“It’s as if she’s trying to prepare me for life without her.”
“Perhaps she’s merely preparing you for when you marry and have a kitchen of your own to manage.”
Her expression closed off. What nerve had he struck? Didn’t she dream of marriage the way other females did?
She made a noncommittal sound and focused on eating. Then she pointed her fork at him. “Have you always liked to draw?”
“I suppose.”
“Did you take lessons?”
“No, just trial and error.”
“Were you a schoolteacher back in Philadelphia?”
She certainly wasn’t shy with her questions. “For a time. Then I bought a farm and worked that for a while.” Which brought him back to memories he didn’t want to relive.
He speared another bite of fish and changed the subject. “When you’re not traveling long distances to claim an unspecified inheritance, what do you enjoy doing?”
“Working in the garden,” she said without hesitation. “And I’m good at it, if I do say so myself. Nana Dovie says I have the greenest thumb she ever did see.”
Mitch let her continue to talk about gardening for the rest of the meal, only occasionally commenting or asking a question when she paused. Later he insisted she nap while he stepped out onto the porch with his sketch pad. But he didn’t pick up his pencil. Instead he stared at the tree line, focusing on nothing in particular.
Thankfully that near-kiss on the trail didn’t seem to have affected her trust in him. Which was a good thing, of course.
So why was he staring off into space, wishing things could be different?
Chapter Six
“What’s the verdict? Can Jubal travel today?”
Ivy wasn’t certain which answer she wanted Mitch to give. Yesterday had been just downright enjoyable. After her nap, Mitch had taken her to a beautiful meadow and she’d brought armloads of wildflowers back to the cabin, filling jars and pitchers with them and setting them all around. She could tell Mitch was amused by it all, but not in an unkind way.
She’d give a lot to have just one more day in this idyllic spot. But she had obligations that she couldn’t fulfill here.
“Ideally, he could use another day of rest,” Mitch answered, “but I know you’re worried about Nana Dovie. So I think, if we take it slow and easy, he can probably make it to Turnabout without experiencing much of a setback—as long as you’re not riding him.”
Ivy was puzzled. “Are you saying I should walk?”
“There is another option.” His tone was carefully neutral, his gaze assessing. “We can ride double on Seeley.”
Ivy blinked, not certain she’d heard right. Was the always-concerned-with-propriety Mitch Parker actually suggesting they ride double?
“We’ll have to go slow and take frequent breaks to make certain we don’t overtax either animal,” he continued. “But we should still make it to town well before dark if we leave in the next few hours.”
Apparently he was serious. She felt a sudden shyness at the thought of that long ride together.
He must have sensed her hesitation. “It’s your choice. We can wait until tomorrow if you prefer.”
This was no time for missishness. Ivy shook her head. “Not at all. But do you think Seeley can carry us both that far? I don’t want to pamper Jubal at your horse’s expense.”
“Seeley will be fine, especially at the pace we’ll be setting.”
“Then that’s what we should do. I’ll sure feel better once I’ve sent that telegram to Nana Dovie.” And surely he wouldn’t have suggested this if there were anything really improper about it.
He nodded, his expression still unreadable.
They set to work and made preparations to leave. And all the while, she kept telling herself not to be such a nervous twit about the upcoming trip.
When they finally closed the door on the cabin, Ivy had the strangest feeling she was leaving a special haven, a place where nothing more troublesome than hungry mosquitoes had been able to touch them.
But now it was time to head back into the real world and face whatever challenges awaited her. If only she had a little more time alone with her white knight—
She shook that thought off before she could complete it—she should focus on practical considerations, not daydreams and foolishness.
Mitch led the animals to the front of the cabin, and Ivy approached Jubal and petted his nose. “Sorry to press you back into service so soon, but we’ll go as easy as we can.”
When she stepped aside, Mitch attached Jubal’s lead to Seeley’s saddle. Then he faced her. “I think this will work best if I ride in front.”
She nodded, that shy feeling returning. Hopefully Mitch didn’t seem to notice anything unusual in her demeanor. He turned and mounted in one quick, fluid motion; then he nudged Seeley, prompting the horse to move next to the porch steps. Ivy took his hand and was in the saddle almost before she could give it much thought. She’d changed into the britches again, deciding that would be the easiest way to do this. She’d change back into more ladylike clothing before they reached town.
“Wrap your arms around my waist,” Mitch said. “I assure you, it won’t restrain or hurt me.”
Ivy hesitated. That meant she’d be all but embracing him for whatever time it took to get to Turnabout. Despite the fact that Lester had succeeded in convincing the folks back in Nettles Gap that she was a fallen woman, it was a familiarity she hadn’t ever experienced before.
But this was a purely practical accommodation, driven by necessity. Besides, if Mr. Fusspot saw no problem with the arrangement, it had to be perfectly respectable.
She took a deep breath and did as he’d instructed.
Her arms didn’t come close to reaching all the way around his broad chest. Not that she tried. Instead, she held herself stiffly upright, trying to leave a bit of space between them.
“Relax,” he said gently. “I won’t let you fall. And it’s going to be a long ride.”
She was relieved that he thought she was only worried about falling, though his words and his tone did ease some of her tension. She shifted, tightening her hold and allowing herself to lean against his broad back.
“That’s better.” He gathered the reins. “Ready?”
“Ready.” She supposed better was one way to describe it. Very safe and altogether too cozy was another.
With a click of his tongue and a slight movement of his knees, her white knight set his steed in motion.
* * *
Ivy was obviously on edge. Was she uncomfortable with this enforced closeness? For all her apparent independence, Mitch sensed she was still naive and innocent in many ways. Which was as it should be.
The best way to put her at ease was to get her mind focused elsewhere. And it wouldn’t be a bad thing to find something for him to focus on besides the feel of her pressed against his back, either.
“Tell me about your Nana Dovie. What’s she like—as a person, I mean?”
“Oh, my, that’s a tall order. Let’s see, if you were just to look at her while she’s resting, you wouldn’t think there was much to her. She’s a little woman, not quite five feet tall and skinny as a possum’s tail. But, like a banty rooster, she can be very forceful when she needs to be, and she can turn a grown man into a stammering schoolboy with just a look.”
He felt Ivy relax against him a bit more as she talked.
“But that ain’t to say she’s mean or vengeful or anything like that,” she explained. “It’s just that she’s not afraid to give you the benefit of her opinion. She’s God-fearing and generous, and stands up for what she feels is right, even if it means she has to stand alone. And she might not have much book learning, but she’s the wisest person I know.”
“She sounds like quite a woman.” And very like Ivy herself.
Ivy nodded in agreement. “I owe her everything I have and am. That’s the main reason I have to see this thing through, and as quickly as possible.”
“We’re working on that. How did you come to live with her?”
“She was a friend of my ma’s and also a midwife. She was there when I was born and when my ma died. When my pa died a few days later, she took me in.”
He hadn’t realized she’d been orphaned so young. No wonder Ivy was so loyal to the woman. “So the two of you run a farm on your own?”
“It’s not a big place. We have a nice-size garden and some chickens...and a goat.”
He sensed there was something she’d left unsaid. “No other livestock?”
“We used to have a milk cow, and a horse, too. But...” He felt her shudder as she paused. “But four months ago the barn burned down and we couldn’t get the animals out in time.”
Sympathy washed through him. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard to watch.”
“I’ve never felt so helpless and heartsick in my life. Both Buttercup and Homer were more than just farm animals—they were like pets. It’s the one and only time I’ve seen Nana Dovie cry.”
She shuddered again and he had to fight the urge to stop the horse and take her in his arms to console her. But he didn’t have that right. Instead he tried to turn her thoughts to other matters. “Did you rebuild your barn?”
“Not yet. That’s one reason I’m so anxious to see what this inheritance business is all about. We need a new barn and new animals. As it is, we had to borrow—”
She stopped talking abruptly, as if afraid she’d said too much. “Sorry, didn’t mean to rattle on about my troubles.”
“I don’t mind.” In fact, he wished she felt comfortable sharing more. Exactly how deep in debt had they gotten? “After you send your Nana Dovie that telegram, what’s your next move going to be?”
“I figure I’ll go see Mr. Mosley and show him my proof that Robert Feagan was my father. You said he has a ranch outside of town. Is it on our way?”
“I’m afraid not—it’s about a forty-five-minute ride to the other side of town. I’ll get a wagon from the livery and escort you there.”
She didn’t say anything. Had he overstepped by inviting himself along?
Instead of pressing her, he moved on. “Before we do any of that, though, I intend to have Dr. Pratt take a look at that injury of yours.”
She was quick to respond. “There’s no need. My head feels much better.”
No matter how much she protested, it wasn’t a point he intended to give in on. “That’s for the doctor to decide.”
“You sure can be mighty bossy.” There was a grumpy note to her voice that succeeded only in making him smile.
“I prefer to think of it as determined,” he said dryly.
She made a rather indelicate noise at that.
He chose to ignore it. “Do you have a place to stay while you’re in Turnabout?”
“I assume there’s an inn there.”
“There’s a hotel called The Rose Palace.”
“Sounds fancy.”
He shrugged and found he liked the way she reflexively tightened her hold. “I wouldn’t describe it as fancy, but it’s clean and comfortable.”
“Then that’s all I need. Besides, I won’t be staying long.”
Strange how talk of her leaving needled him. “Just ride in, claim your inheritance and head home again.”
“Of course.” She sounded happy about it. “The sooner I get back to Nana Dovie, the better.”
And why would she stay?
“Miss Jacobs is lucky to have someone like you to care for her.”
“I’m the lucky one.” Then she sighed. “Though I have to learn not to be such a worrier. As Nana Dovie reminds me, God has everything under His control. And He can make all things work for good, even if we don’t see it at the time.”
Mitch shifted. There was a time when he’d shared that belief. But where had the good been in Gretchen’s senseless death? Where had God’s mercy been when those bullets were flying?
“Is something wrong?”
Apparently his silence on the matter had caught her attention. He pasted a smile on his face in the hopes it would lighten his tone. “We’ve been on the road for about an hour. Time to stop and give the animals a rest.”
It wouldn’t hurt to put a bit of distance between them, as well.
* * *
Ivy realized he hadn’t answered her question. She noticed he often tried to sidestep when her questions got too personal.
She didn’t want to press too hard, though. Besides, she was more than happy to climb down and stretch her legs.
As soon as she had her feet on the ground, she moved to Jubal. “How are you doing, old friend? I promise when we get to town I’ll find you a nice place to rest with lots of comfy straw. And I’m going to get you the juiciest apples I can find.”
“Speaking of feed...”
She turned to see Mitch untying the food sack from the saddle.
“I think I’ll have a bite to eat,” he said. “How about you?”
They ate some berries and hardtack and shared water from his canteen to wash it down, as they stood in companionable silence.
When they were done, Mitch reattached the food sack, then quickly mounted up. As soon as he was settled, he reached down to her. With an ease that still surprised her, he lifted her into the saddle.
Once they were on their way, Ivy took stock of how far they’d traveled and where the sun was in the sky. “We’re not going to make it to town in time for me to see Mr. Mosley today, are we?”
“Probably not.”
“At least I’ll be able to send that telegram. The rest can wait until morning.”
He cleared his throat. “You will undoubtedly encounter Reggie and Adam, the couple who own the cabin, while you’re in town. When you do, I know your first tendency will be to thank them.” He turned enough to give her a stern look. “But it would be best if you refrained.”
“But—”
He faced forward again. “If we’re going to hide the fact that we were alone out there for two days, then we must keep silent about every aspect of our time there.”
Really, he could be like an old biddy hen with her chicks. Only she wasn’t a helpless little hatchling. “I don’t plan to lie to anyone.”
“Neither do I. It’s just best we don’t volunteer any information unnecessarily. Surely you don’t want to burden my friends with keeping our secret as well, do you?”
That gave her pause. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Perhaps she’d been selfish in her thinking. “Very well, we’ll do this your way.”
But the thought that this decision would come back to haunt them wouldn’t let her go. These were his friends so she would bow to his wishes. But it had been her experience that secrets had a way of coming to light.
And when they did, feelings would be hurt and trusts would be broken.
Chapter Seven
Ivy discovered yet another reason to be grateful Mitch was with her. Thanks to his familiarity with the area, she was able to don her skirt before they reached the first farmhouse. And when they did reach that first farmhouse, Mitch, who seemed acquainted with the family living there, convinced them to loan him a wagon.
So when they finally rolled into town, they did so with at least a smidgeon of the propriety Mitch so diligently strove for. Of course, with Seeley and Jubal tied behind and Rufus riding on the floor between them, a smidgeon was the best they could hope for.
As further proof of that, several townsfolk along the sidewalks were eyeing their little procession curiously. Not that she blamed them.
The makeup of their group was unconventional, and she was a stranger who’d arrived out of the blue with the town’s schoolteacher.
She tried to ignore the stares and instead focus on the town itself. Turnabout was larger than Nettles Gap. The street they were on had businesses lining both sides. She spotted a barbershop, a boot store, an apothecary and others whose signs she missed. Mitch finally stopped the wagon in front of a redbrick building with fancy double doors that were propped open. The gold-lettered sign above the entrance read The Rose Palace Hotel.
“Here we are,” he announced unnecessarily.
“Shouldn’t we go to the livery stable first and see Jubal settled in?”
“Better to get your things unloaded first so we don’t have to carry them through town.”
He dismounted, then helped her down. After hitching the horse to the rail, he retrieved her things and then glanced down at Rufus. “I don’t believe animals are allowed inside. Will he be okay out here?”
Ivy nodded and stooped so that she was practically nose to nose with Rufus. “I need you to stay out here and guard Jubal.” She ruffled his fur with both hands. “We won’t be gone long.”
The animal responded with a couple of yips and Ivy gave him a final pat before she stood and met Mitch’s gaze. “He’ll be fine,” she said confidently.
His raised brow indicated he was skeptical, but he nodded and escorted her inside.
Ivy looked around as they entered the lobby. There were faded red velvet chairs and large potted plants arranged near the stairway. The front desk was made of a rich-looking wood that had a high polish to it and there was an ornate brass bell on the desk.
Mitch might not think of this place as grand, but it was nicer than anyplace she’d ever been. Would her meager funds cover her stay?
He ushered her to the desk and greeted the bespectacled man standing there. “Hello, Edgar, I have a customer for you—Miss Ivy Feagan. Miss Feagan, this is Edgar Crandall.”
It appeared they were back to formal address, which she should have expected, given their earlier agreement to adhere to the proprieties once they were among his friends.
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