Read Cinderella Wore Tennis Shoes: A Novella for Free Online Page B

tonight and clean Doug’s out tomorrow. Then on Monday I’ll start car shopping, job hunting, and . . .” The list seemed overwhelming. “Well, I’ll worry about all that on Monday.”
    He frowned. “I don’t know why you trust me or why Ida did, for that matter. Neither of you know me.”
    Know him? Charlie felt as if she’d known Dan all her life. And trust him? Yes, she trusted him, though it didn’t make an ounce of sense. From the moment he’d pulled his rig over and opened the door, she’d trusted him.
    But did she trust herself?
    A picture of Dan holding her flashed through her mind. No. She might trust Dan, but she couldn’t afford to trust herself.
    “Then let’s go home,” he said.
    “Let’s go home,” she echoed.

    Dan eased his truck down the winding drive. “Here we are.”
    Charlie looked at the small red ranch that sat nestled between the trees, looking as at home in their midst as if it had sprung up there. “It’s lovely.”
    “I’m sure it’s not where Winslow was planning to move you.”
    “Which makes it even lovelier.”
    He pointed to the detached two-story, two-car garage. “That’s Doug’s place. We’ll get it cleaned up for you tomorrow.”
    “Okay.”
    He parked the car in the driveway and took her into the house via the side door. “I have two extra rooms, but no extra furniture, so you’ll take my bed and I’ll take the couch.”
    “Oh, no, I couldn’t. I’ll take the couch.”
    “Charlie, that wasn’t an invitation to debate. It was a statement.”
    “But—”
    “Come on, I’ll show you around.” They walked through a spotless, small kitchen that also served as the dining room. Dan pointed down a hall. “That’s the bathroom and this is my room.”
    The door was open. A king-size bed and a single dresser dominated the room. There were no adornments on the wall. No hints of who this quiet man next to her really was. Then, on the nightstand, she spied a picture frame. She picked it up. A tired-looking woman with sad eyes and a forced smile was sandwiched between two small boys.
    “Is this your family?”
    Dan frowned. “Yes.”
    “Your mother and brother?”
    He simply nodded and opened one of the dresser drawers. “You can use these for pajamas until we get you something to wear or Winslow returns your suitcases.” He tossed a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt on the bed and held a second pair in his hands.
    Charlie wasn’t going to be put off by talk of pajamas. “This one’s you, isn’t it?” she said, pointing to one of the almost identical dark-haired boys.
    He nodded.
    “I could tell.”
    “How?”
    “It’s your eyes. They’re not really any color, a sort of gray that changes in an instant. Kind eyes . . .”
    She realized what she’d said and cut off the rest of her reasoning. She’d known the picture was Dan because there was something about the small boy that was echoed in the man who’d rescued her this morning.
    Dan obviously wasn’t going to pursue her ability to sort him out from his brother. He simply nodded and, taking the second pajama set, walked toward the door. “I’ll go dig out an extra toothbrush for you, and if you need anything else, just holler. I hope you’ll be comfortable.”
    “Thank you,” Charlie said.
    He simply nodded without turning back and then shut the door, leaving Charlie alone.
    The room felt emptier without Dan. Charlie felt emptier as well.
    What a day.
    She’d left her fiancé at the altar, hitchhiked, taken a ride with a trucker, confronted her mother in a rare bid for independence, and come home with a stranger. And yet she felt strangely content.
    She refused to lose that contentment tonight. She’d worry about all her problems tomorrow. Right now all she wanted was to get some sleep.

    “Does anyone know of any reason these two should not be joined?”
    Charlie glanced over her shoulder. Friends and family all watched.
    The minister continued. “Then—”
    “I do.”
    “Not