The Cowboy's Cinderella. Carol ArensЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.”
Uncle Patrick stared at her for a long moment. She reckoned he was memorizing her face, same as she was his.
Slowly, he turned her about, his hands firm on her shoulders.
“Off with you now,” he said. “Go with your young man and claim your future.”
She wished Travis was her young man, she’d feel a sight more comfortable about this whole thing if he was. Travis was at least a friend, instead of a stranger.
Silently, she nodded then walked over the gangplank toward the unknown, pausing for only an instant to feel the aged wood rocking under her feet.
“Goodbye, you wonderful river,” she whispered.
Then Travis was there, offering his hand. She took it and stepped ashore.
Ivy stopped on the gangplank. Her hesitation was slight, barely more than a couple of heartbeats, but in that second Travis felt the future balance on a razor’s edge.
If she changed her mind—and no one would blame her for it if she did—the lives of those he loved would be damaged forever.
But then she came to him, taking the hand he offered, but more than that...accepting the future he offered.
“I bought you a horse,” he said, stating the obvious because he did not know what else was appropriate to say. “But back at the ranch you own a hundred more.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes at the pretty little mare that he had purchased. The horse was guaranteed to be gentle. He believed it; friendliness shone from her soft brown eyes.
“You want me to get up on that thing?”
“I thought you liked horses.”
This might be a setback. It would be Christmas before they got home if they had to walk to Wyoming.
“I do. I like them fine. I was talking about the saddle. Never been on one before.”
“You’ve never ridden?”
“Not much call to on a boat deck.”
“I reckon we can lead them for a mile or two, then when you’re comfortable, I’ll show you what to do.”
“Could take a lot of leading,” she admitted.
“I know this is all so strange to you.”
She nodded. “It feels like I’m going to live on the moon.”
“You’ll grow to like it. Everyone will welcome you like you are a queen.”
“I never aspired to be a queen...not even a princess.”
“I only meant that they will be forever grateful.”
Ivy stroked the mare’s nose, whispered something to her that he could not hear.
“Uncle Patrick is watching from the hurricane deck,” she said with a backward glance. “I reckon it would make it easier for him to see me riding. That will make him think that I’ll be all right.”
“You will be all right, better than all right.”
“Easy for you to say, my friend. You aren’t the one marrying a stranger.”
“Let’s take this thing step by little step. Starting with learning to ride.”
She took a breath, patted the pouch on her hat. “Sure is a long way up there.”
“Nice view of things once you settle in, though.”
“How do I go about settling in?”
The easiest way to get her on the horse would be to put his hands on her rear and hoist her up. But Patrick Malone was watching and Ivy’s rump was—
He had to look away quick. The heir was not meant for him. He’d better not let ruinous thoughts creep into his mind. Better to cut them off at the beginning before they got out of control.
Making a cup out of his joined hands, he indicated with a nod that she should put one foot in the cradle of his hand. “Hold on to the saddle horn and hoist yourself over.”
“Here I go. Make sure you catch me if I start to topple over the other side.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
But what did happen was that in rising, the ample curve of her breast, clad only in worn flannel, passed within an inch of his nose.
His heart thumped harder. He would not let that happen either. She had called him friend and so he would remain.
Anything more and he might just as well not have ripped her from the life she loved.
Although, as ripped as she no doubt felt, she had made the decision to go with him of her own free will. Yes, it had been aided by the sale of the boat, but still, no one had forced her.
“You look fine up there, Ivy.” He smiled up at her then mounted his horse. “You’ll make a good horsewoman.”
She turned in the saddle, waved to her uncle and gave him a big smile. “That’s a bit hopeful. Critter hasn’t even moved and I feel like I’m going to lose my breakfast.”
“You won’t.” He urged his horse forward and the mare followed. “All you have to do is hold on—your sweet girl will trail after my horse.”
“I’m putting my trust in you, Travis.”
Somehow, that simple statement made him want to deliver her back to her uncle. Her life was about to be spun about in a twister. Riding a horse instead of a ship was the least of what was to come.
But for now, she meant that she was trusting him to teach her to ride. “The rocking of her gait isn’t so different from the rocking of a ship. See how she rolls just like a deck.”
“If