The Cowboy's Cinderella. Carol Arens
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу The Cowboy's Cinderella - Carol Arens страница 13

Название: The Cowboy's Cinderella

Автор: Carol Arens

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Исторические любовные романы

Серия: Mills & Boon Historical

isbn: 9781474053402

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ 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 I fall off the deck, I’ll hit water. I fall off this saddle it’s hard ground.”

      “This new life will be strange for a while,” he said, glancing behind and seeing that the River Queen had disappeared from view. “I’m here, Ivy, you don’t need to worry.”

      * * *

      Ivy was worried.

      No longer worried about falling out of the saddle, but on this second night camping outside, she wondered if she would ever sleep again.

      The land, while not quite silent, was lacking in the comfort of human sounds. With the exception of Travis’s deep, even breathing, that is. The man slept like a baby in his mama’s arms.

      At home on the Queen, Ivy had been lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the boat and the knowledge that someone was always awake and keeping watch. She would stir in the night to hear footsteps going past her door, then whispered voices as the watch changed hands.

      Out here there were rustling critters in bushes, owls and bats overhead...worst of all were the howls of coyotes and wolves moaning over the land.

      She sat up suddenly from her bedroll, too aware that there were no walls, no buffer of water between her and them.

      “Travis?” she called. He lay stretched out, relaxed, on the far side of the fire.

      He lifted his hat from his face to...yes, to glare at her. But, gull-durn it, it wasn’t her fault that the wolf sounded closer and bigger than it had five minutes ago.

      “That wolf’s getting closer. Little Mouse is nervous about it.”

      “Not a wolf, a coyote, and it won’t come near the fire.”

      He’d assured her of that three times in the past few hours, but in her opinion, it did sound closer.

      “She’s also cold. She’s used to being in my room all warm and cozy.” Truthfully, the mouse was probably toasty inside her pouch. It was Ivy who was cold.

      And sore. Every time she felt a mite comfortable trying to rest on the ground, her muscles would begin to ache. One couldn’t spend all day in the saddle without paying a price.

      All right, Travis could, she would have to admit. But as much as he assured her that her aches would go away, she didn’t believe it...not any more than she believed this little fire would keep a pack of hungry predators at bay.

      Travis sat up, rubbed his hand over his face. Then with a groan, he reached for the woodpile and tossed two logs on the fire. Sparks crackled toward the treetops.

      “That better?”

      “Warmer,” she admitted. “But it seems to me that it sends a big signal, letting those hungry critters know where we are.”

      “They already СКАЧАТЬ