by Griggs, Winnie; Pleiter, Allie; Hale, Deborah; Nelson, Jessica
Ivy stepped inside to see the room was divided in half by a low half wall. On one side was the sweet shop. On the other side was what looked like a toy workshop. Display cases contained all manner of tasty-looking treats, and shelves were filled with wooden and tin toys.
Candy and toys—what a magical place.
Eve came bustling over as soon as she spotted them. “There you are. We were beginning to worry that you’d changed your mind.”
“Not a chance,” Mitch said, holding out the basket. “Ivy just stopped to pick these for you.”
Eve’s eyes lit up as she accepted the basket. “Oh, how beautiful!” She turned to Ivy. “And how thoughtful. Come along to the kitchen and we’ll find something to put them in.”
Ivy felt a strange sense of being set adrift as she left Mitch’s side. But he gave her an encouraging smile, almost as if he’d read her feelings.
Braced by that smile, she followed Eve as Mitch was drawn into the circle of menfolk arranging the tables for the upcoming meal.
When Ivy stepped into the kitchen, she found a roomful of women working amicably together. Daisy and Reggie were unpacking hampers of food. Mrs. Peavy was stirring something on the stove. Someone had spread a pallet in the far corner of the room and Abigail sat there with Daisy’s baby in her lap, holding up a wooden rattle to amuse Reggie’s Patricia.
“Look at the beautiful flowers Ivy brought us,” Eve announced.
The women immediately gathered around to admire the contents of the basket. There were oohs and ahhs as Ivy’s contribution was examined in detail.
“Wherever did you get such beautiful blooms?” Reggie asked.
“From Mrs. Pierce’s garden.” Then she quickly clarified. “I had her permission.”
“Eileen let you pick her flowers?” Mrs. Peavy remarked. “Well, mercy me, isn’t that something? That garden is her pride and joy.”
In short order, Eve found a large vase and several jars to place the flowers in. While the others went back to their cooking and babysitting duties, Ivy separated and arranged the flowers.
“You have quite an eye for that,” Abigail said.
Ivy shrugged selfconsciously. “I like working with plants.” Then she smiled at the sixteen-year-old. “And it looks like you are very good with the children.”
Abigail grinned with pixielike impishness. “It’s not very difficult when you have two sweeties like these.”
Ivy nodded, then went back to work on the flowers. It was so nice to be here amongst these women, but rather bittersweet, as well. She wasn’t really one of them, no matter how kindly they went about including her. In a few weeks’ time, she’d be leaving, after all.
“It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?”
Ivy glanced up quickly to see Eve watching her with a sympathetic smile.
“Pardon?”
“Being thrown into the midst of such a large group of near-strangers—it can be overwhelming.”
Ivy nodded, hoping she hadn’t done anything to make her new friends uncomfortable.
“It’s only been about seven months since I was the new person here,” Eve continued. “And I remember very well how, even though everyone was warm and welcoming, I still felt like an outsider for a while.”
So Eve really did understand. “You seem very much a part of the group now. What was your secret?”
Eve laughed. “I suppose marrying Chance helped.”
That was no help. Marrying her way in wasn’t going to happen for her. No matter how much she’d begun to contemplate the idea.
“But truly, these people accepted me into their midst before Chance ever thought about proposing.”
Ivy liked the sound of that.
“There’s absolutely no need for you to feel like an intruder,” Eve continued. “Those four good men respect each other and are closer than they would have you believe or even admit to themselves. If Mitch thinks you belong here, then that’s the only stamp of approval you need with the rest of them.”
Ivy suddenly found herself wondering if Mitch had brought other women to this gathering.
Taking herself to task, Ivy reminded herself again that in three weeks she would return home and never see these people again. Even if she did end up with land in Turnabout, Nana Dovie would never leave her home and that was that.
Preferring not to dwell on the thought of leaving, Ivy lifted one of the flower containers. “Where shall I put these?”
Eve put a finger to her cheek. “I think the vase should go on the candy counter. The smaller ones would look nice on the table in a row down the middle. Hopefully our menfolk have it set up by now.” She picked up one of the jars. “I’ll help. I need to see if the men have finished so I can put cloths on the tables.”
The men did indeed have everything set up, so while Eve spread the cloths, Ivy transported the remaining flowers from the kitchen. Almost without conscious thought Ivy glanced Mitch’s way and the approving smile on his face warmed her as she worked.
“Now, isn’t that a nice touch,” Eve’s husband said as Ivy placed the last jar of flowers onto the table. “It appears you like prettying up a place as much as Eve does.” He grinned and gave a gallant bow. “Which you both do quite well just by your presence.”
“Don’t mind him,” Eve said as she set out the napkins. “He can’t help himself—flirting is in his nature.”
“Alas, it’s true,” he said unrepentantly as he placed an arm around Eve’s waist. “But who can blame me for flirting with such lovely ladies as yourselves.”
Ivy smiled at his outrageous comment and realized she felt a little less like an intruder than she had earlier.
When the food was finally brought out and they were all seated, Mr. Dawson offered up the blessing, giving thanks for the food and the company gathered around the table. Then he stood and cleared his throat. “Before we dig in to this wonderful meal, Eve, Leo and I have an announcement to make.” He held out his arm, and Eve stood and stepped into his embrace, then shuffled aside to make room for Leo to stand between them.
Mr. Dawson paused to place a hand on the ten-year-old’s shoulder. “As of yesterday, the adoption process is complete. Leo is officially our son.”
A chaotic chorus of congratulations erupted as everyone stood to surround the trio. There were slaps on the back for Chance, delighted hugs for Eve and congratulations for the boy.
She was surprised to learn Leo wasn’t their natural son. Later she’d ask Mitch to tell her the story of how Leo had come to live with them, but for now she was happy to just share in their joy.
Ivy couldn’t tell which member of the newly formed family looked happier. Leo’s chest seemed about to burst with pride and the grin on his face could outshine the sun. But Eve’s and Chance’s faces shone with so much love and joy that it couldn’t help but touch the hearts of any who witnessed it.
Once everyone took their places again, Ivy found herself drawn into the conversation, as if she were a longtime friend of these people. Mitch, as usual, didn’t say much. But she noticed that when he did speak, people paid close attention.
Did he realize how much his friends respected him?
When the meal was over, everyone pitched in to clear the table. Then the men put the room back to order while the women cleaned the dishes and portioned out the leftovers.
Eve placed one of the packets in the basket Ivy had carried the flowers in. “This is for you and Mitch.”
Ivy shook her head. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. And I’m sure Mitch would agree. The leftovers should go to those who contributed to the meal.”
She suddenly realized she’d inadvertently used Mitch’s first name and nervously glanced around. Would anyone notice?
But Eve seemed more focused on the other part of Ivy’s statement. “You contributed those beautiful flowers. And Mitch always contributes to the meal, though it doesn’t surprise me that you didn’t know. That man is more closemouthed than a stone statue.”
Mitch had contr
ibuted? How?
Before she could ask, Reggie nodded. “Even though we’ve each told him it’s not necessary, Mitch has placed a standing order with the butcher. Every Saturday, regular as clockwork, either a roast or ham is delivered to whomever is hosting that week’s Sunday gathering.”
Why hadn’t he said something when she questioned him? But she already knew the answer—Mitch wasn’t one to boast over his own good deeds.
As the gathering broke up, she studied the family groupings. Only she and Mitch were solo. Would she ever feel the joy of becoming a wife and mother? It was a cherished dream that Lester had tried to steal from her. But being with these people—with Mitch—made her dare to hope she could still have it.
She glanced toward Mitch. She knew why she was still unmarried—Lester had robbed her of her reputation. But it made no sense to her that Mitch was still single. A man such as he—kind, generous, honorable—that kind of man should have no trouble finding a wife. Moreover, a wife who would treat him as he deserved.
The only explanation she could come up with was his grief over the loss of his wife.
He looked her way and gave her a questioning glance. Had he read something of her thoughts in her expression?
She flashed a quick smile, then busied herself with retying the string that was wrapped around the food in her basket. Mitch crossed the room to take the basket from her, and she relinquished it with a thank-you, then turned to say something to Abigail before he could question her.
It seemed natural for Mitch and Ivy to leave together—after all, they’d arrived that way. But Ivy was still aware of the eyes of her new friends on them as they did so.
When they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Mitch turned to her. “I suppose you’d like to check on Rufus?”
She nodded and they turned their steps toward his place.
Rufus greeted Ivy with his usual enthusiasm, but his attention quickly turned to Mitch—or more specifically, the basket in Mitch’s hand.
“Rufus! No!”
But Mitch accepted the animal’s less-than-decorous attention with good humor. “You can’t blame him—this food is worth getting excited over. I asked Eve to toss a bone or two in my packet so he’ll get his share.” He lifted the basket to her eye level. “I’ll divide the rest between us. We should each get a nice meal out of it.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t accept that.”
“Of course you can. The ladies always send me too much—you’d think they were trying to fatten me up for something. Besides, I’m certain sharing this is what Eve intended.”
Ivy took advantage of that opening. “Eve and Reggie told me you always furnish the main meat for the meal.”
He shrugged. “It seems fair since I don’t take a turn hosting.”
“But why didn’t you say something yesterday?”
“It wasn’t important.” Then he turned away. “While you and Rufus catch up, I’ll put this in the kitchen.”
Ivy absently ruffled Rufus’s fur, then picked up a stick and tossed it for him, her mind still on Mitch.
The man was such a puzzle. But a puzzle she wanted to solve.
She drifted across the lawn as she played with Rufus and almost before she realized it, she found herself in the backyard. The swing caught her eye and drew her like crumbs drew a mouse.
Mitch must have heard her because a few moments later he stepped out the back door.
He crossed the yard and stopped just out of reach of the moving swing. “Your food is in Mrs. Pierce’s basket whenever you get ready to go.”
“Mind if I ask you a question?” she asked from her perch on the swing.
His lips curved up in a wry smile. “I find trying to stop you is a waste of energy.”
She ignored that bit of teasing. “Why don’t you have any of your sketches hanging on your walls or up on your mantel, where folks could see them? They’re much too beautiful to keep hidden away.”
His expression didn’t change, but she saw a slight crease appear on his forehead. She’d come to recognize that as a sign he was about to close himself off again. “Those sketches are purely for my own enjoyment, not for display.”
This time she wouldn’t drop the subject. And there was only one response to such a stuffy answer. “How selfish.”
He blinked, obviously caught off guard by her words. “Hardly that, since I don’t ever have visitors.”
No visitors? But Mitch had friends here. Good friends, if the gathering today was any indication. Didn’t he see that?
“If both of those things you just said are true,” she replied, “then you’ve only proved that the drawings should be displayed.”
He gave her a puzzled look.
“If they’re for your pleasure only, and if no one ever comes here, then it only makes sense for you to display them so that you can enjoy them without worry that anyone else will accidentally enjoy them, too.” She hoped he caught the irony in that last bit.
“Quite a debater, aren’t you.” His tone was dry, but she didn’t detect any irritation. Still, she wasn’t sure if he’d meant the words as a compliment or not. She decided it didn’t matter, and forged ahead.
“Have you done any sketching lately? I mean, since we left the cabin.”
He nodded.
She stilled the swing and leaned forward eagerly. “May I see it?”
Something flashed in his expression—was it reluctance? Had she overstepped? But then he nodded.
“All right.”
She stood, but he held up a hand. “Keep your seat. I’ll bring it out here.”
Was he merely saving her a few steps? Or was he guarding her reputation again? Or was he forcing her to keep her distance?
When he returned, he didn’t hand over his sketchbook immediately. “It’s not finished yet. I still have some shading to do.”
She stood and smiled, holding out her hand. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He finally handed it over and she flipped open the cover. Then she gave a delighted smile. It was a sketch of Rufus. The dog stood on two legs, front paws braced against a tree and barking at something above him. She’d seen him in that very pose dozens of times. “You’ve captured him perfectly!”
Mitch rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought you might like to have this one.”
“You mean it? Oh, Mitch, I’d love to have this.” Impulsively she threw her arms around him, giving him a big hug. A moment later she realized what she’d done and stepped back, horrified.
The stunned look on his face did nothing to alleviate her embarrassment.
What must he think of her?
Chapter Fourteen
“Oh, my, I mean, oh, Mitch, I’m…I’m so sorry. I don’t know what—”
He’d recovered quicker than she had, cutting her stammering apology short by touching her arm lightly. “Please don’t apologize. I know it was merely an impulsive gesture of thanks, and I accept it as such.”
He was right, of course. That was all it had been. She’d have done the same with anyone, given the circumstances, wouldn’t she? And the fact that he’d momentarily slipped an arm around her in response had probably just been reflex, too, on his part.
She tried to cover her confusion with chatter. “It’s just that this is the best gift I’ve ever received.”
He gave a self-deprecating smile. “I doubt that, but I’m glad you like it. Now let me have it back so I can finish it.”
She gave it up reluctantly and he flipped the cover closed again.
Then she brushed at her skirt, not ready to meet his gaze yet, knowing her cheeks were still a bright pink.
“I should be going.” She needed to get away, to take stock of what had just happened without his very distracting presence beside her.
He gave her a long, searching look, and she had the feeling he was reading her thoughts. He finally nodded. “Of course. I’ll fetch the basket and then walk you home.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Perha
ps, but it is what I’m going to do. Besides, Rufus needs a walk. He’s been closed up in this yard for too long.”
Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness, I should have thought of that myself. I didn’t mean to saddle you with all of Rufus’s care.”
He shrugged. “I enjoy long walks. But, if it’ll make you feel better, we can walk him together.”
How could she refuse his company when he put it that way? “Of course.”
At least that impulsive hug hadn’t pushed him away. In fact, as far as she could tell, other than his initial startled reaction, it didn’t seem to have affected him at all.
Seeing as how he was her employer, that was a good thing. So why did it leave her with a dissatisfied feeling?
*
Mitch still felt that impulsive hug, could feel the impact of her throwing herself at him, of her arms wrapping around his chest, of his own arm wrapping around her in return in a gesture that felt all together too right.
It had been highly inappropriate, of course. Holding her, even for so brief a moment, had opened a floodgate of emotions that he’d long held at bay. And opening that particular floodgate was a dangerous thing.
But somehow he couldn’t regret that it had happened. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that kind of close physical connection.
Of course he couldn’t allow it to happen again. It wouldn’t be fair to Ivy.
No matter how good it felt.
But if Ivy’s demeanor was any indication, he didn’t need to worry about it. She’d appeared to have some very real regrets. And now she was unusually quiet, talking to Rufus in subdued tones and doing her best not to meet his gaze.
He certainly didn’t want things to get awkward between them. After all, she’d be working in his home for the next three weeks.
Perhaps it was time he made the effort to carry a conversation.
Mitch cleared his throat. “How do you like your new accommodations?”
She glanced his way. “The room is very comfortable. Much cozier than the hotel.”
She didn’t expand further and there was another silence.
He tried again. “And are you and Mrs. Pierce getting along okay?” Her decision to sit with her landlady during the church service had startled him, but only for a moment. Given that she knew the widow had few friends, he should have guessed she’d show public support.
