The rider wore a scuffed black leather jacket, jeans and boots that had seen better days. He settled the bike and swung off.

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?

Did Eric even remember he had a brother? And what were those memories?

That was the information Peter needed most.

Peter prided himself on his ability to size up a person within the first few minutes of meeting and talking with them. Many of his business decisions had been made within a very short time. He evaluated everyone involved in a project, not just the logistics. In fact, he’d earned a reputation for lightning decisions based on how he scrutinized his opponents and associates.

That was true until three days ago.

Then he’d talked to Pastor Michael Faraday. The minister had gently pointed out that in such an important matter of family, it might not be wise to make a snap judgment. Peter’s ultimate decision was too important, surely, to rely on only a few minutes of acquaintance between Eric and himself. They should have had a lifetime of understanding between them; brothers should know each other well. But they’d been cheated of that.

According to the pastor, Eric was a very private man, not given to making friends easily. He had to give Eric time. Go slowly, Pastor Mike had advised.

Peter had been a teenager the last time he saw Eric. When Eric was only four, his mother, Faye, took him and fled from her marriage, from Peter’s father, Randall, and everything he stood for, changing their identities along the way. He hadn’t really blamed Faye. His father had created his own chaos.

After his father died, Peter expected Eric to show up to stake a claim to his healthy inheritance, but he never had. Later, it wasn’t important to wonder too closely what had happened to his brother; if Eric wanted any part in Peter’s life, he would come forward. After all, Eric and Faye knew where to find him. He wasn’t hiding. But he hadn’t known where they could be found.

Then last year…

A familiar pain crept up like a fog. Last year Peter’s only son had died of leukemia. Danny. Filled with a sorrow unlike any he’d ever known, Peter fought the tears that threatened. He felt unmanned by them, but they persisted whenever thoughts of his son surfaced. When would the pain ease?

He still grieved deeply, and guessed he always would. He’d had great hopes for Danny. Great plans.

The times he’d spent with his son were now confined to precious memories. Danny wasn’t coming back and he had to face the fact that he had no family left.

No one at all, except for Eric.

Then after months of silent suffering, he’d come out of his personal fog and finally began to look for his brother. Now he’d found him. He was elated with his hopes for a new relationship.

Yet questions haunted him. What kind of man was Eric? Did Eric grieve for his mother, Faye, who was now also dead? What had they done with their lives? Where had they lived? He wanted to know everything.

Instinctively, he trusted Mike Faraday. He’d flown to western Missouri at the suggestion of his private investigator, and set up a meeting with Pastor Mike the same day. He’d made a good choice when he decided to confide in the pastor. A good choice, indeed. Pastor Mike was a rare man of intelligence and integrity.

And Pastor Mike knew Eric. Eric Tilford— Eric Landers now. Pastor Mike had told him that Eric was a very private sort of man, but that Eric sometimes came to New Beginnings.

Sometimes he came, but not always. That was the catch.

Meeting at New Beginnings would be a neutral, nonthreatening way of sizing up Eric. Then he would know. Know what kind of man he was.

At the very least, he owed Eric his inheritance. He wanted to make it right between them, even though their separation hadn’t been of Peter’s making. But, buried deeply, he realized he wanted a brother.

Peter let out a deep sigh and steered his emotions away from the danger of falling into a deep well. Instead he thought about his evening.

He’d waited in edgy anticipation for Eric to arrive—and swallowed his extreme disappointment when he didn’t show. Set on his course of action, he stayed long enough to seem an ordinary visitor, listening in silence to Pastor Mike’s message, and waited another few moment to talk with him.

He was getting old, he decided, to have developed such patience. Fifty-two. He shook his head, wondering where the years had gone.

He didn’t usually waste his time with the kind of organization he’d attended last night. Rather old-fashioned and plebeian. Religious, too, which didn’t really interest him. It served other people better, he thought.

But after a lifetime of dealing with the inner circles of high finance and worldwide trade, and gaining acclaim for his business savvy, it didn’t hurt him, he supposed, to see how “regular” people lived their lives.

Take that Lori. She was smartly dressed, mentally sharp, and she’d mentioned being an attorney. She’d fit in anywhere. She wasn’t so different from the men and women he knew. He even had a few women like her on staff at his law firm.

While some of the men he’d been introduced to seemed to have no interest beyond the latest fishing hole or when baseball season would start, a few, such as Pastor Mike, discussed world events along with tax problems and how to chase the moles out of one’s yard. To his surprise, he hadn’t been bored.

How did one chase moles out of one’s yard? He chuckled outright because he didn’t know.

“Did you say something, Mr. Tilford?”

“No, Jackson, just thinking,” he replied. “Say, did you ever have occasion to chase moles from your yard?”

“Moles? No, sir. I live in an apartment.”

“Never mind. Just an idle thought.”

“Yes, sir.”

He fell silent again, and his thoughts returned to the company he was in the night before.

There had been that moment of comedy—right out of a slapstick movie—when Cassie spilled the coffee. Usually, he had no patience with careless waitresses—but Cassie wasn’t a waitress. She was a guest at that meeting just as he was. He’d surprised himself when he felt no ire and recognized her act of kindness for what it was when she freshened his coffee.

She certainly hadn’t known who he was. The only person he had to be careful of was that ex-model, Samantha. She might recognize him.

He suspected Cassie was a quiet woman. Her brown skirt, beige blouse and sensible shoes certainly held no spark or style. Yet unlike Lori’s sophisticated flirtation, Cassie’s green eyes had returned his gaze with an undisguised interest that was as easy to read as the newspaper. Her gaze was guileless. Something he saw there flattered him, just a little.

He’d enjoyed the surprise on her face when he did his very bad Bogart imitation, something he hadn’t done since his college days. He’d even laughed at himself for doing it.

Surprisingly, he’d actually had fun for those few moments. There had been very little to tickle his amusement in the past few years. Certainly not since Danny had passed away.

Why now? Why something so simple?

Perhaps it had been too long since he’d seen genuine interest from a woman for simply being a man. No frills, no expectations, just a thread of plain attraction.

He switched his cell phone on, and two seconds later it rang. Automatically, he reached for it. His incognito jaunt had come to an end and his business agenda and calendar demanded his immediate attention. “Yes?”

“Peter! At last!” Tony’s frustration made his tone gruff. “I’ve been calling you for hours.”

“Don’t sweat it, Tony. I’ll be there in time for our lunch meeting with Carter and Jones….”

It came to him as a certainty. He’d be back to the eastern edge of Kansas City, Missouri, for sure. New Beginnings met each week and he’d arrange to be there often enough to meet Eric, and to discover if Eric wanted to know him. He’d rather enjoyed his time spent there. Being anonymous was a new experience. Why shouldn’t he have a little fun?

Just after noon, Cassie grabbed her blue canvas lunch bag and thankfully headed toward the teacher’s lounge. Fridays the kids were always fidgety in anticipation of the weekend, and today was no exception. The weekend promised to be beautiful. They’d been so restless today she felt like tearing out her hair.

Rico was the worst—he couldn’t sit still nor keep himself quiet for more than five minutes. He agitated the other children around him on purpose.

Cassie liked the boy, and thought he needed only a little more personal attention at home. But his mother had five others at home, a busy husband and no extra time to give Rico.

If Cassie had to call Rico’s mother one more time…

She’d have to pray and think about it, Cassie decided as she swung open the teacher’s lounge door and plopped her bag on the table. Maybe she could find another way to help Rico.

“Hey, Cassie,” Jacqueline, who taught sixth-graders, greeted from the cola machine. “Did you get that notice on the visiting Oregon Trail historian for next week?”

“Hi. Yeah, I have it.” Cassie grimaced at Jacqueline’s lunch plate from the cafeteria and dug into her bag for her tuna sandwich on whole wheat. “I thought I’d do some reading over the weekend to refresh my memory of trail lore. Couldn’t hurt to be prepared.”

“Not me,” Liz Dapple remarked, scooping cottage cheese into her full, perfectly shaped mouth. Her quick glance held a bit of the usual withering pity for anyone who took their job too seriously. “I don’t plan on wasting my time on anything related to kids, school, clocks or bells. I’m going to have a luxurious dinner and a cuddle with my honey, a shopping spree tomorrow, and then a long Sunday in the park.”

A cuddle with someone loved. Cassie could picture the romantic thought.

“My weekend won’t contain anyone who doesn’t stand taller than me, either,” Amanda Smith remarked with a grin. “I do have to clean house, though. And then Dwayne and I are going to a concert with friends.”

A concert with friends. That sounded fun….

“Wish I could say the same,” Donna chipped in with a sigh. “But it’s an animated feature film for us with our kids tonight, then after some major laundry tomorrow, my hubby and I are working in the yard.”

“By the time I leave here on Fridays I’ve had enough of smart-mouthed kids,” Jacqueline said. Still in her twenties, she’d just graduated from college, and had come to the school as a substitute. “I’m going to a friend’s party down in Westport and I’ll hopefully meet some cute guys.”

“My boy Derrick and I are heading to Branson just as soon as the final bell rings,” Farley, the band teacher, said. He brushed a hand over his balding head, tapping a rhythm on his forehead. “Do a little fishing on Table Rock Lake, then take in a music show, maybe.”

Dinners, concerts, parties. It was a repeat of the litany Cassie heard every weekend, every holiday and vacation. What Cassie wouldn’t give to have what Donna had—a husband and family of her own.

“Mmm…” Her sigh sounded more like a groan. Several pairs of eyes turned her way.

“Um, I—” She shoved a pickle chip into her mouth, and mumbled, “I’m going to a—a—”

She didn’t want to call it a Bible Study. This group already thought her an immense Goody Two-shoes, and except for Donna, who was a believer like herself, most of them didn’t understand her love of Godly things and her eager spiritual journey.

Goody Two-shoes. She was so tired of that tag. Besides, she couldn’t bear another pitying glance over her reports of another quiet weekend spent alone.

“A Friday night thing at a friend’s house, then maybe an outing on Sunday afternoon with…um, someone new in my life.”

Peter came to mind, with his silver hair and his eyes the color of a summer sky. They made her insides all shivery. Cassie stopped chewing while she drifted off.

Amanda gave her a curious stare. “Cassie?”

“Someone new?” Jacqueline asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

“Uh—you could say that.” Cassie let a smile form, then picked at the remainder of her sandwich.

“Do tell,” Amanda begged.

“Cassie has a boyfriend?” Jacqueline sounded just too incredulous. It set Cassie’s back up.

“Why is that so surprising?” she wanted to know, her sudden heated look defying Jacqueline to add another remark. Then she turned to answer Amanda. “It’s too soon. There’s nothing to tell.”

Then slanting a mysterious glance at Jacqueline, she let her mouth curve. “Yet….”

Now what was she doing? Implying something that wasn’t there. Lying, Dad would call it. But she had met a gorgeous man, and he had smiled an incredible smile at her. She had exchanged conversation with him. She did hope to see him again, didn’t she? It wasn’t a lie.

She ruthlessly pushed Peter out of her thoughts. She should do something about Rico, something practical, that’s what she should be thinking about.

She’d call Rico’s mother and ask to take Rico and his two older sisters to see the National Trails museum in Independence. From the last time she’d talked to Mrs. Sanchez, she thought the harried woman would welcome the suggestion. That should give them all an outing, and it sure would beat having to make another complaining call.

However, to set things straight…

“Then again,” she spoke up in a decisive tone, “I have a different interest in another direction, too. So perhaps Sunday will turn out…oh, you know.”

Rico couldn’t be counted on to remain quiet about the excursion if they went, but she’d chance it. His two sisters were already in middle school; they were unlikely to rat on her.

“Two guys? Cassie, you flirt!” Liz teased.

Heat climbed Cassie’s cheeks. “Not really two. The one isn’t really dating material. But I’m not sure if my first choice will be in town.”

“It’s about time you met someone new,” Donna kindly remarked as she got up from the table to throw trash away. “What’s he like?”

Much too good-looking for comfort.

“Who’s the dreamboat?” Jacqueline asked.

“Oh, just someone…” Cassie mumbled, then caught herself. She spotted Donna giving the young substitute a quelling stare, pity lying in the depths of Donna’s brown eyes. Oh, no! They were doing it again!

Cassie cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “As for Peter—” she boldly named him. She didn’t know if she’d ever really see him again, but at least he was real. “I honestly don’t know yet. We’re merely at the exploring stage.”

“Well, at least tell us—is he cute?” Liz asked.

“Mmm, is he ever! He has eyes that are so blue….”

Chapter Three

Stars twinkled in the velvety heavens as Cassie reached the dark River Bluff parking lot Easter morning. It was barely 5:00 a.m. Several male figures, momentarily unidentifiable, were unloading chairs from a truck. One paused to peer at her.

“Cassie?” Pastor Mike’s voice floated her way.

“Yes, it’s me.” She hugged her blue wool jacket closer against the morning chill as she got out of her car. Her lined slacks felt comfortable for now, but she suspected she’d be glad to change them to something lighter by the time she returned home midmorning. “Can I help?”

“Sure can. Come hold this lantern high so we can see what we’re doing. We’ve a number of metal garden hooks to hold our lanterns, but we have to get them into the ground. As soon as we have more lights hung, it won’t be so dark along this rocky path.”

Cassie grabbed the camp lantern and held it high above her head. Another truck arrived with more chairs and more people. Pam and her two teenage boys piled out, saying hi, and then setting to work. As the tall garden hooks were inserted into the ground every few yards, Cassie traipsed back and forth from the truck to wherever a lantern was needed.

Pam joined her in hanging lanterns as the men passed them along the way. Cassie enjoyed the camaraderie the work created. Soft voices rose in greeting as people arrived, a few calling to tease, some offering encouragement along every step on the path, some making reverent remarks. Finally, the metallic sound of unfolding chairs ceased. Above, the chairs were set in a semicircle facing east.

Cassie, as directed, stationed herself about a third of the way up the path, where a sharp turn might create a difficulty for an older worshipper. Pam was just above her, shivering.

“I hope it warms up in the next hour,” Pam remarked. “It’s chillier than I expected.”

Cassie agreed, pulling gloves from her pocket. “I remembered to bring a blanket, just in case I might need one. Seems we’ll definitely need one.”

Pam swung her torso around to rev up her circulation. “I did, too, but the boys have them.”

“You can share mine if you want,” Cassie offered.

“Thanks. I suspect I’ll need it.”

As the sky lightened, more people streamed by on their way to the top of the bluff. Most were young twentysomethings, a number were teens and a few were families with older children. Less were older, but Cassie and Pam cheerfully leant an arm to those who needed it up the stone-filled path. Thankfully, Cassie noted that many carried a blanket or throw against the chill.

Cassie gazed up the hill when she heard the first chords of a keyboard. A lovely soprano voice began to sing a joyous song, and then an alto joined in.

“We should go,” Pam said, her head turned toward the music. They couldn’t see the singers, but their floating voices sounded wonderful. “They’re starting.”

Glancing downhill, Cassie saw the parking lot was not only filled, but overflowed. And there seemed no one left to arrive.

“Okay. Go ahead,” she said over her shoulder, starting downhill. “I’ll be there just as soon as I get my blanket out of my car.”

A low roar reached her as Cassie opened her trunk to pull out the old navy blanket she used for picnics. A moment later, a heavy black motorcycle drove up into the lot and stopped. The motor shut off.

The rider wore a scuffed black leather jacket, jeans and boots that had seen better days. He settled the bike and swung off, his hands going up to his helmet.

Cassie closed her trunk, hugging the blanket close to her chest. Was he here to join the worship service or had he stopped for another purpose? This was a public park and the rider might not know that it was in use.

Perhaps he’d like to join the service anyway. She took a step away from her car. “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, a defined mouth, a firm chin and a lock of gorgeous hair over a dark brow. Cassie felt the breath swoosh out of her. “Peter?”

“Am I late?”

“A bit.” She blinked like a starstruck schoolgirl, instantly glad she’d taken the plunge to have her hair stylishly cut and highlighted the day before. It fluffed on top, but clung at the neck. It made her look at least five years younger. “Did you have trouble finding the park?”

“No. The map and directions Pastor Mike sent me were good.”

Pastor Mike sent him a map?

“Then you must have come a long way this morning.”

“Actually, I did.” He gave a halfhearted grin. “Had some business to wrap up that kept me up till midnight two nights running, and then yesterday, I couldn’t leave before late in the day. Shall we go?” His attitude was as if it were nothing. He gestured toward the lit path as the sound of the entire congregation in song drifted down.

What kind of business kept him until midnight?

“Sure. I was just going up, but came back for my blanket.”

“Let’s go, then.”

He took her elbow as they climbed the dirt path. For a few delirious moments, Cassie imagined he did so because he thought her worthy of protection. That she was his to cherish. It was little enough to dream on, she reminded herself, a simple act of kindness. Yet she was a little old to let herself go nutty over so light a touch. And a gloved touch, at that.

Still, she let herself enjoy it.

Cassie pulled her swirling thoughts around to concentrate on the service and pointed out two empty chairs next to Pam at the rear of the crowd. They made their way to them.

A finger of sunlight shafted over the horizon as they sat down, and she felt her spirit lift high with the light and celebration. Without thought, she spread her blanket over her cold legs, distributing the ends to Pam and Peter on either side of her. Peter gave her a sideways glance, his mouth slightly tilting as he accepted his end.

Resolute, Cassie focused her gaze forward.

Christ our Lord is risen today…. A quartet reminded them in the old, meaningful song, then urged all to join.

Lord, how grateful I am to be here this day. To worship You on a hilltop. It is the greatest reminder….

Pastor Mike began his sermon. Behind him, the sunlight slowly pushed back the night. For one brief moment, a single ray lit Pastor Mike’s face.

A fitting picture, Cassie thought. There’s nothing more completely dreadful and altogether beautiful than the recounting of the resurrection story. That terrible black day, turned to three. Then glorious victory…Christ’s victory over evil when He rose from death, and His salvation made available for us all through faith….

Cassie’s heart swelled with that hope and faith. Beside her, she felt Peter grow still. Listening. Taking it all in, every word. How long had it been since he’d heard the story? Had he ever, she wondered? Or perhaps never to the point of belief?

She had no way of knowing what Peter believed. She didn’t know where he was in his own walk with the Lord, or if he’d even begun one, but she suddenly felt the need to offer up a silent prayer for him. Something about him stirred her in a way beyond the obvious attraction.

Lord, speak to him now…. Let his heart be ready….

She shouldn’t be so aware of him—but she was. It wasn’t fair that he distracted her when she didn’t want to be distracted. She barely heard the close of the service.

They rose for one last song and Pastor Mike’s gentle benediction.

“Thanks for sharing, Cassie,” Pam said, folding her end of the blanket into Cassie’s hands.

“Yeah, thanks,” came from Peter as he, too, stood and stretched. His tone dropped to a low growl. “It was very nice of you. Excuse me, please. There’s someone I need to see.”

“You’re welcome,” Cassie replied, trying not to watch him walk away. Trying not to let her disappointment of his quick abandonment show.

Cassie admonished herself. How could she feel abandoned when she barely knew the man? Besides, she’d had his company for the whole service, hadn’t she?

Pam stretched to her toes to scan the worshippers. “Now where did my boys get to? Can you see them? They promised to help carry chairs back. Then we’re off to see their dad’s parents. They don’t get out much anymore, and I try to get the boys over to see them about every week.”

“I think they’re over there.” Cassie pointed to the outer edge of the crowd where a clutch of teens stood.

“So they are. Okay. See you later.”

Cassie finished folding the blanket, gathered her purse and glanced at her watch. It wasn’t even eight-thirty, and the whole day stretched before her.

She could go to another Easter service. A more traditional one. Perhaps in the church where she and her father had gone. Yet that had little appeal.

“Are you going for breakfast?” Cassie overheard someone ask another worshipper. A woman with a family in tow, she noted.

“Yes, are you coming? We’re meeting at Chase’s, but we have to leave there no later than ten. Bill’s folks are doing dinner, it takes us an hour to drive it, and they don’t like us to be late.”

Cassie hid a sigh. This was when she missed her parents most. She had no one left to spend holidays with. No one to ask her to dinner on Easter, or any special days. Yet she was taking steps to make new friends, wasn’t she? She’d joined New Beginnings. And she found it exciting and stimulating, both spiritually and in other ways.

She looked around now as the crowd trooped down to the parking lot. Perhaps there were others who were as alone as she who wanted to spend the day together.

Recognizing Lori, Sam Talent and Bonnie Sentry from the New Beginnings bunch, she edged toward them. Perhaps they’d want to go for breakfast if they didn’t have other plans.

Before she could reach them, Cassie saw Lori make a beeline toward Peter and Pastor Mike, a bright smile spreading across her perfectly made-up face. Cassie stopped in her tracks. Should she continue? Lori might not like her interfering.

Peter, his face wearing a blank expression, nodded at something Pastor Mike said as the two men turned and started slowly from the clearing.

Cassie started forward again.

“Well, good morning, Peter,” Lori greeted in a delighted voice. “It’s very good to see you this morning. A bunch of us are heading to breakfast at Dude’s, in Westport. Why don’t you come along?”

Cassie stopped once more. Waited. She wished she was bolder, like Lori, but she couldn’t bring herself to insinuate herself on Lori’s invitation. Disappointed, she turned to head down the pathway.

A hand clamped her shoulder and, startled, she glanced up. Peter had stopped her?

Cassie’s heart started pounding. Peter’s flashing glance held a teasing command before returning to Lori.

“Sounds good to me,” Peter answered. “I missed my coffee this morning, and this woman owes me one. Don’t you, um…?”

His arm slid around her shoulders and Cassie stood perfectly still. In awe and wonder.

“Cassie,” she reminded in a murmur, her heart beating like a kettledrum.

“Are you free?” he muttered into her ear. His breath tickled her skin, and she caught a hint of expensive cologne. “Please say yes.”

“Yes.” She was being used as a rescue date, but it didn’t matter. Saying no was not an option!

Peter raised his voice to answer Lori. “Yeah, thanks. Cassie and I will join you.”

Cassie had no idea if Lori was pleased at her inclusion or not. She was too busy staring at Peter. She heard Lori’s answer as a faraway bell, but couldn’t have repeated what Lori had said if offered a thousand dollars.

“Do you know the place they’re going?” he asked with a quick wink. He slid his hand to her elbow.

“I can find it.” Oh, her voice was actually quivering. He’d think her an absolute freak.

“Where is it?”

“In Westport.”

At his blank look, she explained further. “Westport is a historical district in Kansas City. Near the Country Club Plaza. It’s a popular hangout on weekends for the, um, with-it people.”

“Ah.” He nodded, a gleam of understanding in his eyes. No doubt he was familiar with such places, Cassie thought.

Cassie had never been to any of the popular spots on a Saturday night. Dude’s was well known to draw the older singles crowd. A Sunday morning wouldn’t match what she imagined it to be like then, but she was curious enough to see it.

Several men carried the same chairs down that they’d carried up just two hours before. Cassie spied a box of song sheets, and picked it up to take down to the trucks.

“Are you coming, Pastor Mike?” Peter folded the few chairs he stood near, then hoisted a stack to carry.

“Not this morning, Peter,” Pastor Mike said. “I only have a couple of hours before our formal church service begins, and I must go home to change. Maybe next time.”

“Later?” Peter queried.

“How about tomorrow? Call the office,” the minister suggested. “I’ll be there early.”

“Good. I’ll do that.”

Cassie briefly wondered what the two men had to talk about, but she let the thought go. Then her thoughts swirled on the date she’d suddenly acquired. She was to have breakfast with Peter….

The parking lot rapidly cleared out as Peter helped load the equipment. Cassie ran back up the hill to scan the area for any trash that may have been left, then hurried back down.

Peter pulled on his leather jacket and reached for his helmet. He reminded her of a knight putting on his armor before a jousting tournament.

“Would you like to ride with me?” he asked.

Cassie paused, her car key hovering above her car door. Her mouth dropped and she felt her eyes widen. On the bike?

The motorcycle suddenly seemed to grow like a giant black insect, frightening in its unfamiliarity and remembered roar. She’d be forced to put her arms around his waist for safety…and…and hug him. The thought of climbing on the back of that monster and embracing Peter, of placing her cheek against his back as they rode, sent her into cascades of excitement.

“Are you serious?”

He ran an evaluating glance at her skirt and blouse, and then studied her face. “Actually, not this time. I have an extra helmet, but you should be wearing something more protective if we’re going very far.”

“You could ride with me,” she offered, swallowing her disappointment. Would she really have the nerve to ride on that thing?

That was her trouble, she admonished herself, and the very thing she’d promised herself to change. She’d never been very adventurous when it came to new experiences. Furthermore, her handful of high school dates had done little to prepare her for adult men.

“Don’t think that would be a good idea, do you? Leaving my bike in a park unattended for hours.”

Now was a good time to be bolder. She took a breath and said, “I don’t live too far from here. You can leave it in my drive. It would be safe there.”

“That would work.” He gave an accepting smile. “Lead the way, my lady.”

My lady. Just like a knight in a romantic novel.

Getting into her car, she sighed. Boy, would she have something exciting to tell her teacher friends when school resumed after Easter break. Even if this was only a one-time thing and she never saw Peter again. Even if this was only a pity date.

Glancing through her rearview mirror as she pulled onto the road, she made certain that Peter followed.

He waved. She smiled. Pity date, or not, she’d take it and be happy.