobe of loose, boring jeans and T-shirts to the back of her closet.

  Next they stopped in a cosmetics shop, a saleswoman giving her a tutorial on a natural and an evening look. When the woman capped the pink-red lipstick and Lily looked in the mirror at her makeover, she gasped again.

  “Whoa. I’ve never worn this much makeup. But it doesn’t look like I’m playing dress-up. It just looks like an enhanced me.”

  “Exactly,” the woman said. “You look very elegant.”

  “Me, elegant,” Lily repeated. “First time anyone’s ever called me that!”

  Sarah grinned. “Welcome, Enhanced Lily!”

  Lily laughed, peering at herself in the mirror, still unable to believe she could look like this if she wanted. “I wonder if Xander will even notice.”

  Sarah’s eyes probably popped. “What? Are you serious?”

  Lily sighed. “I don’t think what I look like is the issue.”

  “Well, if the T-shirt and jeans Lily has that man all wrung inside out,” Sarah said, “imagine what the sexy Lily is gonna do to him!”

  Huh. She hadn’t thought of it like that before.

  Lily grinned.

  * * *

  “Yes, you’re going,” Max Crawford bellowed at Knox in the family room at the Ambling A on Saturday afternoon. “And you’re going,” he said, pointing at Hunter. “And you’re going.” This was directed at Finn. “The kvetching around here—over a casual summer dance. Give me a break! You’re all going and that’s that!”

  “Well, I guess we’re going,” Wilder said on a chuckle.

  “No one wondered if you were going,” Knox said to Wilder, a guy who’d always lived up his name. “Of course you’re going.”

  “Damned straight I am,” Wilder confirmed. “At least thirty women asked me to save them a dance.”

  Little did those women know that Wilder was about as interested in marriage as Xander was.

  “Ditto,” Finn said.

  Now there was the single women of Rust Creek Falls’s best chance of Viv Dalton’s “dating service” ending with a walk down the aisle. The dreamer of the family, Finn was always falling in love. Out of love just as fast and hard, but then back in love—with the same enthusiasm. Xander didn’t get it.

  “Just thirty?” Hunter asked. “Try at least a hundred here.”

  “Once again,” Knox said, “I doubt there are a hundred single women in this town.”

  “Feels like it, thanks to dear old Dad,” Hunter pointed out.

  Knox gave a firm nod. “That’s the truth.”

  Logan rolled his eyes. “Oh, you poor, poor guys. Going to a social event where you’ll dance with women and have some good food and meet new people.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Xander said. “Once you settled down with Sarah, you were able to walk along the streets of this town in peace again. You have no idea what we go through.” He grinned and held up a palm for a high five from Wilder, sitting next to him on the sofa.

  Logan threw a pillow at him, and Xander’s gaze caught on his brother’s wedding ring. Xander sure hadn’t seen that coming—the marriage—but Logan had surprised them all. Not only had he fallen crazy in love but with a single mother of a baby. Watching his older brother become a father to little Sophia sometimes stopped Xander in his tracks, stole his breath. Because it was so unexpected? Because it made Xander wonder about himself and whether he’d have a family of his own someday? A wife, a baby? Despite all his head-shaking to the contrary, the thought of a wife and child had been creeping into Xander’s head lately.

  Like at Lily’s house. When they were babysitting Sophia. When he was watching Lily with his niece. All sorts of insane ideas flew through his mind.

  Eh, he thought. One Crawford brother out of six did not mean they were all headed in the direction Logan had gone. He glanced at his brother, who always looked happy these days. Content. Purposeful.

  Logan had the lightest hair of the six Crawfords—that had to have something to do with it. The darker-haired brothers would remain single the way they were supposed to.

  While Finn and Wilder got in an arm-wrestling match, Knox and Logan betting on the winner, and Hunter confirming with his sitter what time she’d be over to watch Wren, Xander took the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. He headed up to his bedroom and shut the door on the voices and laughter in the family room.

  Two hours until the dance. Xander moved over to the window overlooking the front of the house, the pastures and fields, the cattle just standing there calming him down. He had no idea what he was so revved up about, anyway.

  Because he thought of tonight as a date of sorts? It wouldn’t be, not really. It was just a casual dance, being held outdoors at Sunshine Farm, which Eva and Luke Stockton had turned into a guest ranch last year. Sure, he’d dance with Lily once, maybe twice. He’d probably stay for a half hour and then leave.

  He’d lost track of how many women asked him to save them a dance. Except for one. The only one that mattered. Lily. Which meant maybe he should dance with a lot of women. He might have Lily Hunt on the brain but he didn’t want to.

  You followed your heart once before, and you got slammed in the gut with a sharp right hook. Punched in the head, too. Knocked out. That was how it still felt.

  Britney and Chase were married now. Just like that. They’d flown to Vegas, figuring their families and friends would stop giving them a hard time about their sudden union and how they’d betrayed “that poor Xander” if they proved they were the real deal. So they’d taken a road trip and married in a chapel in some fancy hotel.

  Xander knew this because Chase had written him; how he got his address in Montana, Xander had no clue. But Chase had sent a letter, a real letter, not an email, again saying he was sorry about what happened, that he’d mourn the end of their friendship for the rest of his life, but that he found the right woman, the only woman, and though it killed him that she was his best friend’s woman, Britney was his life.

  The letter had arrived a couple weeks after Xander had moved to Montana with his family. At the time, he’d quickly read it and almost ripped it up, but then shoved it back in the envelope and stashed it in his top dresser drawer under a pile of socks, where things went to die. Like the one photo he had of his mother. Like a photo of him, Britney and Chase at a carnival photo booth.

  Xander went to his dresser and stuck his hand under a bunch of rolled socks until he found the photo. Britney, long blond hair everywhere, Chase with his military-short cut and Xander, with his long dark hair. In one of the four little black-and-white photos, Britney was laughing uproariously at something Chase said while Xander laughed, too. Now that he thought about it, their romance had probably started that day.

  Interesting that Xander had held on to the photo. He had no idea why he had—and didn’t want to think about it right now. Back under the socks it went, the dresser door shoved shut.

  He moved over to his bed and dropped down on it, his gaze landing on his bedside table, on the old diary lying there. Xander had almost forgotten about the diary entirely. He and his brothers had been replacing the rotted floorboards in this room, which Xander had wanted because it faced the front yard and he always liked to face forward, when they found something buried. A jewel-encrusted diary with the letter A on the front. A for the Ambling A? The ranch had come with the name, and they’
d all liked it, liked the unknown history that was behind it, so they’d kept it. Plus, they were ambling men themselves, weren’t they?

  The diary was worn with time and age—and locked. Someone had buried this diary under the floorboard and had either forgotten about it or passed away. The Ambling A had been a vacant mess for decades until the Crawfords bought the property and started renovating, so who knew how long the diary had been buried under the floor. Or why. Xander had thought about trying to pick the lock, to see if there was anything interesting in the diary about the Ambling A, ranch secrets or a clue to whose diary it was, but a simple attempt to get the lock open hadn’t worked and then he just lost interest in the old journal. He wasn’t one to write down his thoughts and feelings, though maybe it would help.

  Dear Diary,

  I found the woman I was about to propose to in bed with my best friend. People suck. Love sucks. Forget the whole damned thing.

  Yup, that was how his diary would start. Then maybe he’d get to something like this:

  Dear Diary,

  There’s a redhead named Lily who has me all bewitched. She’s not my type. At all. Except for the fact that I can’t stop thinking about her or imagining myself in bed with her. So does that make her my type? I guess it does.

  Xander gave a rueful chuckle and stood up. He was losing his mind.

  While he was pulling out a shirt, he envisioned himself dancing with Lily under the stars, in the moonlight, his woman in his arms.

  His woman? He was definitely losing his mind.

  Chapter Nine

  “What?” Andrew Hunt said on a croak.

  Lily, halfway down the stairs of her house, almost took her phone out of her new little beaded cross-body purse so that she could snap a photo of her brother’s face and his priceless expression. Surprised didn’t begin to capture it as he stood in the foyer.

  Or Bobby’s. Or Ryan’s. Or her father’s.

  “What?” Andrew repeated, his mouth still dropped open, jaw to the floor.