Southern Charms

by Trana Mae Simmons

  “Don’t!” she shouted from within. “I forgot to lock the door!”

  Oh, Jesus.

  He didn’t release the doorknob, but he leaned his head against the wall and quit twisting a hair before the final click disengaged the tumblers. He probably should pound his head against the wall and shake his brains up. Release the doorknob and get the hell out of there. But the effort was beyond him at the moment.

  “Shane?” she called again. “Is that you?”

  “Yes,” he responded hoarsely, then realized she probably couldn’t hear him. “Yes,” he said more loudly. “We need to talk, Ellie.”

  “Not in here!” she shouted back. “Please. Go to the study and wait for me there.”

  He jiggled the doorknob. “Maybe I don’t want to.”

  “Don’t you dare come in here!”

  Water splashed noisily, sounding as though it cascaded over the tub rim and soaked the floor.

  Had Ellie climbed out of the tub? Leapt out of it, scared he might actually enter? Hell, he had more sense than that. Didn’t he? She was probably still sore from this afternoon.

  But was she standing there delectably naked, a waterfall sheeting down her breasts and legs? Hair swinging wildly as she searched for her towel to cover herself?

  He jiggled the doorknob again. Something thumped against the door, and the lock inside clicked into place. He could almost hear her sigh of relief through the wooden door.

  “I told you I’d talk to you in the study, Shane,” she said more calmly. “I’ll be there as soon as I dress.”

  Lifting his head, he smiled evilly at the door. “Do you think that flimsy lock could keep a man my size out of there if I really wanted in?”

  For a long, bated moment, she didn’t answer him. When she did, her voice squeaked. “Probably not,” she admitted. “But please don’t break the door down. I could never explain that to Elvina.”

  “You could unlock it and let me in yourself,” he replied logically.

  “No,” she said around a breathless gasp. “No, I don’t think I could do that. Not until we talk, anyway.”

  That much of a concession on her part satisfied him at last. Nodding, though she couldn’t see him, he turned away. “I’ll be in the study,” he called through the door.

  He walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway, into the study, where he had spent time already talking to Elvina. Debating for a moment, he finally decided to leave the chair behind the desk for Ellie and took a seat in the larger rawhide-slung chair in front. Positioning it so he could see the door, he waited.

  Need to see Ellie vied with his fear she was now repulsed by him, as Anastasia had been. He told himself all the way back to the ranch that Ellie wasn’t Anastasia, that she had already felt his scars and still made love with him. That even if she had seen the full horror of his scars while he lay exposed in sleep, she would feel sympathy rather than revulsion. The Ellie he was getting to know, anyway, or thought he was.

  The growing strength of his feelings for her nearly made him believe he could accept her sympathy, if that’s all she had to give. But not quite.

  Still, nothing refuted the fact she had left him instead of waking him. Was it because he had been insufferably rude enough to fall asleep on her, right in the middle of their discussion? Because she wanted to be alone for a while to sort out what had happened in her own mind? Or because he had inadvertently exposed his horrible disfigurement to her?

  Nothing she had felt in the scant time he allowed her fingers on his back could possibly prepare her for the actual sight of his body. Nothing had prepared him the first time he escaped his mother’s eagle eye and angled two mirrors to examine it.

  And not even his debilitating weeks of pain or his near miss with death’s specter could make him accept what he found.

  So why did he think Ellie could handle it?

  He had to change his direction of thought. Nothing would resolve itself until he and Ellie talked. For one thing, he still hadn’t decided what to do about the ranch. His being well able to afford to buy it and make it profitable again didn’t overcome the fact that he hadn’t really come here to look for investments, despite what he had said to Rockford.

  He frowned. He had misled his friend, and he had a suspicion Rockford was putting way too much credence in their discussions about Shane possibly financing a branch of the Van Zandt business in New York. Not that it wouldn’t probably be profitable in time, but like the ranch, it would need injections of funds at first. And it was possible, like the ranch, that the business expansion might fail.

  But he had been too busy finding excuses to spend time with Ellie—to somehow uncover her true identity, he always assured himself before today—to correct the mis-impressions between him and Rockford. Maybe tomorrow he should make it a point to do that.

  Shane hadn’t maintained the fortune his father left him by sinking more money in failing ventures. Once in a while he did invest in a faltering business, but he chose it carefully. Usually he only financed a loan, with plenty of collateral to repay himself if the business didn’t re-prosper.

  Don’t mess with Shane Morgan. You try any shit on Shane Morgan, he’ll shit back on you double.

  That philosophy, learned from his father, served him well. Had served him well, until now. Then he saw how a little slip of a woman gave her all to the people she cared about, even to the detriment of her own future. Saw more guts and determination, more energy and stamina in Ellie’s small package than in most men.

  Saw her as far more appealing than any other woman he had ever known or been attracted to.

  He had no choice. He had thought about that, too, when he woke alone—and damn it, lonely, out on the creek bank. Thought about it all during his lonely ride back to the ranch.

  If they got past his disfigurement and she still cared for him, he had to tell Ellie the truth and let her help him either prove or disprove her identity. Either way, it didn’t matter to him. He intended to marry her, if she would have his disfigured body.

  Damn it, over and above his loneliness when he woke up on the creek bank—a loneliness he had carried within himself ever since Anastasia broke their betrothal—he had realized he loved Ellie Parker. Loved her whether she was Ellie Parker or Cynthia Spencer.

  His only reservation—a huge one, but then he had overcome mountainous problems before in his life—was her love for this uncultured state of...Texas. Surely any woman on earth would choose the easy life he could offer her in New York over living a hard-riding, uncertain life on a ranch in...Texas.

  A little voice whispered there was another huge obstacle to building a relationship with Ellie Parker. The fact was, he had come into her life under false pretenses. If he ever had any doubts about Ellie’s integrity, the honest, sincere way she discussed their lovemaking on the creek bank with him had put those doubts to bed. She didn’t have it in her to lie about anything, even anything as potentially embarrassing as discussing their lovemaking.

  He could only imagine how wonderful a life with a women like Ellie Parker would be. No, not any woman, Ellie herself. So even if she could overlook his scars, could she overlook his deceit?

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Heart in his throat, Shane rose to his feet. Within the next few minutes, his future would be decided, his loneliness possibly over.

  Elvina entered the study, stifling a scream when she halted inside the door.

  “Who’s there?” she asked, making Shane realize he had been sitting there in the dark.

  “It’s only me, Elvina,” he hastened to say. “Sorry, I was lost in thought and didn’t realize the wall sconces weren’t lit.”

  Elvina hurried around the room and lit the three sconces, then settled in the chair behind the desk. “I hope you were thinking about purchasing the ranch,” she said with a tight smile. “But please don’t let me rush you. However, I talked with the newspaper editor this evening when I saw him at dinner in the hotel. I just wanted to find out how I could go
about advertising the ranch, if you did decide not to buy it.”

  “That was probably a good idea,” Shane said, noticing the thinning of Elvina’s lips at his comment. “I can tell you that I’m close to making a decision, but I honestly don’t know what it will be yet.”

  “That’s fair enough,” Elvina said with a sigh, leaning back in the chair. “Were you waiting in here to talk to me?”

  “Actually, I had thought to discuss a couple things with Ellie. Have you seen her?”

  “Why, yes. She was just coming out of the bathing room when Darlene and I took Rockford into the kitchen to see if Fatima would prepare us something to drink. I guess Fatima must already be in bed, though, and when I noticed the time, I shooed Rockford back to town and sent Ellie and Darlene on to bed.”

  Had he really been sitting there that long? Shane mused. Lost so deeply in thought he hadn’t heard the buggy arrive or three people enter the house?

  Yes, that could be. When his thoughts wandered to Ellie Parker, there was little room in his mind for anything else.

  He turned toward the door. “I won’t bother Ellie tonight, then,” he said. “I’ll see her in the morning.”

  Chapter 16

  As Ellie undressed, Fatima appeared in the corner of the bedroom. “My dear, you look as though you have had a wonderful day.”

  Ellie ignored her. Pandora languidly stole out from behind Fatima’s legs and stood beside the bed, issuing a meow of demand.

  “Oh pooh, Pandora. Oh, all right,” Fatima said. She waved her wand and a rug of gold sparkles swept across the floor and beneath Pandora, lifting her onto the bed. The white Persian laid down and curled its tail around its nose.

  “No wonder that cat is so overweight,” Ellie grumped. “You never let her get any exercise.”

  “Pandora is perfectly healthy,” Fatima denied. “Now, tell me how it feels to be a woman, Ellie. Tell me how it feels to be in love.”

  Ellie glared at her, half in astonishment and half in anger. “Were you out there watching us today?”

  “No. No, of course not,” Fatima assured her, calming Ellie’s anger but not her astonishment that Fatima knew what she and Shane had done—knew they had made love.

  “Then how do you know what happened?”

  “It’s written all over your face, Ellie, dear. Might I ask when the wedding will be?”

  “It won’t be.” Ellie threw her dress over the bed post and pulled on her night rail. When she glanced at Fatima again, a tight set stretched the fairy woman’s lips.

  “Why not?” Fatima asked. “That’s been my entire purpose here, you know. While I don’t have the power to read the future, I am very adept at studying a situation—two situations, really. One a man happens to be in, and one a woman who will suit him exactly is in.”

  “You guessed wrong this time. Now, if you don’t mind, I really would like to get to bed. And since you have obviously failed at your task, I assume you’ll be leaving. Goodbye.”

  Ellie pulled back her comforter, snugging it beside Pandora but not making the cat move, and slid beneath her sheet. Grabbing a pillow, she turned her back on Fatima and settled her cheek. Hopefully, the fairy woman would take the hint—no, the order—to leave seriously She didn’t need the complication of worrying about her sanity tonight. Her lost virtue already gnawed at her mind, taking up quite enough space as it was.

  She had actually been relieved when Elvina, Darlene and Rockford arrived back from their dinner at the hotel as she exited the bathing room. Been perfectly willing to accede to Elvina’s directive to go on to bed due to the late hour. She wasn’t ready yet to talk to Shane. Had they continued the vein of their conversation on the creek bank, things might have been different. However, his abandoning her to sleep, as though she were a dalliance he was done with, wasn’t easy to forgive.

  Someone sniffed as though crying, and for a second, Ellie thought the darned cat had made the noise. Just as quickly, she realized Fatima hadn’t left; she still stood over in the corner, beside the window, crying.

  Sighing in surrender, she turned back over. “Fatima, you’re not going to make me change my mind by crying. I—my word, what are you doing in my bedroom?”

  Withers glared at her. Both he and Fatima sat on the window seat in front of the open window, with Fatima’s head buried on Withers’ shoulder.

  “I am comforting the woman I love,” he told her in his prissy English tones. “You are very ungrateful, Ellie. All she has wanted to do since she came into your life is make things easier for you, and you are not being very bloody nice to her at all in return.”

  “How did you get in here?” Ellie demanded. “I didn’t hear you come through the door.”

  “My love needed me and brought me here with her magic, of course.”

  Ohmigod. So Withers did know about Fatima’s magic. A measure of relief flooded Ellie. Perhaps her sanity was intact after all.

  But—that meant the fairy woman actually could perform magic!

  “Why didn’t she go to you instead of bringing you here?” Ellie demanded. “I don’t want you in here.”

  “Perhaps she thought I might talk some sense into you, since I know Master Shane better than anyone else. But for the moment, I am utterly perturbed at you, and I don’t know if I have the patience for that.”

  “I—I—”

  “Fatima came here this evening to let you know how well-pleased she was with your blossoming relationship with Shane,” Withers interrupted. “She meant to celebrate with you, but you treated her as though she were an unwelcome intrusion. No, you treated her like a bloody unwelcome dream.”

  “I—I—”

  Fatima lifted her head. The moonlight flooding through the window illuminated her face, revealing tear tracks down her cheeks.

  “N—now, Withers,” Fatima said brokenly. “Ellie has had a very rough life so far. I guess we can’t blame her for being leery of me. No one has ever offered to give her things before. She’s always had to work so very hard for anything she got. It comes from her insecurity over being an orphan, you know.”

  “My dear, you are so forgiving and so...so giving.” Withers cupped her cheek, then kissed her nose.

  Guilt over Fatima’s true desire to do something nice for her and her own thoughtless actions filled Ellie.

  “I—I—” Throwing back the sheet, she scrambled out of bed and hurried over to Fatima. She knelt in front of her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize how I was acting. I had...other things on my mind. Please forgive me.”

  “Why, Ellie dear, that’s easy to do. Of course, I forgive you. And I’ll help you plan your wedding.”

  Ellie bit her cheek, but she couldn’t allow Fatima to carry on with this misconception. “There isn’t going to be a wedding,” she said quietly. “You’re just going to have to accept that.”

  “Ohhhhh!” Fatima buried her face on Withers’ shoulder again, and the valet glared at Ellie anew.

  “Gosh darn it!” Ellie told the two of them, rising to her feet in a rush. “You can’t just decide two people should fall in love and get married and have it happen!”

  Fatima glanced at her. “I have before.”

  “You weren’t trying to force me and Shane Morgan together before!”

  “Are you telling me you aren’t in love with Shane Morgan?”

  “Of course I am—!” Ellie bit off her words, but it was too late. Too late to keep Fatima from realizing the truth, and too late to keep her own mind—her own heart—from learning it also. Her inherent honesty made her finish the admission.

  “Of course I love him. But love and marriage don’t necessarily always go together.”

  “They surely do,” Fatima told her firmly. “Withers and I are only waiting until you and Shane are settled before we have our own ceremony. I have looked for a man like Withers for what seems like forever!”

  “You and Withers are getting married?” Ellie asked in a shocked voice. “But...but...how can a fairy woman and a.
..a—”

  “Mortal man,” Fatima supplied. “It’s not a regular occurrence, but it is done. There can be problems, but love overcomes them. Just like yours and Shane’s love for each other will overcome any problems you have. Or would overcome them, if you would give your love even half a chance.”

  “The half a chance being marriage?”

  Fatima nodded sternly.

  Ellie wandered over and sat back down on the bed. As though sensing her distress, Pandora rose and ponderously climbed onto her lap. She stroked the cat’s soft fur as she spoke.

  “Yours and Withers disparities aren’t anywhere near as insurmountable as mine and Shane’s,” she said in a low voice, “even given the fact that Shane has never indicated that he loves me in return.”

  Settling herself beside Withers on the windowseat as though she were in for a long debate, Fatima asked, “Can you name some of them?”

  “Name what?”

  “The insurmountable disparities.”

  “Those are things I should discuss with Shane, if we ever get to that point. But off the top of my head are our different backgrounds. Our different ideas of where we could be happy living. He hates Texas, you know.”

  “He—” Fatima stared at the door. “He’s coming,” she whispered. She lifted her wand, and with a flash, she and Withers disappeared.

  “Whoops,” Ellie heard off in the distance, and Pandora was gone from her lap.

  She stared at the empty windowseat for long, astounded moments. She would never—could never—get used to this magic business! Finally she became aware of the discrete tapping on her door.

  “Ellie,” Shane whispered loudly. “Ellie, please let me in. Please, Ellie.”

  The pleases were unignorable, at least in Ellie’s mind. Or was her longing to see him for the first time since this afternoon the undeniable fact?

  Whatever. She rose to her feet and padded soundlessly over to the door.

  “Ellie?”

  She reached for the doorknob, hesitated, then firmly turned it. But she only opened it a small crack, barely enough to see his face.

  “You can’t get caught in my room,” she said. “I’ll come on down to the study.”