Ella: an Everland Ever After Tale (13 page)

But this July third, things were different. The town of Everland had accepted him. He had a place to belong, and he had a mysterious woman to devote himself to. He had hope for the future; a future that didn’t care how many legs he had.

And suddenly, he knew what he was going to name the tiny black pup sleeping upstairs on his kitchen table.

On the way home, Ella took off the shoes and the stockings. They were beautiful, and far too precious to her to get covered in mud. Perhaps, tomorrow or the next day or next week, her stepsisters would notice them and hound her until she had to make up a lie about them, but for now, they were the most valuable thing she owned. She clutched them to her chest as she walked out of the town, not caring if that meant that her hem dragged in the mud instead.

He’d given her shoes. No one had ever given her something like that before. He’d seen something that she’d needed, and freely gifted it. No wonder she loved him.

If only there was some way that she could show him. If only there was some way for them to be together. That pretty yellow dress she’d been making would’ve been perfect for tomorrow’s parade and picnic. She could’ve held her head high as she walked into town behind her sisters. She could’ve felt comfortable smiling and laughing and sharing with Ian.

But she wasn’t going. Could never go. Her stepsisters and stepfather had made it perfectly clear that she was never,
ever
to go into town, or see Ian again.

Ella stopped still in the road, a half-hour from the Miller Ranch. Papa had forbidden her to go into town, or to see Ian, but she had. She’d defied him, for the sake of the pup. For her own sake. She’d
needed
to see Ian, and that need had been greater than her fear of Papa. And hadn’t she just tonight, there in his store room, promised that she’d see him again? Promised that she’d find a way to come back?

She loved Ian more than she feared Papa. And Ian wanted to see her tomorrow at the picnic. It wouldn’t be easy; she’d have to come in her drab blue work dress, and she’d have to walk the whole way, and she’d have to find a way to sneak past her family and Papa’s guards… but maybe.

Just maybe.

Remembering the way Sibyl used to wish on stars, and how she’d force Ella to go along with her and wish—or pretend to wish—as well, she took a deep breath. Throwing her head back, staring up at the huge Wyoming sky, Ella inhaled deeply.

The storm had passed and the clouds had cleared.
There!
There was the brightest star, sparkling down like it was made just for her. She resisted the urge to close her eyes, and instead focused on that one star as hard as she could.

And she wished.

Please. Oh please. I want to go to the picnic tomorrow. I want to be with him. Forever.

Wishing on stars was stupid. It meant that she thought that they were magic, but magic wasn’t real. And it definitely didn’t work. As Ella stood on the front porch of Papa’s grand ranch house, watching him drive his fancy buggy into town, her stepsisters laughing and preening, and in the back of her mind, Ella knew that magic wasn’t real.

The morning had been worse than she’d thought; Mabel was up early, demanding that Ella starch the latest lace addition to her dress, and then Eunice insisted on having her second-best stockings darned, so that she could wear those instead of the white ones. Ella managed to do both, in between frying the chicken and pulling the oatmeal cookies out of the oven, and then it was time to start on her sisters’ hair. Luckily, Maisie was an excellent hair-dresser, and the Miller daughters might not have liked associating with her, but they loved her designs.

So it wasn’t even noon yet, and Ella was drained. She’d gotten home well after midnight, and then been woken before dawn to start on breakfast and the food for the picnic baskets. Her shoulders and legs ached, and her heart ached too.

She missed him. She’d seen Ian only last night, but already missed him, and mourned the lost opportunity of spending the day with him. Now that her family had left, though, she was planning on crawling back onto her pallet and sleeping for a few more hours. It was the only way to forget about last night’s stupidity.

Wishing on a star? Honestly, where had that ever gotten her?

But despite her intentions, she was still standing there on the porch, watching her family disappear over the same ridge where she and her mother had stood all those years ago, looking down on their new house. She was still standing there when their cloud of dust dissipated, and she was still standing there when a new cloud of dust appeared.

Ella had just decided that the newcomer was probably a group of cowboys from DeVille’s place, come to see Papa’s hands—despite almost everyone being in town for the picnic—when the shape resolved itself into a stagecoach. And not just any stagecoach; it was a gaily-painted one, streamers hanging off the top and colorful swirls covering the sides. It was the oddest-looking vehicle that Ella had ever seen, and it was heading for the house, rather than the barns.

When the coach pulled to a stop right in front of her, Ella decided that the driver was even odder-looking that her conveyance. The woman was stately and beautiful, with dark hair pulled back under a purple headscarf. She wore the reform bloomers that had gone out of style a few decades before, tucked into gleaming black boots, and she was draped in golden jewelry—necklaces, bracelets and even the multiple tiny rings adoring her ears all clanged merrily as she set the brake and climbed down from her perch.

Ella realized that she was watching with her mouth agape, and quickly tried to remember her manners. It wasn’t easy. When the tired-looking horse on the left turned its head to give her an entirely too-knowing look, Ella shook her head and hurried down the steps. The woman had opened the coach’s doors, and was pulling out a large white box.

To Ella’s surprise, the strange-looking woman handed her the flat box. “A delivery, my dear.” She had a strange accent, musical and mysterious.

Accepting the lighter-than-it-looked box, Ella tried not to let her confusion show. They’d never—as far as she knew—had a box delivered directly to the ranch. Anything that her sisters had ordered had been delivered to Everland, and then one of the hands brought it back here. A direct delivery, and from such an odd delivery person, was new.

The label—printed in a lovely flowing script—indicated that the package was for “E. Miller.” It looked like one of the boxes that the fancy dressmakers back east shipped their gowns in; apparently Eunice had ordered something that Ella hadn’t known about.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“Ella.”

“Well, Ella, I’d say that your new dress has arrived. Let’s see how it looks!”

Flustered at the woman’s directness, and not wanting to be rude, Ella shook her head and took a step back, still holding the box. “No, I’m sorry. You see, my sister’s name is Eunice. This is for her, I’m sure.”

“Nonsense!” To Ella’s horror, the woman took a step towards her and lifted the top of the box to reveal the thin paper. “This is for E. Miller, and you’re an E. Miller, aren’t you?”
Am I?
“So this is for you.” The woman’s reasoning wasn’t sound; Ella had never really been a Miller, since her mother married Papa after—

And then she wasn’t thinking at all, because the woman had pulled out the most beautiful turquoise gown, trimmed in the same black velvet ribbon that Ella had admired so deeply at Crowne’s Mercantile all those weeks ago. As the woman lifted the dress by its shoulders, Ella felt the box slip from her numb fingers. The gown was an elegant cut, simple in its design, and made to accentuate the wearer’s curves. Ella’s palms itched to run down the bodice, to check the layers of the bustle, to caress the velvet trimmings. If she’d ever been allowed to design a dress, from scratch, for herself, she wouldn’t have had the audacity to design something this wonderfully perfect.

It wasn’t until she heard the woman’s chuckle that she realized she’d stopped breathing. Taking in a frantic gulp of air, she met the strange woman’s eyes. Her expression softened. “Trust me, my dear. This dress is for you.”

This dress is for you, sweetheart.
It was something she remembered Mama saying to her for her sixth birthday, and then once again after they’d moved here to Wyoming. And since then, no one else had said it. She’d made do with hand-me-downs and scraps, and no one had ever given her anything.

Until last night. Until Ian gave her those lovely new shoes.

Ian
. He’d be at the picnic today. The picnic that she’d longed to go to. The picnic that she’d asked the wishing star to be able to attend.

Maybe the wishing star sent her a chance, after all? Her family was gone, and here was a dress, and if she asked politely, maybe the woman might even give her a ride back into town. Riding with her would make it much easier to sneak away from any unlucky cowboys who’d been left on the ranch to guard her.

Taking a deep breath, Ella straightened her shoulders. “Are you going back to Everland, ma’am?” When the dark-headed woman smiled and nodded, Ella plucked up her courage. “Would you consider taking me with you?”

“Of course! I’ll take a moment to water my horses, if you don’t mind the delay?”

Gratefully, Ella smiled. “That is perfect, actually. I’ll be back soon.” She didn’t quite snatch the dress from the woman’s hands, but it was close. Still, the stranger was smiling when Ella darted up the stairs and into the house.

In the kitchen, Ella quickly stripped out of her worn work dress and pulled on the new turquoise gown. It fit like a glove, like it had been made for her. Even the yellow dress, which had been the first thing that Ella had made for herself in a long while, hadn’t fit this well. This gown had been made by a master, and Ella had the very brazen desire to preen in front of the mirror upstairs. There was no time, though.

And no time for elaborate hairstyles—Maisie was already back at her house with Leonard, no doubt preparing to go into town too. So Ella just pulled the pins out of the sedate bun she normally wore, and reveled in the feel of her curls—still slightly damp from last night’s adventure—cascading down her back. For the finishing touch, she pulled on the shoes that Ian had given her.

They went perfectly with her new gown. She felt like a princess, on her way to see her prince.

Not knowing what the day would bring, Ella hurried to pack a little bundle of oatmeal cookies. She’d been planning on having them with her lunch, as a special treat, but she’d better bring them with her in case she didn’t get to eat. And maybe the mysterious woman would like some in appreciation for the ride?

Ella hurried out the door, feeling like a different woman. And judging from the way the stranger smiled, she looked like one, too. The woman didn’t say anything when she held the coach door open for Ella to climb in, but did accept a cookie with a kind nod. Then the door was shut and the horses were
cluck
ed into motion, and Ella was being carried off to the picnic in an actual
stagecoach
. She felt like a princess with some sort of secret godmother!

When they reached the outskirts of Everland, the reality of what Ella was doing suddenly sunk in, and she considered begging the woman to stop and let her out. Then she thought of Ian’s expression last night, when he’d practically begged her to see him again, and thought of the way his touch made her feel and the way he’d held her in her dreams last night. And knew that she could do this. She had to do this.

There was no one on the streets, but the woman directed her horses down the main street and to the large fair grounds west of the town. Apparently they’d missed the Independence Day parade, but the picnic was in full swing. As they grew closer, Ella could smell the roasting pig, and hear the band and the calls of the townspeople. Mr. Smith, the Mayor, was standing on a small bandstand, calling to a crowd about something-or-other, and children were darting this way and that throughout the clumps of people. Dogs were barking, men were shouting, women were laughing, and Ella craned her neck, looking for a rust-colored head amid the crush.

He’d be here. She knew it.

The woman clucked to her horses and pulled them to a stop on the outskirts of the crowd, climbing down from the coach with no trouble. The process was a bit more complicated for Ella, but it wasn’t until the woman came around and took her arm and began to lead her into the crowd that Ella realized no one was paying them any attention. Perhaps the strange woman was a regular in town, and no one bothered being surprised by the coach or her anymore? It was almost like no one could see them…

She was so intent on the townspeople’s reaction—or lack of reaction—to her, that she didn’t even notice when the woman pulled her to a stop beside the bandstand. The Mayor was still speaking, but the woman leaned in close to her and patted her arm. She whispered, “Now you just wait here, my dear, and everything will be all right.”

And then the Mayor was speaking to her, and when Ella glanced around in confusion, the woman had disappeared into the crowd, and she had no choice but to take Mr. Smith’s offered hand and step up onto the bandstand.

The parade had been nice; Ian had sat with Ox and Gaston and Max in front of the Gingerbread House and hollered encouragement to the cowboys and their shows of trick riding. They’d all ribbed Max about not being up there with his brother, and his good-natured grin had hidden just a hint of envy. Then they’d ogled the ladies in their pretty dresses, and followed their noses to the fair grounds and the picnic that was being laid out. Ian had never felt more a part of something than he had today.

Now, he and Max were standing in the back of the crowd that clustered around the bandstand. The mayor had welcomed everyone and reminded everyone that the money raised from bidding on the picnic baskets would go—this year—to fix
Abuela
Zapato’s orphanage roof. Then he’d invited the young ladies to form a line, and had begun to show off the picnic baskets.

The bidding on the baskets belonging to Rose and Snow, and Euna Smith and Ani Dokter, was fierce, and then it was the Miller sisters’ turns. Gaston won the bidding on Eunice’s basket, and strutted off beaming to collect his lunch companion. When Mr. Smith announced that Mabel’s basket contained fried chicken, Ian had been half-tempted to bid on it himself, but decided that he’d rather keep the memory of Ella’s meal untarnished. Nothing could compare to her fried chicken. Once the contents of the basket were announced, Mabel’s bidding increased, and she lost her worried expression.