The Cowboy's Cinderella

скачать книгу бесплатно


“I don’t know a thing about running a ranch.”

“You won’t need to. That’s my job.”

“But I want to. If it’s really mine, I won’t sit about as useless as a feathered hat.”

“You don’t like pretty feathered hats? Most ladies do.”

“Why I’d feel sorry for the bird those feathers first belonged to every time I put it on. Besides, they’d tickle my neck. I tell you, Travis, when it comes to their appearance, ladies can be as foolish as peacocks. Struttin’ around in their finery with nary a care for comfort. Downright traps is what those feathers and lace are.”

Travis made a noise under his breath. Sure wasn’t a happy sound. More like a curse but without the word formed.

He crawled back to his side of the fire, stretched out then covered his face with his hat.

“Don’t know why you’re so prickly, Travis Murphy. You don’t have to wear them.”

He grunted again, then pretended to be asleep.

She was not mistaken that the wolf pack—and she was gull-durned certain they were not coyotes—had come closer. Since Travis had taken his gun and stored it under his saddle, she hoped he was right about the fire keeping them away.

“Sure do hope this ranch house you’re taking me to has four solid walls,” she grumbled.

For some reason, that made Travis chuckle in his false sleep. She was relieved to hear the sound.

* * *

Travis knelt beside the kindling he had stacked for the night’s campfire. He paused in igniting the match to watch Ivy wading in the knee-deep stream.

Her pant legs were rolled up to her thighs. Her braid dangled over her shoulder as she bent at the waist, peering into the water. Little Mouse clung to the collar of her shirt, peering at the water as intently as Ivy was.

She had promised fresh fish for supper. Without fishing gear he couldn’t figure how she’d manage it.

No doubt they would end up eating jerky and hardtack again tonight. But for now he was enjoying watching her try to catch a fish. She moved gracefully through the rushing stream, sometimes standing as still as an egret before she glided a few more steps.

Behind her, the land rolled away to the horizon where the setting sun streaked the clouds in brilliant orange. He’d rarely seen a prettier, more dramatic vista.

This incredible, once-a-year sunset was the perfect backdrop for a once-in-a-lifetime woman.

The scene before him was one that he would always cherish, no matter where his life took him...or hers took her.

Once in a while there were moments out of time that one could only embrace.

But a second later, the thought of where Ivy’s life was about to take her suddenly turned his stomach sour.

In the beginning, when he had begun his search for Eleanor, he’d given her future no more than a passing concern. Any woman would certainly want what he was offering: land, wealth and a prominent husband.

Women all over the state would envy Ivy.

All of a sudden he could not look at her. He lit the kindling and added three small logs, watching while the sparks caught and the tiny flames reached for wood.

He was beginning to fear that she was the one woman who would not want what he offered.

She wanted her sister, yes. But the rest?

Hearing water splash and Ivy laugh, he looked up.

“Got us a big fat one, Travis!” She held up her catch, waving it victoriously in her fists. Little Mouse slipped but caught Ivy’s shirt with four pink paws and scrambled inside her breast pocket. “Want one more?”

“That one’s big enough for three!” he called back.

For a moment, he tried to picture her in a frilly dress nipped tight at the waist like the ladies wore them. She would look lovely. There was no denying it. But would it make her happy?

From what she’d had to say about fashion so far, he doubted it.

All he could hope for was that she would learn to be comfortable with it. The future of everyone at the Lucky Clover depended upon her being willing to become elegant.

“Heat up the pan while I gut this critter,” she said, standing beside him now, her calves and ankles spotted with water that sparkled on her skin with the final rays of the setting sun.

He glanced up at her; the satisfaction of catching dinner bare-handed made her blue eyes light up with pleasure. The mouse crept out of her pocket then crawled up her shirt to sit on her shoulder.

Was it even possible for Ivy to become elegant? Would she end up with a crushed spirit, the same as had happened to her mother?

There would be no divorce for Ivy, though. No second chance at life. William English was not a cruel man, but he was ambitious. His wife would be a reflection of him. Perfection would be required of her.

Given who he was, William would be a perfect husband, a match to his perfect wife, at least in the public eye.

If that did not turn out to be the case privately, William would never allow divorce to ruin the ideal image.

“Better get that pan going!” This time Ivy’s voice came from beside the stream. “I’m so hungry I’d fight a bear for this fish!”

He watched her while he fetched the pan from his saddle pack.

Kneeling beside the water, she sliced the fish down the middle. Scooping out the innards, she tossed them into the stream.

They had spent thirteen nights on the road to Cheyenne. The first three had been sleepless misery, but not the last ten. In fact, night before last she had only woken him once, fearing that she heard a bear rustling in the shrubbery.

Which, she had. But the small brown critter had fled when Travis banged the fry pan and the kettle against each other.

“Gosh almighty, you’re brave!” she’d declared, grinning at him in clear admiration.

Then she’d slept on his side of the fire the rest of the night without waking. But last night she’d slept on her own side of the fire.

Funny how he’d been the one to wake up, hoping the sounds in the night would be Ivy Magee coming to lie beside him again.

As much as he knew it was wrong to want that, he’d continued to toss about, seeing images of her in his mind and wondering if...wondering nothing. Unrestricted wondering would be a big mistake.

Watching her now while the pan heated, smiling with pride at her filleted fish, he knew it was a damn good thing that they would reach Cheyenne in two days.

That was when he would need to begin making a lady out of Miss Eleanor Ivy Magee. She wouldn’t feel so friendly toward him then, and he might find it easier to resist her earthy charm.

There was no doubt that she was going to resist the restrictions on her dress and behavior. Looked at fairly, who was he to force them upon her?

Only the man fighting for the survival of the Lucky Clover and everyone on it.

He could only hope that after a time, she would come to see that this new life was for the best.

Given time, she would forget the ways of the river and embrace being a fine lady.

Curse it, that thought ought to put him at ease. All it did was turn his belly sour, keeping him from anticipating eating his share of that hand-caught fish.

Chapter Five (#ulink_6b9197f6-a2d4-53ce-aa32-6fbb8840e45d)

There were some things Ivy had gotten used to, even come to enjoy.

One thing was the sway of the horse’s gait beneath her was no longer frightening. So far, she hadn’t tumbled out of the saddle. She reckoned she wouldn’t, now that she was better used to things. Besides, it really wasn’t that far to the ground.

Another was—and this did surprise her—as long as Travis was close by, she was able to fall asleep beside the campfire. It didn’t appear, after all, that she was going to be eaten by a wolf or torn to pieces by a marauding bear.

Also, the folks they had met along the way were as friendly as pie.

But gosh almighty, just when she’d begun to think she might get by living away from the wide and wonderful Missouri River, she’d set eyes on the South Platte.

“This ain’t no river, Travis!” She’d stood at the bank, staring in dismay at the ribbon of brown cutting the land. “Why, a body couldn’t even paddle a canoe down the middle of this mud puddle.”

In her mind, a respectable river ought to gurgle and ripple. It ought to be overhung with trees. For as far as she could see, those green beauties were scarce.

Land stretched out forever, unbroken by anything but the skyline of Cheyenne, which Travis had called the Magic City.

It was their destination today and even though they were still a couple of hours away, she could see tall buildings against the bright blue sky.

“This river is the life blood of your ranch,” he explained. “It’s what keeps your cattle watered.”

He looked nervous. Could be he thought she might hightail and run, given how ugly things were compared to where she had come from.

Here she was, though, and she would have to make the best of things. In the end, it was her sister she’d come to be with and the sad state of the water didn’t count for much by comparison.

Maybe she’d get used to looking up and seeing an ocean of rolling hills instead of a mountain range. As long as she had Agatha, she’d be happy enough.

But that was some miserable looking water.

“How’s a body to swim in the natural?” She wagged her finger at the sluggishly flowing water.

Travis Murphy’s jaw sagged. “Life is different now, Ivy. You just can’t go freely around like you did before.”

“I reckon I can if there’s miles of land that’s mine. I suppose I can do what I want to on it.”

“Maybe.” His frown set deep in his brow. “I guess I can send one of the help with you if you’ve got your heart set on bathing in the Platte.”

“Help?” Her heart flipped over on itself.

“Hired women? Ladies who work in the house?”

“I hope I’m not supposed to be in charge of them.” She’d never been in charge of anyone but Ivy Magee. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about that. I reckon they know what to do fine all on their own.”

“They do.” Poor Travis looked more worried by the minute. “But they might need your opinion, or advice once in a while.”

“Don’t know that I can advise anyone who already knows what they’re doing better than I do.” This whole business troubled the daylights out of her.

Travis walked to the shoreline. He stood shoulder to shoulder with her, staring at the water slogging slowly past.

“I reckon you wish someone else was the heir.” It bothered her to think that he did, but she couldn’t blame him for it. “I’ll do my best not to shame you.”

“Shame? I’m so damn grateful for you, Ivy.”

He turned to face her. Those lush green eyes all but made her weak in the knees. They reminded her of home...of the river and the trees. He tugged gently on her braid then let go so quickly that it was as if her hair had burned him.

“I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he said.

“I’m plum obliged.” She went up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I reckon I never had a better friend.”