Chasing Cinderella (Book one of the Cinderella Series) (Completed)

Chapter 22

I placed my hands behind my back and waited by the door of the kitchen that led to the dining room. Delilah had told me to stand right there and to wait for them to start speaking. She had told me that I wasn't allowed to have dinner with them, which was fine with me, because I would be able to sneak some food for me and for Anne for the week or such. Delilah didn't leave anyone else in the kitchen, nor does she record anything.

"That girl is a handful," Anne said, making me look over at her. Anne was working on kneading some bread for tomorrow morning, her hands white with flour. "Who wants baked ham that has been cooked the night before?"

"Guess she does," I replied. I frowned, worrying about the older female. She was like a mother that I never had, so it wasn't my fault that I was closer to her than my stepmother. "Have you eaten anything?"

Anne shook her head, no. "I haven't had the time."

I frowned, knowing that she hadn't taken anything from the food supply that I had hid for us, in a small cubby in the closest. "Eat some apple slices while you make the pies for dessert," I said, my voice soft. I made sure that no one could hear us, not knowing if she was close or not. "If Delilah says anything, then I'll say that I had eaten them."

Anne shook her head, no, again. "I can't ask you-"

"We are not having this argument again, Anne," I said, interrupting her. A scowl appeared on my face, not liking the fact that she was saying the same thing again. "You will eat something. You know about you-know-what and the guys will give you some food. If you don't want to take it from here, then ask your brother to send you something. You know that he will."

Anne didn't say a word while she worked on the bread. She knew that I was right and knew that I could argue long and hard about this issue. She, also, knew that I would take care of her, even if she was sick.

Finally, she nodded her head, sighing. "I'll get some food," she replied.

I nodded my head, glad that we didn't have to have an argument. A couple of voices was heard coming into the dining room, and I knew that that was my signal to get the salad plates and set them on the table.

***

"Maybell? Is that you?" a female asked, spying me coming from the kitchen carrying the plates. Shock filled her dark brown eyes, a bit of her graying brown hair falling into her eyes. She glanced me up and down, probably thinking that I was my deceased mother. "What did you do to your hair, and how did you get so young?"

I cleared my throat and stole a glance at Delilah who was wanting me like a hawk watching it's prey. I glanced around and saw that it was Dean and his family before I looked back at the mother. "I'm not Maybell, Ma'am," I replied, walking forward. I started to place the plates down in front of the people, not looking at the older female. "That is my mother."

Realization dawned on her face. "Oh, Dear, I am so sorry," she said. "You just have her body style and eyes. I just didn't..." She trailed off. "And Trevor, your father, he had died. Yes?"

My hands shook a little while she had asked about my father. It still hurt, but I tried to hide the pain that I was feeling. "Yes, Ma'am," I replied. "He died when I was twelve." I placed a plate in front of her and was about to move, when she stopped me. I glanced into her dark brown eyes and saw that there were tears in her eyes. However, she didn't cry.

"Maybell was my best friend, as well as Trevor. Do you think that you can sit with us and tell us anything that you love about them?"

"She will not," Delilah said, instantly. "She has work to do."

I kept my mouth shut and wanted to leave. However, my mother's old friend kept a hold of my hand.

"She can sit around and talk for a while, Ms. Rogers. She is a young girl, and I am sure that she owns this land and not you," she snapped.

I noticed that Delilah flinch when she had said, but she didn't say a word.

"She can't sit with us," Clarice said. "She is nothing."

Mrs. Andrews started to grip my hand tighter when Clarice had said those words. She didn't say a word but sent a glare in my step-sister's direction. However, Clarice didn't take any notice and was messing around with the salad.

"I'm sure that she is more of something than you," Dean replied. He glanced at me before looking at my stepsister. "And, I think she isn't as fake as you are."

The look on Clarice's face was priceless, but he wasn't far from the truth. Clarice was actually fake. She had blonde hair, but she had just mimicked me. She had brown eyes that was caked underneath a lot of make-up. Clarice had all ready had about 3 surgeries done to her and two of them were on her face, which didn't help out any. The other one was on her breasts, but that didn't seem to help out any, either.

"Dean," his mother scowled. "That is not nice to say." There was a bit of a quiver on her lips, as if she was trying hard not to smile.

I was having the same problem, and I was glad that someone had seen past my step-sister's "spell" that she had placed on them. I, also, noticed that Derek was trying hard not to move and do something to his sister. A small feeling of pride filled me, because I was glad that Derek did care about me.

Someone cleared their throat by the door, and I was very thankful for the interruption before anything bad happened.

I turned to look there and saw that Red was standing there, clutching his Stetson. He had a wild look in his eyes, and I knew that something might be wrong. "What is it, Red?" I asked, ignoring Delilah's glare. "She foalin'?"

Red nodded his head. "And it doesn't look pretty," he replied.

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A/N: Well how do you like Dean's mother? Are you suprised that it was them? Also, do you think that the foal will make it? Find out next chapter. xD

Don't forget to vote/comment.

Peace,

Rissa