red rock cinderella.txt

7/27/2019 RED ROCK CINDERELLA.txt

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RED ROCK CINDERELLACHAPTER 1After a week of roughing it in the wilds, Clay Baldwin drove back to Red Rock, looking as if he'd misplaced his razor days ago and had been bathing in a cold mountain spring.

But then again, that's exactly what had happened.

He probably should have gone home so he could shower and shave before going outin public, but tonight he was too tired and too hungry to care.

For the past few days, he'd been surviving on the fish he could catchas well as the canned food he'd taken with himso he was more than ready for a hearty dinner.And what better place to find the Mexican food he'd been craving than at Red, one of the most popular restaurants in town.

He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror of his car, seeing little trace of the corporate executive who usually peered back at him. Two months ago, he would never have considered going out in public resembling a down-on-his-luckdrifter. But the scruffy, laidback look fit the new Clay Baldwin. The time he'dspent alone these past few days had changed his view on a lot of things.

Or maybe the harsh realities of life had begun to alter his perspective long before he'd loaded up his brand-new camping gear into his new Mercedes.

Clay made his way through the crowded parking lot and into the busy restaurant that had once been an old hacienda. He would have been completely unaware that itwas the holiday season if it weren't for all the lush poinsettia plants, littletwinkly lights and a huge Christmas tree with Southwestern ornaments adorning Red.

The hostess, a woman in her mid-fifties, offered him a friendly smile. "I'm sorry, sir. It'll be a bit of a wait. Our manager is having his wedding rehearsal dinner here tonight, and we're shorthanded."

Clay had known that Marcos Mendoza was marrying Wendy Fortune. He'd been invitedto the wedding, but he'd instructed his executive secretary to tell them he cou

ldn't attend the ceremonya happy occasion for some, but one that would only draghim down. He'd asked his assistant to send an appropriate gift instead.

"I don't plan to eat here," Clay told the hostess. "I'd just like to place an order to go."

"No problem." The woman reached for a notepad.

After Clay ordered the hearty carne asada plate, the hostess left him to wait inone of several seats in the entry.

He hoped he wouldn't see anyone he knew tonight since he looked more like a vagrant than a corporate executive. Besides, he wasn't in the mood to answer questio

ns about how he was feeling and where he would go from here. In truth, he was still coming to grips with the loss of his best friend and business partner, Connor Reynolds.

Two months ago, Connor had died of a massive coronary at the gym where they bothworked out. Connor had only been in his late-thirties, so his death had been atotal shock to Clay. It had also forced him to reevaluate his own life, since heand Connor had shared the same work ethic, rarely taking any time off.

Ironically, it was that work ethic that had enabled Clay and Connor to build a s



uccessful corporation and to become multimillionaires. But even though Clay hadamassed a fortune, he now realized it was worthless if he had no one to share itwith, no one to leave it to someday.

Connor, on the other hand, had left his estate to his gold-digging wife, who'd not only been cheating on Connorcausing him additional stress that had probably contributed to his heart attackbut who also thought she would step in and become Clay's new business partner. What a nightmare that would have been. She would havebankrupted the company once she got her hands on the company credit card.

Clay knew that for a fact because just after she and Connor were married she'd nearly forced Connor into the poorhouse before he canceled all his cards and hadthreatened to divorce her if she didn't stop her spending.

Fortunately, both Clay and Connor had enough foresight to include a buy-out clause when they'd first created their corporation. So before she could bankrupt hiscompany, Clay had offered the poor widow a sizable amount for her shares, whichshe'd pounced on. Now Clay owned a hundred percent of the stock shares.

When the main door to the restaurant opened, an older man in a sport jacket entered and approached the hostess. "I'm here for the Mendoza rehearsal dinner."

"It's on the patio," the woman told him.

The well-dressed man nodded, then took off to find his party.

Clay sighed. It seemed that everyone he knew was getting married or having babies these days. And after Connor's death, Clay was forced to realize that his once-charmed life wasn't all it was cracked up to be. But now that he was back in Red Rock, he was determined to settle down and create a familyif he could just finda woman who was honest and true, someone who was interested in him for more than the things he could buy or the fancy places he could take her.

When the door opened again, a petite redhead entered the restaurant, her cheeksflushed from the crisp, wintry air. She wore dark denim jeans that hugged her hips nicely and a white, long-sleeve T-shirt under a green Christmas vest.

Her pretty hair was a remarkable shade of Irish red and windblown as if she'd been walking on the moors. Yet he was even more drawn to the color of her eyes, avivid shade of emerald green, highlighted by lush, black lashes.

She wasn't what you'd call beautiful, but she was certainly appealing. And she had a wholesome aura about her.

In fact, Clay was probably looking for someone a lot like herat least, in appearance. As he studied her, a smile stretched across his face.

The hostess returned, drawing Clay from his musing when she announced, "I've placed your order. If you don't mind, I'll ring up your bill now."

Clay got to his feet and reached for his wallet. But as he felt his back hip pocket, which had pulled apart at the seams, he came up empty-handed.

Had it fallen out?

"I'm sorry," he told the hostess. "I" He reached into his front pocket and pulledout three one-dollar bills which he'd crammed in there this afternoon when he'dreceived change from a coffee shop just off the interstate. "I must have left my wallet in the car."



The hostess crossed her arms as if doubting his explanation. But before he couldrespond, the redhead stepped forward and placed her hand on his forearm, sending a spiral of heat hurtling through his bloodstream.

When he turned and caught her gaze, she offered him a sympathetic smile. "I'll pay for your meal."

Did she think he was down and out? He supposed he couldn't blame her for that. He probably looked like a transient.

He started to object, to tell her that he was far from penniless, but then thought better of it. What if his wallet wasn't in the car? He'd be embarrassed if herefused her offer and still couldn't pay the bill.

Besides, the old Clay had a habit of always picking up the tab. What would it hurt for him to accept and appreciate someone else's generosity once in a while?

As he wrestled with himself, she added, "Christmas is the season for giving." Then she offered him a shy smile and a little shrug, as if that explained it all.

And maybe for her it did. Not only did she appear to be wholesome, she apparently had a good heart as well. Clay couldn't remember the last time an attractive woman had made an offer like that without expecting anything in return from him.So he was reluctant to let her get away before he learned more about her.

"Thank you," he said. "That's very kind of you. Would you mind if I told the kitchen to put a hold on my order?"

The redhead cocked her pretty head to the side, clearly perplexed by his question.

If she knew him better, she would realize that he hadn't become a very successful businessman by relying on chance and letting the chips fall where they may. Hemade things happen.

"Christmas isn't a time to be alone, either," he said. "And if you're here by yourself, I'd like you to eat with me."

As she pondered his comment, his pulse rate soared.

She placed her hands on her hips and looked him up and down. "Normally I'd say no."

And under "normal" circumstances, he wouldn't want an attractive woman to thinkhe only had three dollars to his name. But nothing seemed the least bit ordinaryabout this evening.

And for one wild and crazy moment, the redhead held a bit of holiday magic in the palm of her hands.CHAPTER 2

Ella Stewart studied the stranger who'd asked her to join him for dinnerand on her dime.

With her current financial outlook what it was, she shouldn't have stopped for take-out food in the first place, let alone offered to pay for someone else's meal. But as she'd reminded him, it was the Christmas season, and it seemed only right to help someone who was less fortunate than she was.

"What do you say? Should I let the hostess know we'd like a table for two?" Hiseyes, a mesmerizing shade of blue, gazed at her as though her agreement might ch



ange his bad luck to good with a nod of her head.

She nearly laughed at that, since her own ship had yet to come in. And if truthbe told, it seemed to be sailing farther and farther out to sea. But what wouldit hurt? Since Aunt Aggie was having dinner with one of her nephews, the alternative was for Ella to eat alone in front of the television. So she said, "Sure. Why not?"

The man said something to the hostess, who then left her post. When she returneda moment later, she smiled. "There's one last table in the courtyard. Apparently, the couple I'd seated there earlier decided it was too cold and went into thelounge to eat."

"How cold is it?" Ella wondered if she was dressed warm enough to sit outdoors.

"It's a little chilly," the hostess admitted, "but we have heaters."

Ella glanced at the down-and-out stranger, who offered her a wide grin. His eyesglimmered in a way that made her want to look beyond his worn clothing and hisscruffy beard to the man beneath.

"Okay," she said. "That works for me."

The hostess led them to the quaint courtyard, with a rustic old fountain, its wa

ter gurgling. The soft sounds of mariachi music coming from another room made the setting even more romantic than it might have been otherwise.

They took a seat at a small pine-wood table for two, and moments later, a busboybrought them glasses of water, as well as two types of salsa and a woven basketcontaining chips.

"My name's Clay," he said. "What's yours?"

"Ella." She was glad he hadn't shared his last name. They were clearly on the same page about what their dining together meant. On a night when so many couplesand families were out on the town or nestled together at home, they wouldn't have to be alone. Something told her she and this man might be kindred spirits in a

way, always standing on the outside looking in.

"So what brings you to Red?" she asked.

"I was hungry, and there wasn't much in the fridge or the pantry."

She wondered if he'd really left his wallet in the caror if he even had a vehicle. But she let it go. It really didn't matter. They would share a meal, give eachother some company, then go their separate ways.

"So what do you do for a living?" she asked, making small talk.

He hesitated, and she realized that if he was between jobs, the question had bee

n a low blow. As a sense of awkwardness hovered over the table, he finally said,"I'm in sales. How about you?"

She wished she could claim to be a doctor or schoolteacher or lawyer. But she'dnever gone to college, something she now regretted.

"Actually, my job is ending after the holidays, so I'm looking for work."

He leaned forward, as if he knew of an open position. "What kind of experience do you have?"



She smiled and gave a little shrug, deciding to own up to it. "I've done it alldog walking, house sitting, waitressing, working at a day-care center. Right now,I'm taking care of my elderly great-aunt, but that's soon going to change."

Again, he gazed into her eyes intently, as if everything she said mattered.

As if she mattered.

It was a welcome feeling for Ella, particularly after the past few months. She'dbeen begging Fred, the trustee of her aunt's trust, to reconsider his decisionto sell the house and move Aunt Aggie into a retirement home, but she might as well have been pleading with a tree stump. None of her relatives would listen toher, and she'd begun to feel like a second-class citizen, at least in her own family.

"Why?" Clay asked. "Is your aunt ill?"

Ella paused, wondering how much to share with a stranger, then decided a man she'd never see again was probably safe. Besides, it was nice when someone asked her opinion without accusing her of having ulterior motives.

So she told it like it was. "No one expected my aunt to live to be eighty-four,and the nest egg meant to last through her golden years has dwindled away. The h

ouse needs a new roof, as well as new wiring and plumbing. So her nephew has decided to sell it, rather than fix it up. And he's planning to put her in an assisted-living facility."

"How does your aunt feel about that?"

"She's not happy. And neither am I. She's really spunky, and I think that movingher out of the only home she's had for more than sixty years is a bad idea. Butshe's not my mother, and I have no say about any of it."

"I can't imagine anyone ignoring your opinion, especially since you're the one who lives with your aunt. If I were the nephew, I'd welcome your thoughts."

His understanding, his vote of confidence, settled over her like a balm. How nice to have someone in her corner for a change.

Ella reached for a chip, but as she pulled her hand back, the delicate antique bracelet Aggie had given her this morning snagged on the basket and caught.

"Oh, no." She hated to pull it free. The chain was old and delicate.

"Here," Clay said. "Let me."

He placed one hand on her wrist, spiking her heart rate and sending a surge of heat zipping through her blood. Then he fingered the silver chain with the other.

"This is an interesting piece of jewelry."

As much as the gift had meant and as touched as she'd been when Aunt Aggie had given it to her, she couldn't seem to focus on anything but the stranger's gentlegrip, of the heat of his touch, the tumble of her heart.

"It's an heirloom," she finally said. "It's been in the family for years." Thenshe added, "Please be careful." But she was talking about more than the piece ofjewelry.



"Don't worry." And true to his word, moments later and after a little tug, he pulled it free.

"Thank you." Ella rubbed her wrist, more to massage the spot that still buzzed from his touch, even after he'd let go.

"It sure is sparkling in the candlelight," he added.

She held it up to the candle burning on the table, noticed the shine. "My aunt had it cleaned at a local jewelry store the other day, then asked them to place it in a small velvet box, just to make it appear more valuable. But as far as I'mconcerned, this bracelet is worth more to me than anything in that store."

He took her hand, setting her heart on edge all over again. "It's beautiful. Andso are youinside and out." Then he caught her gaze and shot her a dazzling smilethat took her breath away.

In spite of his ragged appearance, there was something very appealing about him.In fact, if he shaved and put on a dress shirt and a pair of slacks, he'd makethe perfect date. Not that she'd had many guys ask her out in the past few years.

So who was this man?

And what was he doing to her?

Her mother had always said that it was just as easy to fall in love with a richman as it was a poor man. But Ella wasn't so sure about that. Not when she foundherself yearning to lose herself in her dinner companion's eyes.

But how involved should she get with a man whose future wasn't any brighter thanhers?

She'd better end the evening before she lost her head and got in too deep. She knew very well what the cost of that would be. She'd been devastated by a relationship that hadn't worked out in the past. But even more than that, she'd been let down by Fred, who'd made promises to her he hadn't kept.

If a woman couldn't trust family, whom could she trust?

So as Clay tossed Ella another heart-thumping smile, she plotted her escape.CHAPTER 3Dinner with Ella had been an unexpected delight. And while Clay would have givenanything to have an ice-cold Corona with his meal, he wouldn't take any furtheradvantage of her offer to spring for dinner when she was losing her job and probably couldn't afford it.

So, for that reason, he'd requested water to drink. He'd also ordered two tacos àla carte instead of the heartyand more expensivecarne asada plate he'd decided onearlier.

It was one thing to let Ella believe he was struggling to make ends meet, but there was no way he'd let her pay a hefty bill when a smaller one would do. Even then, he would make it up to hersomehow.

He risked another glance across the table, noting the way the candlelight glistened along the glossy strands of her hair, the way her expressions danced acrossher face, telling him that there were no secrets behind her smile, no hidden agendas.



From the first moment he'd laid eyes on her, she'd intrigued him. And her appealhad only grown stronger with each minute he'd spent in her company.

"The food is good here, isn't it?" She looked up from her plate and smiled.

"It's the best." Yet it was more than the food making him glad he'd stopped by Red tonight. It was Ella herself.

She reached across the table and placed her hand over his, warming his blood andstirring up emotions he'd never realized he had, like faith and hope and maybeeven love.

Then she smiled at him, revealing a pair of dimples that turned him inside out."Things are going to really look up for you in the New Year."

They'd perked up alreadyright this minute, in fact, with her gazing at him as ifshe knew the future, as if she really did hold a bit of magic in her hands.

He marveled at her optimism, at the sensual lilt of her voice. At the serendipitous way in which they'd met.

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Because your luck is going to change, Clay. I can't tell you how I know it, but

I do."

Oh, his luck had changed, all right. He couldn't quite explain it, either, yet he also knew it to be true. And he wasn't talking about his finances. He was talking about everything that truly mattered in life, those things he'd tried to prioritize while he'd been camping. The ones that had begun to really fall into place this evening. A lasting relationship with a woman that was built on love, ontrust, on truth.

Like the truth of your net worth? His conscience rose up, prodding him to come clean. He'd always been honest in his relationships, whether they were business or personal.

But he couldn't do it. Not until he had more time with her, not until he knew for sure that her magic wasn't just smoke and mirrors. He sensed that Ella wouldn't be swayed by his wealth, that her interest in him was realbut Connor had thought that way, too, and his wife had played him like a fool.

And Ella was interested in him, all right. He'd noticed her stealing glances athim all during dinnerand once, when he'd caught her flat-out, she'd flushed and looked down at her meal.

The pheromones that had been swirling around him all evening had been buzzing around her, too.

At that moment, the waiter brought their checkand with it the awareness that thei

r evening together was ending. Clay noted a change in her expression, a mood change maybe.

Was she, like him, sorry to see their evening end?

Clay fought the compulsion to reach for the check, to lay his credit card downwhich wasn't available since it was in his wallet, and hopefully, in his car. Yet he let Ella take the bill instead.

"Thank you," he said.



She tossed him a carefree smile. "You're welcome."

A man who'd come from behind Clay moved past the tableprobably on his way to themen's room.

Clay hadn't needed to see J.R. Fortune's face to recognize the tall rancher witha lanky swagger and a head of blond hair. The two of them not only had a business deal in the works, they had become friends, too.

When J.R. returned through the courtyard, he'd be facing Clay and would undoubtedly stop to say hello. But that would blow Clay's cover before he was ready.

Deciding to find J.R. first and ask him to play along, Clay lifted his napkin, blotted his mouth, then said, "Would you excuse me, Ella? I'll be right back."

"Of course."

As Clay headed for the men's room, Ella's cell phone rang.

He didn't think anything of it until he got back to the table several minutes later and found Ella gone.

For a moment, he thought that she, too, had gone to the restroom. But then he sa

w she'd left twenty-five dollars in cash next to the bill and a note scribbled on a cocktail napkin.

Clay, I'm sorry I had to leave. Thanks for the company. Wishing you the best, Ella.

That was it? She'd left without saying goodbye? Without leaving a phone number or telling him her last name?

Every last bit of luck Clay had ever seemed to have drained right out of him, leaving him unbalanced and at a loss.

She was gone?

Clay scanned the courtyard and beyond, looking for the woman who'd promised to be more than a passing fancy, but he didn't see hide nor tail of her.

When he turned back to the table, he spotted her bracelet lying next to her discarded napkin, glistening in the candlelight. He picked it up, noting that the delicate chain was brokenmaybe from when it had caught on the basket earlier this evening.

Would she notice it was missing before she got home? Would she come back for it?

Yet one question was even more pressing of all: Would he ever see her again?

Yes, he told himself. He had to find her. And not just to return the heirloom.

He took the bill as well as the cash, and carried it to the hostess, who was also the cashier. "Did you notice the woman I was with?"

"Yes. She went outside."

"How long ago?"

"Two or three minutes."



Damn. Why had he taken precious time to ask J.R. about the upcoming wedding? Whyhad he even left the table at all?

Just minutes ago, he'd found a new direction for his life. And now?

Clay went to the door and peered into the parking lot, but he didn't see Ella getting into her car. In fact, there weren't even any vehicles pulling onto the street.

She was really gone.

But where?

He took a moment to wrap his mind around his loss, then he rallied. Whenever hewanted something, he went after ita trait that had worked well for him in business. And one he hoped would work for him now.

He opened his hand and peered at the bracelet that lay in his palm. The heirloomshe'd left behind wasn't much to go oncertainly not a glass slipperbut Clay Baldwin knew what he wanted.

And his heart was set on finding his Cinderella if it was the last thing he did.CHAPTER 4

While Ella had eaten dinner with Clay last night, she'd tried to conjure a reason to leave before he had a chance to ask her out or to assume that sharing a meal together had meant more than either of them had expected it to.

She couldn't risk another disappointment, especially when Fred's lies and brokenpromises had just about crushed her.

Then a phone call from Aunt Aggie had provided her with the perfect excuse.

Aggie's nephew Fred, the oldest and most selfish of the two, had dropped her offat the house without waiting to see if she got inside safely. But when the older woman had reached the door and dug through her purse, she hadn't been able tofind her key.

Instead of calling Fred and asking him to come back, she'd called Ella. "There'sno need for you to rush home to let me in, dear. I have a sweater. I'll just wait on the porch until you get here."

"I'm just paying the bill now, Aunt Aggie. I'll be there in five minutes."

After ending the call, Ella had left the money to cover the check and a tip on the table, as well as a note for Clay, explaining that she had to leave unexpectedly. Then she'd dashed out the door and climbed into her car before he could return from the men's room.

There was something cowardlyand probably even tackyabout ducking out while he was

away from the table, but if he'd gazed at her one more time as if she was the only woman in the world, she might have completely lost her head and started putting more stock in him as a Well, as a romantic interest. And she had no business getting involved with anyone until she landed a new job and found another place to live.

After all, she'd promised herself that she would become self-sufficient and never be reliant on anyone else ever again for her future security. And that was a vow she meant to keep.



She'd only driven a couple of blocks from the restaurant when Aunt Aggie had called again, saying she'd found her key after all. But Ella had continued home.

When she'd entered the old Victorian, she found her auntie sitting in the rockerand watching the evening news.

"How was dinner?" Ella asked.

"It was okay. Fred doesn't ever have much to say, but he took me to the Peking Palace, my favorite restaurant."

"I like that place, too."

"Then you'll be happy to know that I brought home the leftovers. If you're hungry, they're in the refrigerator."

"Thanks, but I had a taco salad at Red this evening." Ella placed her purse on the bottom step of the stairway.

"I really wish you would have come to dinner with us," Aggie added. "You could have kept the conversation going."

Ella would have rather had a root canal than sit across the table from the man who wanted to move his aunt into assisted living, especially since his reasons fo

r doing so were selfish. The old Victorians on Bluebonnet Lane had increased exponentially in value over the past two years, so it was no mystery why he'd put Aggie's house up for sale.

But the cost of assisted living would be more expensive than keeping Aggie at home, even with the expense of repairs, so Ella suspected something other than Fred's greedy side was behind his plans: he was tired of caring for his aunt. He denied it, of course, but he'd lied to Ella in the past, and she wouldn't put it past him now.

Ella had asked him to reconsider his decision to sell, but he'd told her it wasn't any of her business. He was the trustee of Aggie's family trust, and he'd doas he saw fit.

Sadly, the fact that the elderly woman had practically raised Ella's mother andbeen like a grandmother to Ella meant nothing in the legal scheme of things.

"I really wasn't in the mood for Chinese food," Ella told Aggie. "And you don'tget many chances to spend time alone with Fred."

Aggie let out a little "humph" and gave a half shrug, which left Ella to wonderif Aggie might have preferred a dental appointment this evening, too.

But she couldn't blame Aggie for that. Fred was asking her to leave the only home she'd known for nearly sixty years, even though she was still spry, fairly healthy and as sweet as ever.

Ella loved looking out for Aggie and would have done so out of love and loyalty,even if Aggie's nephews hadn't paid her a small stipend. And while the room andboard increased the value of her earnings, she could make a lot more money working elsewhere.

But Ella never had put that much stock in money, although she wished that weren't the case now. If she had the funds, she'd purchase the house herself and let Aggie live here as long as she wanted.



She turned to her aunt and smiled. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"No, thanks. I had more than enough with dinner." Aunt Aggie cocked her silver-haired head to the side. "You're not wearing the bracelet I gave you. Did you putit away?"

Ella lifted her arm, noticed her bare wrist, gasped and uttered, "Oh, no!"

Had it fallen off in the car? Or maybe at the restaurant?

Her stomach lurched. What if she'd dropped it while dashing through the parkinglot to her car? What if someone had run over it or found it and claimed it as their own?

She hated to admit that she'd lost something so valuable, so special. But it wasobvious that she had, and there was no way she'd deceive her aunt. "I had it anhour ago, Aggie. I'm going back to Red. I'm sure I'll find it."

After searching the car first and coming up empty-handed, she drove to the restaurant and spoke to the acting manager, who told her no one had turned it in.

"You should call back tomorrow," he said. "We have a janitorial service that comes in after we close. I'll tell them to keep an eye out for it."

She nodded, then went out into the parking lot and searched the ground to no avail. With her heart heavy, she drove home. Fortunately, by the time she arrived,Aggie had already gone to bed, so the confession could wait.

The next day, Ella waited until late morning to call Red and ask if her bracelethad been found, but it hadn't.

And now, as she hung up the telephone, she tried to find the words to tell Aggiethat it was lost forever. It would be so much easier to lie, to say Ella had put it in the safe deposit box at the bank, but lying went against her grain, no matter how difficult the truth might be.

Before she could head for the kitchen, where Aggie was preparing lunch for the t

wo of them, the doorbell rang, giving her a momentary reprieve.

She crossed the room and swung open the door, then gasped. There, standing on the stoop, was the man she'd had dinner with last nightshaved, fresh from the shower and wearing a crooked grin that nearly dropped her to her knees.

She wanted to ask what he was doing here and how he'd found her, but in the myriad emotions, the least of which was surprise, she was speechless.CHAPTER 5Clay couldn't help but smile as he gazed at Ella, her eyes wide, her lips parted.

"It took a little detective work," he said, "but I found you."

She bit down on her bottom lip and furrowed her brow.

Uh-oh. He didn't want her to worry that he might be a stalker, so he raised hishand and unfolded his fingers, revealing her bracelet.

She glanced at the heirloom, then back at him, tears flooding her pretty green eyes. "Oh, thank goodness. You found it."

Then she carefully took the bracelet from his outstretched palm.



"One of the links is broken," he said, "which caused it to fall from your wristduring dinner. I noticed it on the table."

She studied the damaged chain, then fingered the family heirloom as if it were apriceless relic. And to her it was, at least in sentiment.

When she looked at him again, her expression morphed from one of surprise to wonder. "Thank you for taking the time to return it. But how did you find me?"

"You mentioned that your aunt had recently taken the bracelet to be cleaned, soI went to every jewelry store in town until I located a jeweler who recognized it." And once he had Agatha Stewart's name, it hadn't taken much effort to trackdown the woman and the great-niece who lived with her.

"I don't know how to thank you," Ella said, swiping a tear from her cheek.

Just seeing her again and having an opportunity to ask her out was thanks enough. "Dinner last night was a nice trade-off."

She paused a beat, then glanced out into the streetlooking for his vehicle, he figured. But she wouldn't find it. He'd parked his new Mercedes three blocks away,hoping to continue his "poor man" charade, at least for a while longer.

Moments before Clay had arrived at Ella's house, he'd received a call from the attorney representing Connor's widow. Apparently, the gold digger was hoping foranother cash settlement to keep her from suing for the stock she still felt entitled to. It just went to show that money brought out the worst in some people.

"Did you walk all this way?" Ella asked him.

"Walking is good exercise. Besides, it wasn't all that far."

Again his conscience tweaked, but he shook it off. He wasn't ready to tell her the truth yet. His heart and hormones might think it was possible to fall in loveat first sight, but he was a man of reason and knew better than that.

Ella swung open the door and stepped aside. "Please, come in. Aggie and I are making sandwiches for lunch. Can I offer you oneeither turkey or ham and cheese?"

"Either sounds good to me."

After he entered the house and closed the door, he followed Ella into a cozy kitchen with yellow walls and old-style white appliances. An elderly woman, who hadto be Ella's aunt, stood at the counter with a loaf of bread, lunch meat and condiments.

Ella made the introductions, calling Clay "a friend" and explaining to her auntthat Clay had found the bracelet and returned it to her.

Aggie brightened, although she seemed to be more excited to see Clay than the missing heirloom. "You're just in time for lunch, young man. Have a seat at the table."

Clay thanked her, then complied. "But you'll have to let me do the dishes or something in return." Clay might be playing the role of a poor man, but he wasn't going to continue to let Ella feed him.

"Actually," Ella said, "there is something you can do for us. Do you have any plumbing skills?"



The question took him aback. "Well, that depends. What seems to be the problem?"

"Our garbage disposal isn't working, and the sink has been plugged up. One of Aggie's nephews was supposed to either come by or send someone to fix it, but Well,it's been several days, and he hasn't gotten around to it yet."

That sounded simple enough. Clay's dad had been a handymanone of the best in townand he'd insisted that his sons learn a few tricks of the trade.

"I'd be glad to take a look at it," he said.

"And after you do that," Ella added, "we have a lot of other things that need doing around here. If you have the time, we'd be more than happy to pay you for your trouble."

So she really was under the impression that he had no car and was out of work. He supposed the faded jeans he'd chosen to wear, along with the "lucky" shirt he'd kept since his freshmen days at college, had her further convinced.

Again, his conscience urged him to set her straight, but the whole down-on-his-luck thing was working for him. Plus, it gave him the opportunity to spend more time with her.

So after they'd eaten a pleasant lunch, Clay asked Ella if she had a wrench he could use to loosen the pipes, as well as a bucket to catch the dirty water. While she went to get the things he needed, he removed everything from the cupboardunder the sink so he had access to the drain.

Minutes later, he'd cleaned out the pipe that had been plugged and prepared to put the plumbing back together again.

"I don't suppose I can get one of you ladies to empty this bucket for me," he said, still stretched out on his back under the sink and reaching for the wrench.

"I'll do it," Aggie said.

But instead of taking the bucket outside or to the laundry room, she emptied itinto the kitchen sink, where the dirty, stinky water poured through the open pipes and splashed onto Clay's face and shoulders.

"Oh, no," Ella cried out, when she realized what had happened. "I'll get a towel."

"Goodness," Aggie said. "I'm so sorry, Clay. I just Well, I guess I wasn't thinking clearly."

Clay, his face and chest sopping wet, climbed out from under the sink, glad he hadn't blurted out an obscenity. "It's okay, Aggie. No harm, no foul."

"Here," Ella said, handing him a towel to dry his face. "Why don't you let me show you to the bathroom where you can wash up."

Clay would have told her that it didn't matter, but that dirty water had been nasty. So he followed her out of the kitchen, down the hall and to an open doorway.

Once inside the small room, he turned on the faucet and waited for the water towarm. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ella lean against the door frame andhe turned to her, his gaze locking on hers. Something stirred between them. Sexu



al awareness, for sure. And a yearning to explore it.

Rather than broach the subject, he turned back to the sink and rinsed his face,using the bar of soap on the counter.

Ella came closer and handed him a fluffy blue towel. "I'm so sorry. She gets a little scattered sometimes."

"Don't worry about it." Clay chuckled. "Those things happen."

"I know, but, if it's all the same, I'm sorry it had to happen to you." She offered him a pretty smile, then added, "If you'll give me your shirt, I'll rinse itout and throw it in the dryer."

"All right. Thanks." Clay peeled off the wet material, but as he began to hand it over, Ella's lips parted and her gaze sketched over his bare chest.

She swallowed, as though finding it difficult to speak, to move.

And the awareness, the yearning, returned full force. They stood frozen for a moment, caught up in a swirl of sexual attraction andwell, who knew what else.

But this time, it was impossible to ignore. It might be a risky or crazy move for him to make, but Clay couldn't help doing what seemed like the most natural th

ing in the world.

He placed his hand along her jaw, brushed his thumb across her cheek, then lowered his mouth to hers.CHAPTER 6As Clay's thumb stroked Ella's cheek, his gaze locked on hers, Ella's heart raced in anticipation. And when he lowered his mouth and kissed her, she dropped hiswet shirt to the floor and placed her hand on his waist.

As their lips met and his tongue sought hers, the kiss deepened until she thought she would melt into a puddle at his feet.

For a moment, she not only forgot where they were, but who they werestill strange

rs to each other. Yet nothing seemed to matter other than this magical moment intime. And when the kiss finally ended, leaving her craving so much more, she didn't think she'd ever be able to breathe evenly again.

"I'd wondered how kissing you would feel," he said.

She'd wondered the same thing, especially when she'd caught sight of him withouta shirt.

And now they both knew exactly how it feltstar-spinning, earth-shaking. Andpromising. Which made no sense. After all, she'd only just met him yesterday. And he'dbeen very light on details of his life.

"You look a little uneasy," he said.

To say the least.

"I, uh" She stepped back, then bent to retrieve the wet shirt she'd dropped. "I'dbetter rinse this and get it in the dryer."

Yet instead of moving, she remained rooted to the spot, as the bathroom walls seemed to close in on her, on them.



Her gaze, which had been locked on those stunning blue eyes of his, lowered to his bare chest, a sight that had triggered that amazing kiss in the first place.Yet she couldn't help taking a second look at the magnificent perfection of hisbroad shoulders, well-defined pecs and six-pack abs.

Oh, for Pete's sake. She'd been ogling him. Had he noticed?

She risked a glance at his face, where a crooked grin lit his eyes.

Shaking off her embarrassment and ignoring the heat that had undoubtedly flushedher cheeks, she nodded toward the doorway. "I'd better get out of here, or yourshirt will never dry."

Then she turned and headed for the laundry room, more than ready to put a littledistance between herself and the sexy stranger she still knew way too little about.

When she got as far as the kitchen, Aggie had just finished mopping up the waterfrom the floor.

"Don't worry about that," Ella said. "Sit down and relax. I'll take care of themess."

Aggie pulled out a chair, but before taking a seat, she smiled and said, "Your y

oung man is very nice."

"He's not my 'young man.' We're just friends."

Of course, friends didn't kiss the way they had just moments before. And as muchas she'd like to forget what had happened, she had a feeling she'd be dreamingabout it long after Clay went back to wherever he'd come from.

After rinsing out the shirt and putting it in the dryer, Ella returned to the kitchen.

"You know," Aggie said, "if Clay is a handyman, we could certainly use him around here."

Ella supposed he might like the extra work, but was it a good idea to invite himinto their lives? After all, what did she know about him?

Not much. And even when you thought you knew someone, she reminded herself, theycould still prove to be someone else entirely. At one time, she'd thought of Fred as a father, only to have him show how selfish he really was, leaving her nearly destitute and with no say in her life or Aggie's.

"Do you think we should ask Clay if he would be interested in a side job?" Aggieasked.

"I'm not sure."

"Well, I hope he would be. Fred never seems to take any of my complaints seriously. He'd rather sell the house than make any more repairs. And it breaks my heart to let it go."

Ella crossed the room, placed her hand on Aggie's shoulder and gave it a gentleand affectionate squeeze. "It breaks my heart, too."

"It can't be helped, I suppose." Aggie let out a weary sigh. "But this house could be so beautiful againif we had the money to renovate it."



"I know, but the truth is, neither of us can afford to do much more than we already have. And so we should let the new owners worry about any repairs and renovations."

Sensing the presence of someone else, Ella looked up to see Clay standing in thedoorwaybare chest and all. Goodness, if she had something that might fit him, she'd offer it to him, just to save herself from fawning over him like a lovesickadolescent.

"Did you hear what we were saying?" Aggie asked.

***

Yes, Clay had pretty much heard it all, especially the part about how much Aggieloved the place and hated to move, but he didn't want to admit that he'd not only been deceiving Ella, but eavesdropping, too.

So he said, "Just that you might be in need of a handyman."

"That's what I meant," the elderly woman said. "Would you be interested in having a side job?"

Clay shot a glance at Ella and tried to gauge how she felt about having him arou

nd more often, especially after that heated kiss they'd shared.

She'd seemed pretty shaken by it, but then again, why wouldn't she be? When they'd come up for air, he'd been so amazed and aroused by it that he'd been afraidhe'd lose his head and say something he might live to regretlike, "I could fall for you."

That might be true; he was certainly feeling something for her. But he didn't want to make a mistake by opening up his heart too soon to the wrong person.

Sure, there was something powerful brewing between themand love might be just around the corner, but he wouldn't make any confessions about the depths of his emotionsnot to mention any claims of wealthuntil he knew without a doubt that she was

the woman he hoped she was.

"We do have a few odd jobs that need to be done," Ella said. "But we can't afford to pay very much."

"If we did have the money," Aggie added, "we'd hire a contractor to renovate thehouse, like several of the other people on the street have done. But since we don't, my nephew would rather sell than to spend any money on improving the value."

Clay had noticed the For Sale sign on the front lawn when he'd arrived.

"What's your nephew have to do with it?" Clay asked.

"He's the executor of my estate, and I made him the trustee a couple of years ago. Back then, he seemed to be a lot more understanding, more sensitive to my wishes."

"Did you tell him that you'd rather stay here?" Clay asked.

"Yes." Aggie's voice softened. "But he thinks it's best if I move to an old folks' home. He says I'll be happier there, but I know he'd just rather not bother with the houseor with me any longer."



"I'd buy it myself," Ella said. "It breaks my heart to think of you leaving."

"I'm an old woman," Aggie said. "I can't blame Fred for not wanting to take careof me anymore."

"Is your trust irrevocable?" Clay asked.

"I'm not sure," Aggie said. "Why do you ask?"

Because Clay had a top-notch attorney who'd drawn up his own trust, and it was possible Aggie could still make changesif she wanted to. But maybe it was best ifhe didn't get involved, so he said, "I was just curious. Sometimes, those trustscan be changed. Maybe you should talk to your attorney."

Aggie seemed to think on that for a while.

"Either way," Ella said, as she turned to Clay, "would you be interested in helping us with a few fix-it projects?"

She was giving him permission to come back? To see her on a regular basis?

A grin tugged at one side of his lips, but he forced a serious expression. "Yes,I'd be glad to. But I can't show up until after eleven each day." He'd schedule

d interviews at the office all this week, hoping to find someone who could takeon the projects Connor had been working on when he'd died.

"Why can't you come any earlier?" Ella asked. "Aren't you a morning person?"

Actually, Clay was up each day at the crack of dawn, but he paused, thinking outhis answer. He wanted to be as truthful as possible, so he'd have to remain vague. "I've got somejob interviews lined up."

"Well, good luck," Ella said. "I hope you find the perfect position soon."

Something told him he'd found perfection already. After all, everything he'd seen so far clearly showed that Ella had a kind, loving and loyal heart. And she wa

sn't overly concerned about money and what it might provide her.

All he needed was a little more time with Ella, then he'd know for sure.CHAPTER 7Just as he said he would, Clay stopped by Ella's house the next morning around eleven, and he continued to show up at the same time for the next two weeks, ready to do whatever they needed him to do.

He fixed leaky faucets, repaired broken electrical outlets, mended shutters andeven mowed the yard and trimmed the big tree out front.

He took a liking to the place and began to come up with ways to renovate the oldVictorian. And today, after he helped Ella take down the holiday decorations, h

e suggested that they paint the exterior.

"I'm afraid that would be way too costly," Ella said.

"Who knows," Clay said. "Maybe you'll win the lottery."

"Yeah, right." She cast him a pretty smile, and it took everything he had not towrap his arms around her and kiss her senseless. To tell her that her worries were over.



With each day he spent with her, he became further convinced that he'd fallen inlove with herand that she'd probably had his heart from that first night he'd met her at Red. After Connor died, Clay had wanted to change his life because it had felt empty, but now that he'd met Ella, he'd found a sense of purpose and more.

In fact, he'd almost told her yesterday how much she'd come to mean to him, buthe'd held off.

He knew she felt something for him, too. And that those feelings were for the man he really wasand not for the lifestyle he could provide her.

But yesterday, when he'd made an offer to purchase Aggie's house, he'd heard something that caused him to continue exercising a little caution.

His real estate agent had mentioned that Fred Stewart, the man selling the property, had said his niece, who currently lived in the house, wasn't to be trusted.She wanted to remain living with Aggie for free, when the woman was getting senile and needed round-the-clock care.

Clay had remembered the episode with the dirty sink water. But nothing he'd seensince indicated it wasn't safe for Aggie to live on her own.

He'd also wanted to argue in Ella's defense, to say that he'd gotten to know her

and that Fred Stewart was wrong. He was sure of itbut not quite sure enough to lay his heart on the line. So he hadn't admitted his identity to her yetor revealed his attempt to buy her and Aggie all the time they wanted to stay in the old Victorian.

Okay, so maybe there was another reason. He was also dragging his feet because he hadn't quite figured out how to tell her that he hadn't been completely honestwith her.

But he would.

Soon.

***

Ella stood at the kitchen window and looked out into the yard, where Clay had just finished cutting back a tree branch that had been weighing down on the fence.Now he was in the living room, putting lubricant on a squeaky window.

She was amazed at his strength, at his work ethic. He gave all his effort, all his focus, to each job he took on. In fact, he seemed to have a personal stake inrenovating the old house, something that touched her heart.

In fact, there was a lot about the man to Well, a lot to love.

She realized she hadn't known him long, but he was everything she'd ever wanted

in a mankindhearted, dedicated, loyal and honest. Before meeting him, she'd beenafraid to get too close to people, especially after Fred's betrayal. But Clay listened to her and valued her opinion. So how could she not trust him?

In fact, she'd begun to think that meeting Clay at the restaurant had been fate.

They'd yet to kiss again, but that didn't mean she wasn't tempted to catch him alone. And so she'd asked him to stay for dinner tonight, hoping that she'd findthe right time to say that she'd like to date him, even if he didn't have any job prospects at the moment.



Okay, so there was still a lot she didn't know about him, but she hoped to put that behind her this evening, over dinner.

She'd already asked him questions about his childhood, about his education, about his friends. Trouble was, his answers had all been pretty vague.

But maybe he hadn't lived a very exciting life.

As she prepared a chicken and rice dish, the telephone rang. When Aggie didn't answer, Ella rinsed her hands in the sink, dried them on a dishtowel, then grabbed the receiver from the mount on the wall. "Hello?"

"Where's Aunt Aggie?"

Ella wasn't sure what Fred had against her or why he'd become brutally short andto the point. Would it have hurt him to greet her?

"I'm not sure. I thought she was talking to the handyman, but she didn't pick upthe telephone, so I'm not sure."

"A handyman? Tell her to stop wasting her money."

Ella bit back the anger and frustration Fred never failed to incite lately. "It'

s difficult when so many things aren't working properly around here."

"Yeah, well, that's not going to be a problem for you any longer. We got an offer on the house this morning. And it was almost full price, so I accepted it."

Ella's heart sank as she realized the move was now imminent, that Aggie would have to live in a retirement home. And she would have to find a new place to live,a home that didn't have the same loving memories.

"The details in the contract are a little unusual," Fred added. "But I didn't see any reason not to agree to them."

Ella gripped the receiver as though she could squeeze the details out of Fred. "

What do you mean? What did you agree to?"

"The new owner can't move in until this summer, and he's adamant that the housenot be left vacant. He'd like you and Aggie to remain living there for the nextsix months. I didn't think you'd mind."

"Of course not." They'd been given a reprieve. The longer Aggie could stay in her home, the better.

When Fred ended the call, Ella hung up the receiver. Then she strode to the living room, where Clay was working on a squeaky window. She watched him for a moment, the way the sunlight shined on him with a heavenly glow.

He'd shown up in her life when she'd really needed a friend. Should she tell himthat they didn't require his services anymore?

Just the thought of not seeing him again turned her heart topsy-turvy. And that's when she realized she'd fallen head-over-heart in love with Clay Baldwin.

The man might not have any money, but he had everything else that mattered. He was not only handsome, he was sweet, kind, funnybut most of all, he was honest.

What more did she need in a man?



"Clay," she said.

He turned and shot her a boyish grin that sent her heart spinning. "Did you findsomething else that needed fixing?"

Her future, maybe. But was it too soon to lay her heart on the line like that?

Old habits were hard to kick, she supposed. So she offered him a smile, rather than an answer, then asked, "Have you seen Aggie?"

"She's in the front yard, talking to a guy putting a Sold attachment on the ForSale sign."

Already?

"Thanks." Ella strode to the door then out to where Aggie stood talking to the Realtor.

"This man says the house is sold," Aggie told her.

"Yes, I know. Fred just called. But don't worry, Aggie. We won't have to move for another six months."

"The buyer can't move in until then," the Realtor said. "So he's asking you to stay in the house so it won't remain vacant."

"I suppose that's nice," Aggie said.

"What do you know about the buyer?" Ella asked.

"Just that he's a corporate executive who paid cash for the property."

"No loan?"

"The guy's rich."

He must be, Ella thought.

"He asked for me to keep his name out of it, butI don't see any problem in mentioning it to you. You'll know it as soon as you get the papers. His name is Clay Baldwin. He's the CEO of a successful firm in Red Rock. And he's got the money tofix this place up, which is going to increase the value for other home owners."

Clay? It couldn't be.

The man who'd let her buy his dinner? The man who pretended to be jobless? The man who was inside the house right now, fixing things and checking out all the flaws?

Had he planned to purchase the house all along? Had he only been using her to get inside, to gain Aggie's trust?

Ella shot a glance at the living room window, where Clay worked. He smiled at heruntil he read her pained expression.CHAPTER 8When Clay spotted the crushed look on Ella's facethe shock, the disappointment, the painhis heart dropped to his gut.

He wasn't sure what the darn Realtor had revealed to Ella just now, but it must



have had something to do with him. And from what he could see, Ella hadn't takenit very well.

Damn. He hadn't meant for her to stumble onto his identity before he got a chance to tell her himself.

He set the rag and can of lubricant he'd been holding on the windowsill, then headed outside to try to ease Ella's mind with the truth he'd been holding back. But before he could reach her, she met him at the door, her hands folded across her chest and a fire in those pretty, green eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't exactly lie."

The flame that blazed in her eyes threatened to burn him alive. "Oh, no? You letme think that you didn't have a job or a penny to your name."

She had a point, but he'd never actually said he was unemployed and broke. "Youcame to that conclusion on your own."

"But you could have corrected me."

Yes, he could have. And he probably should have. He'd deceived her, and while hi

s reason for doing so had seemed justified at the time, he realized she wouldn'tsee it that way.

"I wanted a chance to get to know you better," he said.

She stiffened. "Excuse me?"

He wasn't so sure if he could explain without making it worse.

"You're angry," he said.

"You bet I am. I'm also shocked. And crushed. You were probably plotting to getinside the house all along."

"Now wait a minute." Clay placed his hands on Ella's shoulders, trying to connect with her again. "That's not true, honey. I never thought about buying the house until I saw how sad you and Aggie were about moving. So I made the offer thismorning, asking that you remain here until summer. But even after that, I wouldn't have let you move until you wanted to."

"That doesn't make sense. Why would a man like youa successful businessman, of all thingspurchase a piece of property he had no intention of using?"

"I did it for you. Because I"

She tilted her head to the side. "Because you what?"

Clay glanced at the people who stood near the For Sale sign, gaping at him and Ella. Then he reached for her hand. "Come with me, and I'll try to explain."

He feared that she might put up a fight, but she walked with him through the house and out to the backyard.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"For starters, I'd like to have some privacy."



Once they were in the back of the old, three-story house, he led her to a wrought-iron chair that sat under the elm tree. When they were finally alone, he said,"I have a confession to make."

"You should have made it a lot sooner."

"You're right. I realize that now. But when I saw you at Red, I knew there was something different about you, something special. And I was determined to get toknow you."

"It was a mean trick."

"Maybe so, but I never meant to hurt you. It's just I've been with women in the past who said they loved me, when they were only interested in my money, my success. I've seen the damage those kind of people can cause." He thought of Connor'swidow. "And I wanted to make sure you were different."

"Oh, I'm different, all right. I don't have any money to my name. And if I did,I'd use it to go back to school and get a college degree."

"I find that refreshing."

"Do you?" The flame, which had seemed to cool down a bit once he'd gotten her al

one, flared again. "Well, I don't. And where is your sense of fairness? Didn't you think that I would have liked to be able to get to know you? You didn't offerme the same courtesy that I've given youhonesty."

She was right; he hadn't thought of it that way.

"In a way, you did see the real me," he added.

Skepticism crossed her face. "How do you figure?"

"In the past, I was so focused on business, that I lost the real me along the way. That's why I spent a week camping by myself. I'd just returned to Red Rock that night when I met you at Red. And it seemed as if you weresome kind of divine a

nswer, I guess. A gift I'd been waiting for all my life."

As she wrapped her mind around that, he added, "I liked coming by the house anddoing chores for you and Aggie. And not just because you're beautiful and wittyand charming. I actually enjoyed the fix-it projects, as well as mowing the yard, trimming the tree and pruning the hedges. In a way, while I was working on thehouse and in the yard, I was fixing all the broken and run-down things in my own life."

He scanned her face, trying to read her expression, hoping she understood what he was trying to say. When she didn't comment, he said, "I'm sorry, Ella. And ifyou'll let me, I'll make it up to you."

"How do you plan to do that?"

By pulling out all the romantic stops, he supposed. And laying his heart on theline.

Clay got down on one knee and reached for her hand. "I love you, Ella. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

***



Ella blinked. Had she heard him correctly? He loved her? "I don't understand."

"I can't explain it, either. I never believed in love at first sight, but I'd never met anyone like you before. I believe in it now. I fell for you, Ella. And Ifell hard."

"I don't know what to say."

"Well, for starters, you could forgive me for deceiving you. I swear I'll neverlie or hold anything back from you ever again. And then, maybe you'll agree to go out on the town with me, so I can show off the woman I love."

All the anger, all the pain, faded away as she gazed into Clay's eyes and saw the love shining there.

She might have been angry at him for withholding his identity, but in doing so,she'd been able to see the real Clay and to get to know him on a level she neverwould have allowed herself to enjoy before. And it had given her the opportunity to share more of herself with him than she would have under different circumstances.

"I love you, too," she admitted. "Although, I must admit, the money and successfrighten me a bit."

"They frighten you?"

"I'm not well-versed on things like fashion or socializing at fancy places withthe rich and the famous."

"That's fine with me. You don't have to go anywhere or do anything if you're notcomfortable. I'd be happy to spend every night at home with you."

Ella laughed. "I didn't say I was a homebody. It's just that I might not fit into your world."

"My world is anywhere you are, honey." Then he cupped her face, his eyes shiningwith love. "So what do you say? Will you marry me and make me the happiest man

in the world?"

Ella wrapped her arms around his neck and answered his question with a kiss thatpromised she'd love him forever.

Fairy tales didn't get any better than this.

THE END

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