Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (6 page)

Mitch silently berated himself. The temptation to kiss her had caught him unawares, surprising him with its swift intensity. But that was no excuse. He should have had tighter control of himself. What would have happened if Rufus hadn't interrupted them?

He'd assured her he was an honorable man, that she had nothing to fear from him. Did she still believe it?

Did
he?

His earlier thoughts about enjoying her company had come back to haunt him. For the first time since Gretchen's death he'd let his guard down enough to take pleasure in a woman's company. And look what had happened.

What was it about Ivy that she could get under his skin so easily?

Then he focused on her again.

Her cheeks were a becoming shade of pink, her expression reflected confusion. He felt a cad for having done that to her.

She turned to greet her dog, giving them both an opportunity to gather their composure.

He knew offering an apology would only make matters worse. His best course of action was to get things back on an easy, comfortable footing.

He cleared his throat. “What do you say we try out those cane poles? I've a hankering for some fried fish for lunch.”

“That sounds like fun.” She stood. “I seem to recall I'm supposed to show you how it's done.”

He was relieved to see she'd already recovered some of her spirit. “Is that a challenge?”

“Yes, sir, I do believe it is.”

* * *

Ivy arranged the wet laundry on the porch railings. As soon as they'd made it back to the cabin, Mitch had disappeared around back to fetch the poles.

She wasn't sure what had happened back there, but she
was
fairly certain it had been her fault. And she'd hate to think she'd done anything to make him think less of her. What on earth had she been thinking, offering to
feed
him those berries?

Mitch reappeared carrying a pair of cane poles and leading his horse.

She nodded toward Seeley. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Since we're headed to the lake, I thought I'd refill the water barrel.”

She frowned. “You use your horse for that?”

“Yep.”

Puzzled, she watched as he maneuvered Seeley so the animal was backed up to the barrel. She moved closer and discovered the barrel sat on a low wooden platform outfitted with wheels. “How clever.”

“Reggie's husband built it. It has a harness so you can hitch a horse for easy transport.”

She nodded appreciatively. “That would definitely save lots of time and effort hauling buckets of water.”

“That's the idea.” Mitch started fitting his horse with the special harness. “I figure, once I fill it, Seeley can graze until we're done fishing.”

He had the horse hitched in short order and then they retraced their steps to the lake.

“If I help you fill the barrel,” she offered, “it'll get done in half the time.”

“No need—I've got the job in hand and it won't take long.”

She knew he was mollycoddling her again, but before she could protest he picked up the small spade he'd brought along.

“I'll dig some worms for you so you can start fishing while I fill the barrel.”

“No need,” she said, mimicking him, “I've got
that
job well in hand.”

That nudged his brow up a notch. “You plan to collect your own worms?”

“Of course.” It wasn't as if she'd had anyone around to do it for her back home.

“And bait your own hooks?”

He seemed even more surprised at that. She supposed it wasn't the most ladylike of tasks. But she refused to apologize for it. “It's like threading a needle.”

That teased a grin from him. “I suppose that's one way of looking at it.”

She watched surreptitiously as he scooped water with the pail and dumped it into the barrel. His very broad, solid back was to her. She didn't figure there was much as could stand against a man with a back like that. Especially one with as good a heart as Mitch seemed to have.

That combination of strength and heart was mighty attractive in a man. A woman would be lucky to have a man like Mitch looking out for her.

For a heartbeat she recalled that moment on the trail, how the light in his eyes had deepened as he'd stared at her and everything else had seemed to fall away. Then she gave her head a shake and quickly turned to bait her hook.

As she dropped her line in the water, she noticed a slight tremble in her hands.

* * *

As they cleaned their catch at the water's edge, Ivy argued that her five fish to his three clearly indicated she was the better fisherman. He insisted it was more about the quality of the catch and his three easily outweighed her five.

Ivy enjoyed their spirited discussion—it was the kind comfortable friends would have. And she hadn't had a friend like that in a long time, thanks to the outcast status Lester Stokes had foisted on her.

When they arrived back at the cabin, Ivy left Mitch to tend to Seeley while she went inside with the fish. Poking around in the kitchen, she found cornmeal, salt and a small crock with bacon grease. She also found a jar of pickled tomatoes—just the thing to go with pan-fried fish.

By the time she had all the fixings for their meal gathered up, Mitch had returned. “Thanks again for taking care of the animals,” she said.

He merely nodded. For a schoolteacher he certainly wasn't talkative. Was he this way in his classroom, too?

Then he waved toward the stove. “I can do the cooking,” he said. “You've had an active morning for someone still recuperating.” His serious expression lightened as he gave a lopsided smile. “I'm not much of a cook, but I
do
know how to fry fish.”

She shook her head. “It's
your
turn to sample
my
cooking.”

He didn't argue further, but she felt him watching while she worked. As she added cornmeal and seasoning to the fish, she asked, “You said you're a schoolteacher—is drawing one of the things you teach your students?”

“No.”

It was like squeezing tears from a rock to get him to elaborate on anything. “Why? I reckon there's some who'd enjoy those lessons more than reading and 'rithmetic.”

“But reading and arithmetic, along with geography, history and literature, are the more important things for them to learn.”

“You know all those subjects?” she asked.

“I know
something
about all of them. What I don't know I find in the books I teach from.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “So you draw, fish, rescue injured travelers and have a lot of book learning. That's quite a list of talents.”

He gave that crooked smile again. “You make it sound more impressive than it is. I have faults enough to offset those talents, believe me.”

She turned the fish in the skillet. Was he just being modest or did he think so little of himself? “Have you always lived in Turnabout?”

“No, I moved there about two years ago.”

“Where did you live before that?”

“Pennsylvania, near Philadelphia.” His tone implied the topic was off-limits.

Which, naturally, piqued her curiosity. She decided to see if coming at it sideways would make him more forthcoming.

“Philadelphia—that's over on the East Coast, isn't it? Seems like that's a far piece from here.”

Some of the tension she'd heard in his voice eased. “About fourteen hundred miles.”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “Oh, my stars, you traveled all that way? Whatever for?” She couldn't even imagine such a distance, or why someone would cross it to come here.

But his expression had closed off again. “I was ready for a change, and moving all the way to Texas seemed like a good start.”

It appeared she'd gotten too close to whatever it was he didn't want to talk about. Time to drop the subject—she owed him that courtesy at least. Did it have something to do with his deceased wife? Had grief put that bleak shadow in his expression? Or was it something more? She was human enough to be curious.

Very
curious.

* * *

Mitch didn't want to think about his life back in Philadelphia, much less discuss it. He'd rather forget that period of his life.

As if he ever could.

“How are those fish coming along?” he asked.

“Just about done.”

He crossed the room to get the dishes and set a couple of plates in easy reach for her. Then he filled a pair of glasses from the jug of water he'd brought inside. In short order they were seated and ready to dig into their meal. “This is quite good,” he said after taking his first bite.

Her cheeks pinkened in pleasure. “Glad you like it. Nana Dovie used to do most of the cooking at our place. Lately, though, she's been insisting I do more of it.”

He saw the slight furrow of her brow. “And that worries you?”

“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

“W
hat'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.