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“I’m dry enough where I am.” She looked at him then. “But you aren’t...if I were you I’d scoot closer to the fire.”
“All right, I reckon we can talk here. But if you start to shiver, I’m hauling you back to the inn whether you want to go or not.”
She glanced at the dreary sky and shook her head.
“Did my uncle change his mind about selling the Queen?” Her eyes seemed red and swollen. It cut him to the quick to know she’d been weeping. “I reckon he was threatening to sell in order to get me to leave with you.”
“I’m sorry, Ivy. He went to the captain of the Belle this morning...they made an agreement, shook hands on it.”
Rain tapped on the tarp. Ivy drew her knees to her chest and hid her face. When she looked up a single tear rolled over the curve of her cheek.
“The Queen is his life.” She wiped her sleeve across her face. “Can’t imagine what he’ll do now.”
“Look, Ivy, I spent a long time talking to your uncle the other night. The boat is not his life...you are. The decision he made, it was because it was best for you.”
“That’s not for anyone but me to decide.”
“As right as that sounds, sometimes life decides for us.”
She reached across the distance separating them and squeezed his hand briefly. Maybe she forgave him...a little bit anyway.
“Reckon you didn’t feel so in control of life when your folks died and left you alone.”
“I wanted to crawl in the grave with my ma and pa.” Even now it was hard to think about the desolation he’d felt. “But your father was there with his big hand on my shoulder. After a while I was glad to be alive after all.”
“Well, ain’t I a sniveling ninny?” She straightened her shoulders, flashed him an unreadable glance then wriggled her fingers at the flames. “Boohooing like a spoiled child.”
“Not a spoiled child, Ivy. The life you wanted has just been taken from you. You’ve a right to your grief.”
“I tried to get a job on a boat, got laughed at all the way back to shore...and all because I was a woman.”
“I know...I spoke with the crew. I believe you could put their skills to shame seven days a week—I reckon that’s what scares them...having a woman do a better job would shame them. It’s easier to hide behind laughter.”
“Sounds like you know something about that.”
“Your father raised me like I was his son. There were some early on who thought I got my position because of it. Thought my job ought to have been theirs.”
“I bet you worked twice as hard just to prove them wrong.”
“And you know something about that.”
She nodded, gazing quietly at the fire.
“I have a sister?” she murmured at last. “I ought to have known it...the way I always felt a part of me was missing. Sort of like, a person standing in the sunshine and not seeing her shadow...if that makes any sense. All those years I thought it was just dreams and child’s play because I wanted a sister so badly. Now I know all along I was missing Agatha.”
Ivy’s hat lay beside the fire, she turned it so that the pouch was away from the heat.
“Even hearing her name...it doesn’t sound like a stranger’s name. Uncle Patrick should have told me.”
“Right now, I guess he wishes he had. But all he ever wanted was to protect you and honor his sister’s last wish for him to be the one to raise you.”
“Don’t see why he couldn’t have done both,” she grumbled then sighed deeply. “Can’t see the harm in telling the truth.”
“At first, when your parents divorced, there were plenty of hard feelings. Your father wouldn’t let your mother take both of his girls. Your uncle says that your mother was afraid that if your father knew where you were, he’d take you back. He had the money and the power to do it. It was your mother’s dying wish that Patrick raise you...so he kept your past a secret from you and everyone else.”
“All I ever knew was that my pa was a good man, a rancher who died young. How is it that you know so much when the only thing I know is a bald lie?”
“Like I said, your uncle and I talked for a long time. Everything he did was out of love for you. Even selling the boat. He didn’t come to his decision to do it without a lot of thought. I told him all about the ranch and about William English.”
“Who’s that?” she asked, her expression suddenly wary.
“The man who hopes to marry you.” There was no point in denying it.
“Gull-durned fellow, doesn’t know a whit about me!”
No he did not...and when he did, would the deal be off? William was expecting a high society bride, one of impeccable manners to charm voters and help accomplish his political ambitions.
Travis’s stomach felt hollow at the thought. Ivy was not the type of bride English was expecting.
In the end, it might not matter since there was every chance that Ivy would refuse to come with him.
“I got any other relations I don’t know about?”
“Only Agatha, but the folks at the ranch, they all feel like family.”
“Tell me about them, might help if I know.”
Help what? Her decision, he hoped.
“It’s like we’re a big family...there’s a lot of people involved in running the ranch. In the house we have Maria, she’s the head cook. Then there’s the girls who work under her, mostly the daughters of the hands. There’s Rebecca, the housekeeper who keeps things neat and tidy with her crew of girls. There’s Master Raymond, the schoolteacher for the children...the adults too, when things slow down for the winter. There’s Hilda Brunne, Agatha’s nurse. We’ve got cowboys, most with families and we have caretakers who keep the ranch in running order. Arthur runs the stable along with the three boys he’s training. Wouldn’t want to forget Elise, she does the household laundry. We’d be ripe smelling without her, then—”
“I think I’m getting dizzy. That’s a lot of folks. Reminds me of the Queen with everyone having a part to do.”
“It’s a lot like that, but on the land not the water.”
“Got any rivers for swimming on all that land?”
He hated to dash the hope suddenly lighting her eyes, but, “There’s water, we call it a river, but it’s not anything like your Missouri.”
“Don’t reckon it’s my Missouri anymore.” She picked up a stone beside her foot, tossed it into the fire. “Tell me more about Agatha.”
“Your uncle says it broke your mother’s spirit when she had to leave Agatha behind. Later on, your father told me he loved your mother, for all that they didn’t suit. It wasn’t for spite that he kept Agatha, but through her he hoped to keep part of his wife.
“I never met your mother. The two of you were gone when Foster took me in. From what he’s always told me about her, I reckon you take after her.”
“I don’t recall much about Mama, just flashes of memory...a picture here and an image there. I want to know about my sister. What is she like?”
“She’s something of a recluse...and shy. Not much for conversation. I’ve tried to engage her but she’s just not interested in much of anything...especially lately.”
“Was she always withdrawn?”
“When I was a boy, I never paid attention, really. She was just a little girl and I had my own growing to do. But I do recall one day asking your pa if she could ride with me. He said she was sickly and he would not risk her health for a bit of fun. Mrs. Brunne, her nurse, agreed with him. A few years ago, Agatha nearly died of a fever. It left your father shaken and even more protective than he had been. According to Mrs. Brunne, she became unable to walk. The things she likes are reading and sitting on her balcony.”
“Gosh almighty, I know something about fevers, but I never heard of one leaving a person lame.”
Ivy stared at the flames without speaking. Rain tapped on the tarp. Travis’s heart beat triple time because he figured Ivy was going over what he had told her—possibly making up her mind about things.
“Unless I agree to go with you to marry that man...” Ivy’s voice was barely above a whisper. It almost seemed as though she was talking to herself. “...the ranch will be lost and my helpless sister will have no home.”
Travis nodded his head. Losing the ranch would be hard on everyone but it would be especially ruinous for frail Agatha.
“I can’t rightly say I want to get married, especially to some stranger.” Ivy gazed over at him, her eyes narrowed. “Can’t quite figure why he’d want to marry me either. Maybe he’ll just give you a friendly loan, being neighbors and all.”
“He needs the ranch. He’s running for territorial legislature of Wyoming so being the owner of respected property will buy him votes.”
“Gosh almighty,” she murmured then gazed out at the rain dripping from the tree branches all around.
“All day long I’ve been walking and thinking, thinking and walking, my head all abuzz...and, Travis, I want to be with my sister.”
His heartbeat raced, he began to sweat even though he was cold.
“And I sure don’t want the two of us living in a tent beside the road.” She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Looks like you’ve got yourself an heir, Travis Murphy. As long as I can bring my mouse.”
He hugged her quick and hard, couldn’t help it. “Bring a dozen if you want to!”
“One’s trouble enough.”
“Let’s go back to the inn. It’s not far.”
“Your horse would appreciate it. Poor thing’s getting soaked.”
He stood, placed her hat on her head then gathered up the tarp.
“You won’t be sorry, Ivy. I swear on my life you won’t be.”
“I’ll ask one thing.” She touched his arm. He liked the feel of her fingers there. He liked the way her eyes looked extra blue with raindrops spattered on her lashes. “Will you take me back to the River Queen? I need to make peace with my uncle. I promise I won’t carry on and beg to stay. Just... I need to say my goodbyes.”
“I’ll do anything, Ivy...anything you ask.”
Whatever was in his power, he would do it.
* * *
She’d vowed not to wail and carry on, but the promise was proving hard to keep.
“Goodbye, Tom,” she said. Tom was the last of the crew she embraced in a hug. She held on a little longer than the boy might be comfortable with, but there was still one person to bid farewell to and she was putting it off.
Uncle Patrick. She was not sure she could do it.
The weakling in her wanted to run away and wave goodbye from a distance.
The one and only way she would be able to manage was to remember that this was what he wanted for her. What he wanted so badly that he was willing to give up what he loved the most...all right, what he loved nearly the most.
It had taken some time, and some talking with Travis on the way back to the River Queen, to be able to accept it because the way she had first looked at things, the selling of the Queen was a betrayal.
Ivy had always considered the boat to be her legacy...but maybe something else was her legacy instead.
Something big and vast. Acres upon acres of land. To hear Travis go on about it, the whole time his voice filled with wonder.
And it was all hers until she married. Then, she reckoned, it would belong to her husband. That didn’t set well.
A husband could do what he wanted where his wife was concerned. If he decided that she and Agatha ought to live in the barn he had the power to send them there.
Gull-durn it, that was a worry for another time. In this moment she had her heart full of saying goodbye.
Standing on the main deck, she looked up to see her uncle gazing down at her. He pushed away from the rail then began his descent down the steps. She listened to his footsteps, picturing where he was by the creak that each board made. Every sound this vessel uttered was carved on her heart.
She strained to hear because it was like the boat was talking to her, saying its own goodbye.
Travis stood on the shore with a pair of horses. All her worldly goods, which were not many, had been stuffed into the saddle packs.
Travis waved. She nodded back.
Too soon, Uncle Patrick was there, holding his arms wide for her to rush into them.
His embrace swallowed her, was nearly her undoing, but she held together, remembering that she was going to Agatha.
She wanted to say that she forgave him for keeping the secret of her past but her throat was too tight for words.
“I love you, Uncle Patrick,” she managed to whisper against his chest.
“And I love you, my brave little love.” He set her at arm’s length but didn’t let go. “This is for the best.”
She nodded because her voice might betray her and she did not want him to think she believed otherwise.
“What will you do, uncle?”
At least Ivy was headed to a new future...whatever it ended up being. For Uncle Patrick, he’d never lived any place but on the water.
“I’ll think of something.” He patted her head and smiled. “Now that I’ll be a landlubber, maybe I’ll get married.”
“That would be fine.”
“I’ve got something for you, Ivy.” He dug into his pocket. “Well, two things.”
He slipped her mother’s pendant about her neck. She reached up, closed it in her fist. It felt right to have the memento back where it belonged.
“And here.” He pressed an envelope into her hand. “It’s money. This marriage is a good thing—I want that for you—but a woman should have something of her own, in case of hard times. Your groom doesn’t even have to know about these funds. Travis has agreed to store them for you should you need them...which I don’t think you will, given that your intended is well-off.”
