Carol Arens - The Cowboy's Cinderella

“You know what she looks like? Maybe she goes by some other name?”

“I don’t. She’s got a twin sister with red hair, green eyes, about as tall as you and about your age. They weren’t identical though.”

“I always fancied having a sister.” In the subdued daylight he saw how blue her eyes really were. A sunny blond braid lay over her shoulder. “So much so that I dream of her sometimes. Why, when I was little I used to pretend to play with her. How’s that for fancy?”

Ivy flopped back in the hay, stretched her arms over her head and sighed. “Ain’t this a fine way to pass a stormy afternoon? Tell me about this ranch of yours.”

She patted the straw beside her, inviting him to join her in gazing at the rafters overhead.

Ivy was disarming, and unlike any woman he had ever met. He thought perhaps he liked her, liked her very much.

He lay down beside her. With his arms folded behind his head, he listened to the drum of rain hitting the deck several yards beyond the stall.

“It’s not mine. Not in a legal sense. I started running the place a few years ago when my boss took ill. I kept on after he passed. I feel the responsibility for the ranch like it was mine.”

“I’m right sorry, Travis. You loved him?”

It was easy to hear the regret in her voice. Spoken so softly, he knew she meant it.

“He became a father to me when I lost my folks. Gave me a home when I was a lost little boy.”

“What a kind man he must have been.”

“Kind, yes, and ambitious. It’s a big spread. The biggest in Laramie County...one of the largest in Wyoming.” He closed his eyes, picturing miles upon miles of grassland. How the scent was fresh and how the wind rolled over it in a whisper. “I swear, Ivy, it’s the prettiest piece of land on God’s green earth. You can ride all day long and not get from the east end to the west.”

She eased up on her elbow, gazing down at him. “The land has your heart...just like the river has mine.”

“The Lucky Clover is a special place.”

“The Lucky Clover?” She blinked, grinned, and dug under the collar of her shirt. “Don’t that beat all? Look, my ma gave me this necklace before she passed. It’s got an L and C etched on it. The C’s a mite faded so it could be an O. My Uncle says it must be the initials of some long gone relative. But ain’t that a coincidence?”

“It’s pretty, even though it’s faded...and I’m sorry,” he said. When she looked puzzled he added, “About you losing your mother.”

“I’ve been told I cried for a week solid, but I was only two years old and don’t recall the event anymore.”

“What about you father?”

“I never did recall him.” Thunder rolled overhead. “So this Eleanor, she’s going to inherit the whole ranch?”

“If I can find her.”

“What happens if you can’t?”

He groaned out loud. He didn’t really want to talk about it, he’d prefer to just lie here in the straw and forget for a moment.

“The ranch will fail without her.” Wind whistled around the lower deck blowing in a hail of raindrops, but they didn’t reach inside the stall. “There’s a big mortgage note coming due. If we can’t pay it a lot of folks will lose their livelihoods, their homes. People who have lived on the Lucky Clover their whole lives will be put out.”

“I can’t imagine losing my home here on River Queen.” She sat up, frowning and glancing about. “Some say the trains will be the end of the river trade, but I think folks will always want to gamble on a steamer.”

“I hope that’s true, Ivy.”

“And I hope you find your heir.”

All of a sudden, he wanted to reach up and touch her cheek. In spite of her boyish clothing, her skin was fair, pink cheeked with a light smattering of freckles across her nose.

He laced his fingers together behind his head.

“Even if I find her I’ve got to convince her to do something I reckon she won’t want to.”

“She might...if she gets a sister and a fine ranch for the trouble.”

“She’ll have to marry our rich neighbor. It’s the only way to get the ranch out of the debt it’s fallen into.”

“Gosh almighty!” Ivy clasped her hand to her throat. “What are you going to do when she says no?”

“You think she will? I’m offering a lot in exchange.”

“I think it depends upon her life. Maybe she’ll be willing if she’s a lonely spinster...but I don’t see that she’s old enough to give in to that yet. And what if she’s married already with a pack of young’uns...but I wonder if she might be a widow...in that case you have some hope.”

“I do know that she is not married. The Pinkerton I hired didn’t know much, but he knew that, and that she is supposed to be living on this boat.”

“Could be he meant the River Belle. She sails the Missouri.” Ivy’s hat began to tilt even though she hadn’t touched it. “Good news if that’s so. We’re putting into dock beside her tomorrow night at Bridgerton Landing. Big gambling day for both boats with rich folks coming from all over.”

Something...a mouse, tumbled from Ivy’s hat! He swatted at the dirty vermin, anxious to keep it off Ivy.

She laughed, reached out and caught the creature in the palm of her hand.

She nuzzled its white head with her nose.

“Don’t tell me you’re skittish over a little old mouse?”

“Repelled more than—”

All of a sudden Ivy placed the mouse in his hand.

“Little Mouse is a sweet thing once you get to know her.”

The “sweet thing” nipped his thumb.

“See? She likes you?”

“Where’d it come from?”

Ivy took the hat from her head, pointed to a pocket attached to the brim.

“She lives here in my hat when we’re out. She’s got her own little cage in my room.” The mouse leapt from his hand and onto Ivy’s shirt. It scrambled up to sit on her shoulder. “You will keep my secret, won’t you? There’d be the dickens to pay if anyone but Tom knew about her.”

“It can’t be healthy, wearing a rodent on your head.”

“Well, she’s white, and not vermin. Little Mouse is as clean as you or me. And she’s tidy of habit...goes off to do her business.”

“Ivy, that’s—”

“None of your business, Travis.” Her eyes narrowed at him, daring him, he thought, to believe otherwise.

“Not my business to tell, is what I was about to say. But I still don’t think mice ought to live in ladies’ hats.”

All of a sudden she started to laugh, deep from her belly.

“Can’t you picture that?” she sputtered, trying but not able to control her giggles. “All the screaming and swatting...the fainting?”

He did see it, smiled, then burst out laughing along with her. He sat up, bent over at the middle. All of a sudden his worry felt twenty pounds lighter.

When the humor began to even out, she swatted his knee.

“It’s a lucky thing I’m no lady. I’d sooner fall in the river and never come up than be like one of those poor females.”

He’d always been partial to the sweet gender, enjoyed their delicate, flirtatious ways.

But he’d never forget Ivy. She was not the water nymph he’d fantasized over...she was so much more.

* * *

Morning dawned bright as a new penny. Climbing the outdoor stairs to the pilothouse Ivy breathed deep, savoring the fresh scent of river and pine.

This was going to be a good day filled with the wonder of learning the river, then come nightfall the excitement of games of chance.

“Howdy-do, Uncle Patrick!” She crossed the small space to give her uncle a hug around the middle. “Did we turn a profit last night?”

“Not much, my money-minded little love, but tonight we should earn enough to keep you happy.”