Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (17 page)

Ivy went back to work preparing a meal from scratch. He must have loved his wife deeply to refuse to marry another.

Surely she wasn't jealous of a dead woman?

Trying to move past her own reaction, Ivy realized she'd obviously touched a very raw nerve with Mitch, but it had been illuminating. He was even more stubbornly closed off than she'd imagined. And that was no way for a person to live.

She was more determined than ever to open his eyes. Now if she could just figure out how...

* * *

Mitch had seen the hurt look Ivy tried to mask before she turned away and felt a pang of regret for putting it there. But he knew he'd done the right thing. Now there would be no misunderstanding. If she had in fact formed any sort of affection for him, she was now aware that it could lead no further than friendship.

And if that thought left a sour feeling in his gut, well, it was just what he deserved.

She was quieter than usual as she worked at the stove. He wouldn't have been surprised if she refused to sit down to the meal with him, but to his relief that wasn't the case. But all through the meal he couldn't shake the feeling that she was studying him, but to what end he couldn't imagine.

He also found himself missing her cheerful chatter. Even the leading questions that normally started her talking failed to elicit more than direct responses.

When had her babble become so dear to him?

And what was he going to do when she returned to Nettles Gap for good?

Chapter Seventeen

I
vy rose early Wednesday morning. She wanted to get started on her laundry duties before the hottest part of the day.

Doing the laundry for herself and Mrs. Pierce wasn't much more work than doing it for herself and Nana Dovie. Mrs. Pierce's clothing was of a finer quality, but surprisingly worn. Perhaps she wanted to cling to her mourning clothes as long as possible.

As Ivy worked, her mind kept replaying yesterday's conversation with Mitch. She couldn't believe such a man could feel truly fulfilled leading a solitary life. Surely, in time, he'd find a woman who could bring him joy again.

But it obviously wouldn't be her. Still, she couldn't let that stop her from her self-appointed mission to help him. It was the right thing to do.

No matter how much it hurt.

When she'd hung the final load on the line, it was nearly noon.

It would be a while before the laundry was dry enough for her to take down. Perhaps she'd head over to Mitch's place. Just to see if he needed anything. And to check on Rufus, of course. She went to the back porch, then hesitated. She could see Mitch through the screen door. He was seated at the table, sketch pad spread out. Would he welcome her presence or was he savoring his solitude?

He looked up then, taking the decision from her hands.

She was gratified to see his smile of greeting. “Well, hello. Come on in.”

“Actually, I'm just taking a break while I wait for the wash to dry. I thought I'd see if the garden needed watering and maybe give Rufus a walk.”

Why did she suddenly feel so shy?

To cover her nervousness, she sat on the porch steps to greet an exuberant Rufus. A moment later, Mitch joined her outside, leaning against the nearby porch support. “I watered the garden earlier. And you should be enjoying your day off, not looking for additional chores to do.”

She leaned back to avoid more of Rufus's slobbery kisses. “I don't really consider gardening and taking a stroll with Rufus doing chores.”

“Have you eaten lunch yet?”

“I'll get something a little later.” She was certain she could find something edible on her walk with Rufus. And she was still hoarding a bit of the hardtack he'd given her a few days ago.

“I was about to head over to The Blue Bottle to speak with Chance. Why don't you join me? I'm sure Eve would be glad to see you.”

“That's really not necessary. I'll need to get back to check on the laundry in a little bit.” She took a deep breath. “Actually, I had another reason for coming.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I overstepped with my comments about Mrs. Swenson and about your wife.”

His expression closed off and he was silent for a long moment. Then he straightened. “I insist you accompany me for lunch. We need to discuss your duties.”

Ivy was confused. That was it? He wasn't going to acknowledge her apology? Then his words registered. Was he unhappy with her work? Or had her prying questions yesterday brought on his dissatisfaction? Or was it a combination of both? “Of course.”

As they strolled toward The Blue Bottle, Ivy kept waiting for Mitch to speak up on whatever he wanted to discuss with her, but instead he seemed more interested in learning how her morning had gone.

By the time they reached their destination she realized she'd done most of the talking.

Mitch held the door as she stepped inside. She was very careful not to brush against him as she passed, but even so his closeness was highly distracting. It was getting harder and harder to deny her feelings.

Eve was transferring chocolate treats from a tray to a display stand on the counter. Chance sat at a workbench across the room, painting a wooden train.

“Mitch, Ivy—welcome!” Eve set the tray down and wiped her hands in the folds of her apron. “Can I interest you in something sweet?”

Mitch nodded a greeting. “Everything smells so good. Why don't you fix us a cup of whatever tea you have today, along with some of those fancy sandwiches you make.”

Eve's brows lifted in surprise, but she recovered quickly. “Of course.”

Then she turned to Ivy. “Just have a seat and I'll bring that right out.”

Based on Eve's reaction to Mitch's request, Ivy gathered he didn't normally order tea and sandwiches. Was he doing all this for her benefit? And when was he going to let her know what he wanted to discuss with her?

As Ivy took her seat, she noticed Mitch and Chance deep in discussion. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but from the hand gestures Mitch was making, it appeared he was describing something he wanted Chance to build.

As she watched, she couldn't help but compare the two men. Chance was boyishly handsome with a ready smile and deep blue eyes. He always seemed relaxed and ready to enjoy whatever life tossed his way.

On the other hand, there was nothing boyish about Mitch. He was mature, impressive, solid. He exuded responsibility and dependability. There was something so admirable, so attractive in the quiet strength that was a natural part of him, and the control and grace with which he wielded that strength.

And while there might be some who preferred Chance's sunny good looks, she personally was partial to a man whose face reflected character and control, and whose manner suggested authority without being overbearing.

As soon as Eve stepped out of the kitchen, Mitch and Chance wrapped up their business.

Eve placed a cup of tea in front of Ivy, and a plate of daintily cut sandwiches on the table. “Today I have a peach tea. And two kinds of sandwiches—cheese and apple, and a chopped egg and vegetable mix.”

It all sounded quite exotic to Ivy.

“Perfect,” Mitch said as he joined them and took his seat.

Eve returned to the counter to finish unloading her tray of bonbons, leaving Mitch and Ivy to their tea and sandwiches.

Mitch picked up one of the tiny sandwiches, then moved the plate closer to her. “Help yourself.”

She obediently took one and nibbled on it, watching Mitch surreptitiously. He should have looked silly with that dainty cup and tiny sandwich in his huge hands. But he seemed completely at ease and entirely unselfconscious.

“Is something wrong with your sandwich?”

His question brought the heat to her cheeks as she realized she'd been staring rather than eating. “No, it's quite good.” She took a large bite to prove her point and followed it with a sip of the delicious tea.

She turned to Eve. “You'll have to teach me how you make this tea. I'd like to fix some for my Nana Dovie when I go back to Nettles Gap.”

Eve smiled. “Of course. Stop by whenever you have a few minutes and we'll brew a pot together.”

Still very aware of the man sitting at her elbow, Ivy kept her gaze on Eve. “Where's Leo?”

“Ira took Leo and Jack fishing this morning. They're not back yet so either the fish are biting well and they don't want to quit, or they're not biting and they don't want to give up.”

The talk of fishing put her in mind of the fishing she and Mitch had done back at the cabin, and she couldn't resist a quick look his way.

Sure enough, he was watching her with a smile.

“Ivy enjoys fishing, too,” he said. “Even digs her own worms and baits her own hook. Or so she tells me.”

“Is that so?” Chance said. “Maybe when Eve teaches her to make that tea, she can teach Eve to fish.”

Eve shook her head firmly. “I'll cook 'em, but I'll leave the catching to those who enjoy it.”

Chance gave an exaggerated sigh, then smiled. “I suppose I'm still getting the better end of that bargain.”

Eve blushed prettily under his smile, but gave a sassy toss of her head. “That you are.”

A pang stabbed Ivy as she watched the affectionate exchange between them. She was very happy for them, of course, but it was hard to realize she would likely never experience that same closeness and intimacy with anyone. No one in Nettles Gap would look twice at her, and moving away from there was not an option.

This time, she resisted the impulse to look at Mitch. Instead, she focused on her food.

When they finally took their leave, Ivy decided she'd waited long enough. “You said you wanted to talk about my duties?”

“So I did. Do you know how to sew?”

That wasn't at all what she'd expected. “Depends what you mean by sewing. I can mend and patch just about anything. And I can make up a new piece of clothing if I have a pattern to work from. But I'm not very good at fancy work.”

“How about curtains?”

Her spirits rose immediately. Was he ready to add some color to his place? “Of course. As long as you want something simple without ruffles and such.”

He gave her a dry smile. “Definitely no on the ruffles.”

“Are you planning to replace all the curtains or just some?”

“Neither. I want to add curtains to the kitchen window.”

Ah, well, that was a start. “Do you already have the fabric?”

“No, but I'm sure we can find something at the mercantile.”

He'd said
we.
If he really was willing to let her help select it, maybe she could talk him into something colorful. “I did notice they have a nice selection.” She was already imagining a print of some sort with a bright blue as the prominent color.

“Shall we go take a look?” he asked.

“I probably should be getting back—”

“It won't take long, and there's no time like the present.”

She was surprised by his insistence. “All right, I suppose the laundry
could
probably use a few extra minutes to dry.”

When they arrived at the mercantile, Mitch placed a hand lightly at the small of her back and guided her down one of the aisles. Ivy was certain it was a reflexive gesture, totally impersonal and meant to be polite rather than affectionate.

But her reaction to it was anything but impersonal.

The table where the bolts of fabric were stacked was at the far end of the store and she remained acutely aware of the protective warmth of his touch the entire way. The walk seemed to take forever and end too quickly at the same time.

As soon as they reached the fabric table, Mitch stepped away from her and reached for a bolt near the top of the stack. “What do you think of this one?”

She tried to focus on the fabric. It was a tan-and-brown plaid with a thin maroon stripe providing the only hint of color.

She stifled a grimace. There was nothing inherently wrong with it, but she'd had something a little brighter in mind. “Perhaps something with a little more color.”

To her relief, he didn't seem insulted. “Which one would you recommend?” Then he gave her a stern look. “No flowers.”

She laughed, and the smile he gave her warmed her right down to her toes.

However was she going to make it through the rest of her time in Turnabout with her heart unscathed?

* * *

Mitch watched as Ivy studied the bolts of fabric. He hadn't been able to resist the urge to touch her, even if it was just to put a protective hand at her back.

He'd have to watch that in the future. Ivy was the last person he wanted to mislead.

She studied the bolts intently, as if it were a decision of utmost importance. He decided he liked the way her nose crinkled and her lips quirked up on one side when she was mentally working through a problem.

She fingered a yellow print covered with white flowers and then another that had white-and-yellow polka dots on a green background.

To his relief, she dismissed both of those and continued looking. With a triumphant grin she pulled out a bolt of blue gingham. Grabbing a corner of the fabric, she turned to him with a smile. “How's this?”

He pretended to study it critically. “It's not neutral, but I think I can live with it.”

Mitch had turned to signal Doug Blakely, the owner of the mercantile, that they needed help when another customer walked in. To his chagrin, it was Hilda Swenson and her boys.

The widow caught sight of him at the same time, and her expression brightened. She immediately headed his way. “Mr. Parker, how nice to see you. Are you doing your shopping, too?”

When she spied Ivy, her expression slipped for just a moment, but she recovered quickly. “Miss Feagan. I thought you were off on Wednesdays.”

Now, how had she learned Ivy's schedule?

“I am. I'm just helping Mr. Parker pick out some fabric for kitchen curtains.”

“How very nice.” The widow glanced at the fabric Ivy had picked out. “Oh, my dear, surely you're not thinking of going with that gingham.”

Mitch started to protest, but Ivy spoke up first.

“I know it's not the most colorful of prints, but I'm trying to keep in mind that this is for a bachelor's home.”

So she'd picked up on his more conservative tastes, had she?

Mrs. Swenson nodded. “Of course. But just because men don't appreciate florals doesn't mean we must choose something dull.” She stepped past Ivy and dug through the bolts stacked on the table. She finally pulled out one from the bottom of the pile. It had alternating stripes of red and blue separated by narrower strips of white.

“This one is much brighter and still has a masculine look to it, don't you agree?”

Ivy nodded. “You're right, this is a much better choice. I don't know how I missed it.”

The woman preened. “I'm just more familiar with the offerings here.” She glanced Mitch's way. “I confess I'm always on the lookout for ways to make my home cozier and more welcoming. Mr. Blakely lets me know when he has something that might interest me.”

Mitch cleared his throat. “I think the fabric Miss Feagan selected is fine.”

Ivy, however, disagreed. “But this one Mrs. Swenson found will work out much better than the gingham.”

Before Mitch could respond, Mrs. Swenson spoke up again. “If your duties keep you too busy to sew, I'll be happy to make these curtains for Mr. Parker. Mr. Swenson used to say I was quite the seamstress. He took pride in showing off my domestic talents.” She lifted her chin proudly. “And of course I make most of the clothes for myself and the boys.” She fanned out one side of her skirt, inviting them to admire it.