Wyoming Cinderella. Cathleen Galitz
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The thought of pulling up in front of Phoebe’s apartment in this extravagant contraption caused the corners of her mouth to tug into a smile. All she was missing was glass slippers and an elegant ball gown to complete the picture. As Hawk placed a parting kiss atop Sarah’s golden head, a careless thought flitted through Ella’s mind as she imagined him stopping by her open window, bending down, and kissing her farewell, too. The thought sent blood pumping through her body in hot spurts that caused her to blush unaccountably.
When Hawk did saunter over to her window to offer his parting remarks, Ella was aware that her face rivaled her hair in its damnable shade of red. His suggestion that she pick up some sunscreen while in town only caused her to glow a deeper crimson. She hoped he was distracted from the glow by his children hollering, “See ya later alligator.”
To which, Hawk dutifully responded, “In a while crocodile.”
He stood in the driveway a long time, staring after them, eating the dust of their departure. He wasn’t quite sure how she managed to do it, but somehow Ella was able to make even a trip to the grocery store into an exciting adventure. He used to look forward to the one day a week when the previous nanny had taken the children off the ranch and out of his hair for an afternoon of shopping. Rather than that familiar sense of relief, Hawk trudged back to his workstation feeling oddly bereft.
The house was blessedly quiet. Nothing was stopping him from catching up on a truckload of work this afternoon. Nothing but the sense that he was being left out of his children’s lives and the vague memory of once upon a time knowing how to have fun himself.
Three
Ella quickly discovered that shopping with money was a whole lot more fun than her usual forays into the discount world. Under normal circumstances she left shops feeling emotionally beaten and harried. What a change to point her nose disdainfully in the air as she passed the “day old” bread and loaded her cart full with what she considered to be extravagant items. The foremost among them was a big bottle of bubble bath and a very small bottle of the most sensual perfume she had ever smelled. Not wanting to give her employer any reason to find her unworthy of his trust, Ella paid for these two indulgences out of her own pocket. The rest was going to bills and straight into her college fund.
Her first night at Red Feather Ranch had felt like a stay in a sumptuous hotel. Compared to her old feather bed, the new mattress and springs in her room were heaven. Next to the forced air heater which would keep her toasty warm on long winter nights, the undisputed best thing about her new living quarters was the attached bathroom complete with a shower and tub, which she wantonly had filled to the brim with steamy hot water. It had been in that deliciously relaxing bath that Ella had decided to add bubble bath to her shopping list.
Ah, the comforts that so many people dared take for granted, she thought to herself taking an appreciative sniff of the peach bubble bath she had selected from the store shelf. Still, old habits die hard, and so it was that Ella could not actually bring herself to buy the myriad of expensive gourmet brands that she had always fancied. She did, however, yield to the children in their choice of cold cereals with “fabulous prizes” inside, as well succumbing to the charm of a bouquet of fresh-cut flowers for the kitchen table. They would make a lovely still life if she ever found the time to capture it on canvas. Before leaving, she gave Sarah and Billy each a gleeful turn on the antique horse that had sat at the front of the grocery store for as long as Ella could remember. Lurching drunkenly in place, poor old Bullet bore the weight of multiple generations upon its worn saddle. He stoically endured the bit attached to the real leather reins which youngsters pulled on while slapping his paint-flecked rump urging him to gallop. For the price of a single penny, it was assuredly the best ride in town.
Just as Ella had feared, the children blew their money on useless junk that she knew would likely be broken or discarded before they even got back home. Her suggestions that they either save their money for a big ticket item or invest in rainy day art supplies was met with all the resistance two preschoolers with forty dollars between them could muster. In the end, Ella had surrendered to their wishes, reminding herself that it was neither her money nor they her children. A somber thought reinforced by past experiences reminded her to keep her emotional distance lest her tender heart be hurt again.
The first thing she did upon depositing their purchases into the trunk of the car was stop by Phoebe’s house. Both the fancy car and her friend’s good fortune overwhelmed the lively blonde. Phoebe purported that the only people who owned such cars were old goats trying to reclaim their youth and as such, she remained skeptical as to the owner’s real identity. As they all piled into the BMW sports car and headed to the Dairy Palace for ice cream, Phoebe made Ella promise to introduce her to the “hottie” aristocrat her best friend claimed as her boss. If indeed William Fawson Hawk III was too stodgy and business oriented for Ella’s freewheeling taste, Phoebe said she wasn’t above falling in love with a rich, handsome tycoon.
Before stopping for ice cream, they hung a couple of Mains on Lander’s major thoroughfare with their state-of-the-art stereo system turned up loud enough to make the children squeal with delight as they joined in on loud off-key choruses. Parking the car away from other vehicles that might cause a scratch or door ding, they stopped for ice cream. Outside, the sun was warm and the air pleasantly still. Sitting beneath the yellow-and-white awning of the old-fashioned ice cream parlor watching the traffic go by added to the charm of what seemed to be a town that time forgot.
Phoebe pasted a disgusted expression on her face. “One of the horses in this two-horse burg must have died last night.”
She made no secret of the fact that she was looking forward to shaking the familiar dust of her hometown from her feet, the sooner the better. Once she got her computer certification from the nearby community college, Phoebe Tyler was bound for more glamorous destinations. Convinced of her friend’s artistic talents she took every opportunity to encourage Ella to come along with her. After all, discovery by the art world in Lander, Wyoming, was about as likely as winning the state lottery—odds lessened considerably by the fact that the state didn’t have one.
Savoring her strawberry ice cream, Ella refused to be ruffled on such a glorious day as this. A country girl at heart, she felt no need to run off to the big city looking for fame and fortune. This quaint little town was as cosmopolitan as she needed, nestled as it was at the base of the mountains that held her heart. She wiped matching chocolate ice cream mustaches from the children’s faces with a napkin. They didn’t put up much of a fight when Ella announced it was time to go home. All in all, they seemed to have had a wonderful time sampling the sweetness of the day.
Promising to see each other at their art class Wednesday night, the two old friends departed. The sun was sinking low in the sky when Ella turned on a soothing CD in hopes of combating all the sugar racing through the children’s systems. It wasn’t long before their heads were bobbing and they were out, soundly napping for the duration of the ride home. She found them undeniably beautiful in their sleep. Billy with his thick mop of dark hair and open gray eyes was the very image of his father physically, though Ella doubted whether Hawk had ever displayed his son’s wonderfully mischievous, playful nature. More than likely, William Fawson Hawk III had been a serious and intent child whose favorite pastime was a Monopoly game. Ella assumed Sarah got her pretty blond curls and blue eyes from her mother. Having glanced at the pictures on the mantel in their home, she ascertained that the gorgeous creature enshrined there had to be their mother. Or a movie star.
Those pale reflections of what Mrs. William Hawk had been in the flesh were chilling reminders of how dearly missed she was by every member of this fragile family. And how hopelessly plain and boring she must seem to them. Despite