by Carol Arens
With a sigh—of resignation, not seduction—she slid off the horse then tied it under the shade of a tree.
“Why, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. English. I’ve heard so many wonderful things.” She blinked and sighed but had the feeling that she resembled a grunting owl. “How lovely to finally meet you at last, sir. Mr. Murphy has had so many kind things to say about you.”
Danged sigh was still wrong.
She knew what the trouble was and the realization made her cheeks flame.
When she performed this trick for real she would be wearing an immodestly-cut gown. She’d spent the better part of an hour trying to convince Antie to sew lace into the bodice but she staunchly refused.
There was only one thing to do. Ivy opened the top of her shirt and pulled it wide. She shook her head. Even with her chest exposed to every hawk in the sky, this was not how her bosom would look in the gown.
They’d be more pushed up. She reached both hands under her camisole and lifted.
Yes, a bit better, but she was still lacking the mood for the sigh.
What she needed was inspiration. It flashed through her mind, and not at all unwelcome. River green eyes, heated with admiration stared at her.
She sighed. Her bosom heaved in the exact way Antie had instructed.
It made her feel...pleasant.
Even though she wasn’t bathing naked in the beautiful Missouri, she did enjoy the way sunshine filtering through the leaves warmed her exposed skin.
Since no one was around for miles upon miles, she popped her breasts out of their binding. Stepping from shade to sunshine, she extended her arms. With her eyes closed, she turned in circles.
Warmth kissed her skin, a breeze softly petted it and rustled the grass all about. She’d left her hair unbound this morning, but now she lifted it to better feel the sunshine on her neck.
Something was peculiar. Nakedness that used to have only to do with freedom and being close to nature felt different.
Now, being naked led to thoughts of Travis, which made her nipples twist under the sun’s kiss. Down low in her belly, things began to churn.
It did feel right nice. She sighed again, ignoring the stir of her horse’s hooves in the brush, his soft whicker.
This time she knew she had captured the spirit of the sigh.
Still, she doubted she could do it in polite company...to a stranger.
“Ivy?”
* * *
Travis had been checking on the herd. On the way back to the ranch he’d ridden over a rise and seen Ivy in the distance near a tree with her arms stretched wide.
It had looked like she was in some sort of a trance. Not wanting to disturb her, he’d approached quietly.
What he hadn’t seen from afar was that she had pushed her blouse off her shoulders, baring her chest to the warmth of the afternoon.
It wasn’t right to stand ten feet from her, staring in silence, but his voice seemed to have dried up along with his manners.
Ivy Magee, the intended of William English—not of Travis Murphy—was beautiful. The river nymph had morphed into the meadow nymph.
As proof, an orange butterfly fluttered over the tip of her nose, which was pointed skyward.
Eyes closed, she sighed, smiled and the tips of—
“Ivy?”
“Travis!”
She covered her chest with her palms, but her hands were smaller than—
Lightheaded, he spun about, stared hard at the distant house shimmering in the heat. “I’m sorry for gawking, Ivy. It’s just that...the truth is...you are a beautiful woman...and I—”
Have wanted to see you like this from the first night?
The thought of William being the one to be with her intimately stabbed his gut.
“My behavior was beyond rude.”
“Reckon I ought to have been more careful,” she gasped.
Against all that was proper, he turned back around. Three strides were all that separated him from his dreams. From holding Ivy close, kissing her, touching her with love and forging a soul-deep bond.
Her back was toward him. He could tell that she was buttoning up her shirt.
Taking the three strides, he wrapped his arms about her, tugged her back against his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut because she had only fastened three buttons. The weight of her bosom lay on his forearm.
So light that it might have been a stirring of air, he felt Ivy’s hand on his arm. She traced her fingertips over the coarse sweat-dampened hair.
“I want you, Ivy.” His voice was harsh, strangled sounding. Maybe he was being strangled since he was having trouble breathing.
“I want you, too.”
He opened his eyes, saw a strand of golden hair falling across the swell of one fair breast. His nose grazed her cheek. He caught the scent of wild grass in her hair, felt the sun warming her skin.
“There will be no going back from this, Ivy. If we take this step—if I make you mine—I won’t give you up.”
When she sighed, he felt the press of her back against his chest and smelled the sweet warmth of her breath.
“I know...but then think about everyone, about the Lucky Clover,” she whispered, her breath short and husky sounding.
“And about Agatha,” he added. But what he wanted was to lay her down in the grass.
Ivy stepped out of his embrace. “You’d best get going, Travis.”
He didn’t want to—and knew that she didn’t want him to. But what they wanted didn’t add up to much in comparison to what was at stake for everyone else.
What was the need of two people in comparison to the needs of so many?
And what was to say that Ivy would not be better off with English? William offered the security of wealth along with a high social standing.
“If things were different...” He stared at the sunshine curls shimmering on her back. “I—”
“But things are not different.” She spun about, blinking away the moisture standing in her eyes. “I’ll see you at dinner, dear friend.”
With a nod, he turned, stalked toward his horse.
They still had friendship between them, even though he’d come within a hair’s breadth of ruining it.
He would not risk breaking that bond again.
Chapter Fourteen
Kneeling on the front porch, Travis watched a drip of paint roll down the banister he was painting. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow with his forearm.
Even in the shade of the big trees, it was hot as a blister.
Heat didn’t wilt anyone’s enthusiasm for getting the ranch ready for the big barbecue, though. High spirits and excitement had folks buzzing about like happy bees.
It sure wasn’t a secret that Ivy was going to meet her Prince Charming and save the kingdom.
Plenty of guests were invited, mostly the wealthy members of the Cheyenne Club, many of them also voting members of the legislature. Neighbors were invited, too, since everyone was anxious to meet the heir to the Lucky Clover.
He’d seen Ivy an hour earlier when she’d brought Agatha outside. Step by patient step, she’d led her sister down the porch stairs and into the sunshine.
It seemed to Travis that a lifetime of being made into an invalid might be an impossible thing to come back from. Ivy was fighting to heal her sister, but even as determined as she was, he was not convinced it could be done.
The sad truth, Travis was coming to believe, was that from the time she was a little thing, Mrs. Brunne had been making Agatha dependent upon her. It was hard to imagine why she would do it, what she had gained by it.
He turned his attention back to getting the porch ready for the party but the repetitive nature of the chore allowed his mind to wander.
But when their eyes met, their gazes did not linger. And if they came upon each other with no one around, one or other of them would find something urgent to do somewhere else.
He only hoped in time, after she was wed to English, the easy manner between them would return.
Right now, he missed the Ivy he had met on the River Queen.
These days she acted the woman she was being groomed to be. The real Ivy seemed buried under society’s rules. How many days had it been since he’d seen her quick grin and heard her carefree laughter?
Too many, was how many. He jabbed a glob of paint on a spot he’d already finished. Better get used to it, he thought, smoothing out the mess he’d made on the wood.
At least he hadn’t made a mess of everyone’s future. It had been a close thing the day he had come upon her practicing an enticing sigh.
In that moment, he had come too close to forgetting everyone but her. He’d wanted to lay her down in the shade, make love to her then ride away into the sunset, just the two of them, to a place where the only thing that mattered was what was between them.
In the end, he’d remembered what was required. So had she. Duty came before love—funny how in its way that was also love.
A flash of blue a short distance away caught his attention. It was Ivy, sitting down on the blanket beside her sister.
He watched her, ignoring the paint dripping down his wrist. She hadn’t bound her hair this morning. It lay in a carefree tumble down her back. From this distance he couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he could see her touch Agatha’s lank hair and shake her head.
Agatha shrugged, keeping her gaze on her folded hands.
The sisters were sunshine and shadow, but sunshine sure was trying to chase away those clouds.
If he had his way, he’d stand in Ivy’s sunlight until he was burned.
Sure was a damn good thing he’d never told her that he loved her.
Didn’t mean he didn’t, it was just a good thing he’d never said so.
* * *
Sitting on a blanket in the shade with Agatha, Ivy tried not to openly stare at Travis while he painted the front porch.
Gosh almighty, it was a hard thing to do. He’d snatched off his neckerchief and tossed it aside. Then he’d unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it out of his pants.
It was a shame—a plum shame—that the day was so hot and he had to get half-naked so that sweat glistened on his skin.
It took all she had to pretend she didn’t notice.
But after the misstep she had come so close to making, she’d been careful to steer as clear of him as she could.
Which wasn’t easy since they lived in the same house. When it came to Travis Murphy she trusted her self-restraint about as much as she trusted ants not to invade a picnic.
She forced her attention back to where it belonged—to Agatha who ignored the lunch plate that Ivy had placed on her lap.
“You need to eat.” Ivy lifted a chicken leg and waved it in front of her sister’s nose. “You won’t get strong if you don’t.”
“She will never be strong no matter how you try and force it.” Hilda Brunne, who was never far away, sat against a tree smacking her lips over her own lunch.
As always, Ivy did her best to ignore the dark, hovering presence.
“I feel sick to my stomach, Ivy.” Agatha pushed the chicken leg away. “I’d eat it if I could, but I can’t.”
“You’re bound to feel unwell for a while. But only until the laudanum gets out of your system—after that, you’ll feel better than ever. Trust me.”
Agatha’s glance slid toward her nurse.
“It’s your fault she’s doing so poorly. It’s also your fault that I’m not getting my rest. If you hadn’t thrown her medicine away we’d all be doing fine.”
Did she really believe that? Some folks did.
Laudanum was considered an acceptable cure for all kinds of ailments.
In Ivy’s opinion, it was gut rot!
During her time aboard the Queen, she’d seen many a soul ruined by the drug, hands and gamblers alike.
“Maybe you’d like to take your lunch to another tree, Mrs. Brunne.” If Ivy were free to be herself she’d have a few ringing words to say to the nurse. Instead, here she sat, lady of the land, acting cool and refined.
“I hope you are not going to let that vile rodent loose. Agatha can speak of nothing else.”
“I was about to, if she can manage to eat a few bites.” It might not be right to push food on her when she looked so pale, but her sister could not spare another pound. “What do you say? Three bites? You don’t want to look like a ghost at the barbecue.”
“I won’t mind. I don’t want anyone to really see me. I only want to watch close-up. I do want to see the mouse, though.”
Agatha took a small bite of the chicken, then chewed slowly while she frowned.
This was a beginning, at least. Ivy drew open the string on the mouse purse. Little Mouse ventured out, sniffing the air and nosing about for crumbs.
Mrs. Brunne stood up suddenly and backed several yards away. “Filth! If it gets close to me I’ll stomp on it and don’t think I won’t.”
“Mother doesn’t mean that, Ivy.” Agatha cast her nurse an uneasy glance. “I’m sure she doesn’t.”
Ivy rose then followed.
“I’m sure you do mean it,” she murmured. Nurse Brunne would harm innocent creatures and with a big wicked grin on her face while she did it. “But I won’t allow it.”
Hilda narrowed her eyes, smiled and ground her boot on a flower that had been waving its delicate yellow petals above the grass.
“Stop me why don’t you?”
A twig cracked in the grass.
“Why, Mr. Murphy,” Nurse Brunne said turning. “How lovely to see you.”
Ivy could not say that in the moment she even recognized this woman of smiles and friendly wishes. The way Hilda Brunne could be one person, then a second later as the need arose she was someone else; it made Ivy’s gut curl.
Before Travis had a chance to respond, Brunne had already hurried up the stairs and gone into the house.
He made to go after her but Ivy caught his arm. “Let her go. A confrontation will only upset Agatha.”
“It gnaws at me, Ivy—being blinded to the fraud she was.”
He reached up as though he wanted to cup her cheek. Ivy gazed down at the crushed flower because if she looked up she would see his damp, bare chest. She would throw herself against it and hold on tight.
“It gnaws at me, too.” The poor flower was crushed beyond hope. “Because when you look at it, I’m every bit the fraud she is.”
“Never think so, Ivy. You are the finest lady I’ve ever met.”
* * *
Four days later, dressed in her party best, Ivy still felt like a fraud.
Sitting on a stool while Antie tied a ribbon in her hair, she gazed up into her mentor’s face. She was a beautiful woman for her age—for any age.
“I wonder, Antie, why haven’t you married again. I reckon Madame means you were?”
“One short and beautiful marriage was enough for me. My husband died suddenly, in an accident. I suppose I’ve been looking for a man to live up to his memory. This is a difficult thing, living up to a memory. I fear it cannot be done.”
If that was true, Ivy had little hope that her marriage to William would be as it should. Travis, her memory of him, would be a ghost standing between them.
“I’m not going to fool anyone, Antie.” Ivy pressed her palms against the waist of her blue gown and stared down at the bustle of activity going
on below her bedroom window.
William and party were due to arrive soon. “I’m a river gal. You can polish fool’s gold all day long and it’s still not the real thing.”
“You do not need to fool anyone, ma petite.” Madame went up on her toes and pressed Ivy’s cheek with a kiss. “You are a beautiful woman—twenty-four karat.”
“But I’m not who Mr. English is expecting.” A thousand knots in her belly tightened. “I’m going to let everyone down.”
A young woman carrying a checkered tablecloth passed by below. She spotted Ivy, smiled and waved.
“You look like a princess from a fairytale, Miss Magee,” the woman called.
In the distance, Ivy heard fiddle players practicing tunes. Tunes that she was going to have to dance to...with William English.
“Wish I’d stayed on the Queen.”
“And never have met your sister?”
Never have met Travis?
“I reckon I wouldn’t go back, but gosh almighty, I’m nervous!”
Off in the distance Ivy spotted dust rising on the road.
A small boy ran across the yard and into the house. From below she heard his voice shouting to Mrs. Morgan that the first guests were coming.
Moments later a parade of kitchen girls hustled past carrying covered platters of food. The aroma drifted up.
“I’d lose my breakfast if it wasn’t trapped in this here corset.”
“Let us go down to greet your guests, ma petite.”
“Will you be close by?”
“Oui, but you will not need me.”
* * *
One of the stable boys had seen Ivy standing beside her bedroom window and pronounced her a princess walked out of a fairy tale. Mrs. Flairty told Travis she agreed.
Young Mac Johnson had seen her, too. Setting up tables, the kid’s eyes had been dreamy looking. Even Slim, the Lucky Clover’s head wrangler was convinced that William English was going to throw himself at Ivy’s feet.
Waiting for her now at the foot of the stairs, Travis had a lump the size of the ranch in his belly.
He didn’t know why. Ivy would play her part well.
