Cinderfella by Linda Winstead Jones

newspaper coverage in every town.”
    Always the actor. “Then what are you doing here?”
    â€œI told you, fresh air, wide skies. . . . ” Nathan’s arm dropped heavily and his face fell. “My leading man quit, unfortunately taking my leading lady with him, the bastard. Shows were canceled, money refunded, and before the week was out the rest of my troupe deserted me like the seditious cowards they are.”
    â€œBroke again?” Ash asked, sure already of the answer.
    â€œCompletely.”
    They unhitched Pumpkin, and Ash offered to see to the animal while Nathan sat and rested for a few minutes. There was no need to face Verna any sooner than was absolutely necessary.
    He led Pumpkin to the barn, and Nathan followed. “So,” the refined voice broke the rapidly chilling air. “How have you been?”
    â€œFine,” Ash answered, the word a habitual response to almost any such question. How’s the wheat, Ash? Fine. How’s the family, Ash? Fine. How’s life treating you, Ash? Fine.
    â€œWell, that’s a barefaced lie,” Nathan said as he plopped his small body on a stool and leaned against the rough wall of the barn. “Fine. Hah! You’re tired and unhappy and there are circles under your eyes. You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”
    Ash turned from the horse to stare at the little man on the stool. Just like that, Nathan saw what no one else did. “Not too well,” he confessed.
    Nathan’s face was lightened by a coy smile. “You’re much like your father, you know. Your mother Lila, bless her departed soul, told me that when John was tense he would roam through the house half the night. She’d find him in your room one night, on the porch the next, in the kitchen perhaps . . . just wandering. She said she was never sure exactly what he was searching for.”
    â€œI didn’t know that.” Ash turned back to Pumpkin and began to brush her coat.
    Lila Montgomery, before her marriage, had been one of Nathan’s leading ladies. John Coleman had taken one look at her and fallen head over heels in love. She’d been playing Juliet at the time, in Lawrence. Used to such attentions, she had spurned the persistent man. Ah, but she didn’t know just how persistent this particular man could be. It had taken some courting, on John’s part, but Lila had finally fallen deeply in love with the quiet farmer. Many times Ash had heard this story, from his mother and then from his father and on occasion from Nathan, who still smarted over losing his favorite leading lady.
    All those years ago Lila Montgomery Coleman had given up the stage to come here, to this farm, but she hadn’t left her thespian friends behind. They had visited the Coleman farm over the years, for a few days or a few weeks at a time. Ash could remember his father grumbling over the odd people who’d regularly show up without warning at his door, but he would never think of turning away one of his beloved wife’s friends.
    â€œSo,” Nathan said brightly. “Before I meet this woman who was foolish enough to try to take Lila’s place, why don’t you tell me a little bit about her?”
    Â 
    Charmaine watched her mother finger the trimmings of the ballgown they’d worked on for the past week. White satin was spread across her bed, and the lights sparkled on its elaborate ornamentation.
    The gown was frivolous, most likely sinful, surely made for nothing but attracting a man and appealing to his lower instincts. Howard would despise it.
    Still, Charmaine couldn’t help but be just a little bit excited at the prospect of wearing such a beautiful garment. All her life, she’d had the best — the best clothes, the best education. The best of everything. But she’d never owned a fine gown like this one.
    She felt a little guilty for allowing herself to get giddy over something as frivolous as a gown.