The Cowboy's Cinderella

by Carol Arens

  Even though things had been a mite quiet between her and Travis on the ride home, it wasn’t over regret for what they had done.

  More, what they were going to do about it. She knew Travis was fussing about her marrying William, trying to convince himself that it was still the right thing to do. Ivy had been stewing over it, too.

  Lord bless Uncle Patrick for sitting up with her all night long, talking and helping to put her mind at rest about the decision she’d made.

  Moving aside a leafy branch she peered deep into the brush. All she saw were the dark green shadows of late afternoon.

  “Little Mouse, come on out. I’ve brought you a treat.” She set the cookie crumbs on the ground then leaned back on her heels to watch and wait.

  “I doubt if she’s in that bush, Ivy. I’ve already looked.”

  She glanced back, smiled. “Howdy—I mean, hello, William. It was kind of you to search.”

  “My guess is that Mrs. Brunne dropped her farther toward the barn.” He crouched next to her, shaking his head while he moved another branch.

  “I understand you held things together when Travis came after me, that Agatha begged you for laudanum to calm her nerves?”

  “Poor girl was at her wits’ end with worry. It’s understandable that she would seek an old comfort.”

  “As I hear it, you put a book in her hands. I can’t say how grateful I am that you were there to take charge. I’ll always be grateful.”

  “I’m sure I mentioned that I like being in charge.” He flashed a chivalrous smile. Gosh almighty, there was a twinkle in his eye! “And I’m grateful that Travis brought you home safely.”

  Ivy stood up gingerly.

  “Were you injured?” William stood with her, frowning and slipping his hand under her elbow.

  She shook her head, looked away. Not injured, just a mite sore.

  “I like you, William.” The longer she waited to say this, the more miserable the telling was going to be.

  “I like you, too.”

  Blamed twinkle.

  “You think you do, but the truth is you don’t know me.”

  “And you don’t know me, but that will come with time. I have every confidence we will end up genuine friends.”

  “Yes, I hope so.” As long as he didn’t hate her after she told him what was weighing on her heart. “But there’s something I need to say...well to confess.”

  “Would you like to sit?”

  She shook her head. “I feel like I’ve got ants in my drawers as it is.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’ve been tricked, William. You think I’m a lady fit to be a politician’s wife. I’m not. I’m no more than a river rat. Why, when Travis found me my greatest dream was to pilot a riverboat.”

  He lowered a dark brow. “You have lovely manners for a river rat.”

  “It seems I’m not bad at acting, either. Why the only reason I’m not cussing and tripping over this dang pretty dress...” She kicked at the hem. “Is because Madame du Mer is a patient teacher. Poor Antie had the devil of a time teaching me how to smile and speak correctly. And flirting? Well she nearly gave up on that. I could dance all right, but not like a lady.”

  William was silent for a moment, looking at her with a puzzled expression.

  There was nothing for it but to give him proof.

  “Here’s how I really dance.”

  Ivy stomped, slapped her thighs and grinned like a loon. Lungs heaving, she finished the performance with a yee-haw.

  “I learned from roustabouts and deckhands.”

  “You are a fascinating woman, Ivy Magee.”

  “I reckon you didn’t have my kind of fascinating in mind when you agreed with my father’s proposal.”

  “My offer stands. I know what our union means to this ranch.”

  “And I know what the ranch means to your career.” She took a breath, let it out in a whoosh. “The thing is... I can’t marry you. I meant to hold up my end of things but it turned out that I like you.”

  “I can’t see how that’s a bad thing.”

  “Look a little harder, Bill.” He was, with both brows peaked high in his forehead. “I just couldn’t carry on with things and you not knowing who I am. Deceiving you was gnawing at my conscience.”

  “All right, I imagine it was.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Now that I know, I am still asking you to marry me. A union would benefit us both.”

  “There’s another reason I can’t marry you.”

  He sighed. His fists slipped to his hips. The toe of his shiny boot scuffed the dirt.

  “Because you are in love with Travis Murphy?”

  “Gosh almighty, how’d you know that?”

  “It shows—whenever you look at him or say his name.”

  “I reckon I’m no good at keeping secrets.”

  “Neither is he.” William shrugged. “I suppose there’s no use trying to argue with a woman in love.”

  Funny, but William looked nervous. She’d never seen him look anything but confident.

  “Something troubling you, Bill?”

  “There might be.” He withdrew an envelope from his pocket. “I met Travis in the hall an hour ago. He was setting this on the foyer table. He seemed in an odd way. Warned me that I’d better appreciate you. Then he asked me to give this to you. I don’t like to say so, Ivy, but I got the feeling he was saying goodbye.”

  “I might like to sit now.”

  He could not be leaving, not now when she and Uncle Patrick had figured a way to save the ranch.

  William took her elbow and led her up the porch stairs.

  She plopped down hard on a bench and regretted it.

  “Travis loves the Lucky Clover,” she said when William sat down beside her. “I can’t think of why he’d leave.”

  “I didn’t read what he wrote, but I’d guess his leaving has something to do with that. And with loving you.”

  “Fool man probably knew I wouldn’t marry you after last—”

  A subtle smile twitched William’s mouth. “My guess is, he believes things will be better all round if he isn’t here. It’s his way to give you, and everyone else, a secure future. The way I see it, he’s giving up the thing he loves the most for the person he loves the most.”

  “Seems to me he might have said so to my face.”

  “He couldn’t have gone through with it if he did.”

  “Well, I haven’t read the letter yet. Maybe he’s only gone off to herd cattle for a week.”

  “Maybe,” William said, but his expression said he didn’t believe it.

  “You don’t have to lose everything, Ivy. You could still marry me.”

  “That’s a kind offer. Don’t think I haven’t wrangled with the idea for a long time. But you’d be sorry for it after a while. A man’s wife isn’t supposed to be in love with someone else. Would you mind being my friend and neighbor instead?”

  “I’d be pleased to be your friend. I don’t see how we’ll be neighbors, though. The note is coming due. You’ll lose the ranch.”

  “I won’t! I’ve figured a way to pay it.” Too bad Travis hadn’t stayed long enough to find out what it was. Gull-durned man! “Did I tell you I’m a gambler?”

  “You fascinate me, my friend.”

  “I can win the wings off a bee.”

  William laughed, his smile at her not that of a polished politician.

  “Are you asking me for a grubstake?”

  “Turns out I have one.” She was more fond of William English than she expected to be, but it was a good thing she wasn’t going to marry him. “I hate that I might have ruined your ambitions though. I know you need the ranch as much as I do.”

  “It’s sti
ll a long time before Wyoming becomes a state and I can run for governor.” He leaned sideways and kissed her cheek. “Maybe in the meantime, I’ll find a woman of influence who will love me as much as you love Travis.”

  “I expect you’ll find a dozen of them, Bill.”

  “Bill?” He clapped his hand over his heart. “I like it, Ivy. I’ll pick the first one to call me by that name.”

  * * *

  “This is better.” Antie fluffed the sleeve of Ivy’s shirt. Straightened the hem of her riding getup. “Now you are fit for traveling. I will burn those river rags while you are gone.”

  “Maybe just pack them away?”

  It had been her intention to wear her boat clothes back to the River Queen. The blamed thing was, once she put them on, they felt wrong...all floppy and ragged. Even the flowered strip of fabric she used for decoration seemed dull.

  Just went to show she was no longer who she used to be. She no longer had to put on the pretense of being a lady of high society, but neither was she the unfettered girl who had lived at large aboard the Queen.

  There were times when she liked letting loose of her clothes and running free, but other times when she liked looking pretty, just with her stays not as tight as they might be.

  “Go downstairs, now, ma chère. Your uncle will be waiting.”

  Curious. There was a blush on Antie’s cheeks when she spoke of Uncle Patrick. Curious and wonderful!

  “We won’t be away long.”

  No longer than it took to win enough to pay the note and get back home.

  Because this was now home to her as much as the Queen had ever been.

  Even though Travis had gone away, there were plenty of folks here she loved and had a responsibility for.

  As angry as she tried to be at Travis for leaving, she did understand. His note had been exactly as Bill had expected. He loved her, would always love her. But his sense of duty—his love of home and responsibility to the wishes of the man who had raised him like a son—went bone-deep.

  She knew all about love of home.

  And if she was going to keep this one for all of them, she would have to go away from it for a short time.

  Gosh almighty she was a different gal leaving than she had been coming.

  As Madame had predicted, Uncle Patrick was waiting on the front porch, impatient to leave. He must be even more anxious to see the Queen than she was...and she could nearly taste river weeds, hemp rope and old, damp wood.

  Agatha sat in a chair beside Uncle Patrick. She looked apprehensive.

  Ivy crouched beside her.

  “Don’t worry, sis, Uncle Patrick and I will be back quicker than a wink.”

  “I’m trying not to be a shrinking violet, honestly, I am.” Agatha clutched the strings of Little Mouse’s new pouch. She and Bill had located the sweet critter near the barn as he’d guessed. “But without Travis here, without you...”

  “Laura Lee will be here for you. Whatever you need... She’ll take you outdoors, make sure you get fresh air and exercise.” Ivy patted her sister’s hand, appreciating the brave smile she was trying to give. “Why, I reckon you’ll be running when you come to meet me and Uncle Patrick when we get back.”

  “I hope to be. But Ivy,” Agatha leaned close to her. “I’m worried about the laudanum. If you aren’t here and I find some, I might not be strong enough to leave it be.”

  “I’ve searched high and low,” Ivy whispered. “It’s gone. Besides, it won’t be long now before you get over the craving.”

  “What if Hilda Brunne comes back?”

  Her sister no longer called the woman mother. After hours of talking about what had happened, of showing her that yes, Brunne had loved her but not in a healthy way, Agatha had come to see that Brunne had used her as a way of perpetuating a fantasy.

  “We looked for days.” They had not found her wounded, or dead. It did not mean that she was not. The ranch was vast. But Hilda’s horse had not come home either.

  Hilda Brunne’s fate remained, and might always remain, unknown.

  “Everyone knows to be looking out for her, but really she is gone.” In one way or another.

  Ivy felt confident in leaving the Lucky Clover in the hands of Slim Morgan. He had cared for things in the past whenever Travis was away.

  “We’d best get going.” Uncle Patrick lifted Agatha’s chin between his thumb and finger, kissed her forehead. “When we return your home will be safe and free of debt.”

  Ivy removed her mother’s necklace from her throat and placed it around her sister’s neck. “Keep it for me.”

  “I’ll meet you when you get back, Ivy. I’ll be running.”

  Moments later, Ivy rode away from the ranch house—from her home—with Uncle Patrick at her side.

  He’d gotten better with horses, but not enough to keep him from cursing his sore backside every other mile.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was late September and still warm when Travis led his horse over the gangplank of the River Queen.

  After he’d met with the lawyer and secured Ivy’s interest in the ranch, he’d spent the rest of the month traveling with no real direction. When he heard there was to be big-time gambling aboard the River Queen, he’d headed north.

  Couldn’t say why, for sure. Maybe it was because he had nowhere else to go. Maybe because it was the River Queen where he first laid eyes on Ivy Magee.

  No, not Ivy Magee any longer. By now she would be Eleanor Ivy English. For some reason he couldn’t seem to get her new name out of his mind. It haunted him like a song whose lyrics one could not forget.

  Looking up at the white, three-storied boat in the fading sun of the late afternoon, he knew he had come here because of Ivy. The question was, had he come to remember or forget?

  He reckoned it didn’t really matter. He had no trouble in remembering everything about her. As far as forgetting went, he was realizing more and more that it was not going to happen.

  He’d seen her in a stranger passing on the far side of the street in the new town of Billings. He’d heard her voice coming from a saloon in Spoonlick. He’d listened to the rustle of her hair, her contented sigh under the stars on the wide-open plains.

  Wherever he went, she was there. When he’d heard that the Queen was docking in Middle Creek, that the rich and influential were coming to gamble, he’d decided to make the trip.

  He wasn’t rich and he wasn’t going to gamble, but there was something about being here that made Ivy seem real again.

  For weeks she had existed as a wisp of memory. Unless he was asleep. Then she was there in his mind, under his hands, warm flesh and loving whispers.

  Within a week of leaving home, he’d known he’d made a mistake. He was homesick and lovesick in equal parts.

  Wandering about, looking for a new place to settle had left him empty.

  Time to accept the fact that empty was going to be the way for him from now on since he could not go home.

  The place would never be the same anyway—not with Ivy a married woman.

  The fact that he was in love with her would only bring trouble. Didn’t matter that when he had fallen in love with her she was neither married nor attached. She was now, and if he went home, everyone would see the truth.

  They would also see a coward—at least Ivy would. He’d left the woman that he loved more than his right arm only a brief note in farewell. She deserved more than that.

  But by damn, it didn’t take much to imagine what would have happened if he’d tried to say goodbye face-to-face.

  One loving glance from her and he would have caught her up in his arms, carried her away on his horse and never come back.

  That act of selfishness would have doomed every person on the ranch, from Señora Morgan’s newest g
randdaughter to Agatha.

  There was one thing that brought him comfort through his wandering. The knowledge that William and his money would be there to hold everything together.

  To hold Ivy—The thought snuck up on him before he had a chance to block it.

  “You need a room, mister?” A boy’s voice called him back from the misery he was about to dive into.

  Looking up, Travis recognized him. Tom was his name. Tom knew Ivy. He and the boy had that bond, although the kid wouldn’t know it.

  “No, I’ll be staying down here with my horse.”

  “Come for a chance at the high stakes?”

  Why had he come? He ought to leave.

  “I might.” He did need a reason to be here. Maybe that’s why he’d come. Maybe he’d been longing for a game of chance and not even known it.

  “I’m thinking I’ll try my luck this time.” The boy took the horse’s reins from his hand, grinning. “Follow me. I’ll get you settled in. Better watch out for me though, I might just clean you out tonight. I learned to gamble from a wicked-grand player.”

  Hell if the kid didn’t mean Ivy. He’d seen her skills firsthand.

  The kid settled his horse in a stall near the paddle wheel.

  “I’ll take that one over there,” he said pointing a few feet away.

  It was the place he and Ivy had lain back in the hay, talking and getting to know each other.

  The boy raised one brow then the other. Probably thought he was touched in the head. He wasn’t wrong.

  When was the last time he’d had a shave or a haircut, even a bath with soap?

  It didn’t matter really. He’d rather wander around the boat visiting Ivy’s ghost than visit the barber in town.

  * * *

  The wood step creaked under Ivy’s foot the same as it always had. The Queen might have a new owner but nothing else seemed to be any different. For the most part even the crew remained the same.

  Funny, but when she first came aboard, no one recognized her. They ought to have since she was standing beside Uncle Patrick. Maybe it was because they were so plum pleased to see him, they didn’t notice her. Or maybe it was because she was wearing a dress and fancy hat with feathers and silk flowers on it.