“Still, the decision is mine so you’ll just have to accept it.”
She glared a moment longer, then lifted her hands in surrender. “Have it your way.”
As she turned to her room, he called out, “Take Rufus with you.”
Just before she closed her door, Mitch thought he heard her mutter something that contained the phrase “more stubborn than Jubal.”
He grinned as he wrestled the unwieldy mattress out the front door. She certainly wasn’t bashful about speaking her mind. But at least she was smart enough to know when arguments were useless.
His smile faded as he stretched out on the mattress and stared out at the stars. If he was being entirely honest with himself, despite his desire for solitude, he hadn’t really minded her presence here today. Which was troubling.
Because he had to hold himself apart. He couldn’t risk hurting someone else the way he’d hurt Gretchen.
Chapter Five
As Ivy settled into bed, she marveled at how the day had turned out to be so different from what she’d imagined when she woke this morning. She’d been worried about Jubal’s hoof and whether or not she’d be able to stretch her provisions if they were delayed much longer. And now, here she was, a roof over her head and a warm, dry bed to sleep in, plenty of provisions to carry her through and a proper place to let Jubal rest and heal.
And befriending Mr. Parker was an unexpected blessing for sure. Even though he was something of a stiff-necked gent at times, his concern for both her physical well-being and her reputation was touching. She no longer found his size intimidating—rather it was comforting to know that so much strength was tempered by restraint and kindness.
And as much as she considered herself independent, knowing there would be someone in Turnabout she could turn to if the need arose was also very comforting.
Lord, despite these unexpected delays, You’ve sure been kind to me. Of all the folks who could have happened across me out here, You sent the most honorable man I’ve ever met. Thank You for that grace.
Amen.
* * *
By the time Ivy rose the next morning she could hear Mr. Parker moving around in the kitchen. The smell of coffee brewing had her rushing through her morning ablutions to join him.
When she opened the door, he looked up with a smile. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”
“Smells mighty good.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing fancy—just hardtack biscuits and strawberry preserves. But I softened the biscuits in the skillet with a little bacon grease.”
“Apologies not necessary—it sounds like just the thing.”
He gave her a searching look. “How are you feeling today?”
“Much more myself, thanks.” She refused to let him mollycoddle her today. “The smell of coffee was sure nice to wake up to.”
“It’s ready if you want to help yourself. The cups are on that shelf next to the window.”
She crossed the room and reached for the cups. “Want me to pour you some, too?”
He nodded as he set the dish of warm biscuits on the table. “Thank you.”
Ivy carefully carried the nearly full cups to the table and took her seat. He seemed cheerful and rested today—maybe sleeping on the porch hadn’t bothered him as much as she’d feared. “I hope the mosquitoes didn’t pester you too much last night.”
“I managed to sleep through it.”
His dry tone made her wonder if he was downplaying the amount of aggravation he’d experienced.
After they said the blessing, she slathered some jelly on her biscuit. “I should be up to that four-hour ride to Turnabout today.”
He gave no outward reaction, but she could tell he had reservations. Not surprising—did the man ever do anything spontaneously? But she would’ve thought he’d be glad to get rid of her by now.
Mr. Parker took a sip of coffee before responding. “I checked on Jubal when I got the wood for the stove this morning. He needs at least one more day’s rest before he undertakes that long trip.”
She tried to rein in her disappointment. “Of course I don’t want to push him if he’s not ready. I’ll take a look at him after breakfast and decide.”
His left brow rose. “Does this matter in Turnabout require your immediate attention?”
She waved dismissively. “That’s not it. This inheritance thing has waited more than twenty years so another day or two won’t make much difference.” She rubbed her cheek. “But Nana Dovie’s going to worry if she doesn’t hear from me soon. I promised to send her a telegram when I got to Turnabout so she’d know I’d arrived safely.”
He nodded. “I see.” Then he studied her a moment longer. “This Nana Dovie means a great deal to you. I can hear it in your voice when you speak of her.”
Ivy nodded. “She’s the only family I have,” she said simply.
“And how will she react to not having heard from you yet?”
“Nana Dovie’s not one to panic easily,” she said. “We discussed this trip before I left, and much as I’d hoped to make the trip in two days, we both knew it might take longer. But if she doesn’t hear from me by tomorrow, she’ll fear the worst.” Ivy hated the idea of putting the only mother she’d ever known through such needless worry.
“Don’t worry—we’ll send word as soon as we’re able.”
Ivy found it interesting that he’d said “we” and not “you.”
“There’s something else. Nana Dovie doesn’t leave the farm, ever, so she’ll have to wait until the reverend pays a visit to send an inquiry.”
She saw the flicker of speculation in his eyes at her statement, but he didn’t press. She was coming to appreciate his tact.
He stood and carried his dishes to the counter. “Then it’s best we plan to leave first thing in the morning.”
It wasn’t ideal, but perhaps Nana Dovie wouldn’t start imagining the worst before then. She followed him to the counter with her own dishes. “So you think Jubal will be ready for the trip by then?”
“We’ll get to town tomorrow, one way or the other.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Why don’t we wait and see what tomorrow brings?”
Was he being deliberately evasive?
Before she could ask for an explanation, he changed the subject. “Now, Miss Feagan, do you prefer to wash or dry?”
She grabbed a dishrag. “Wash.” She dunked a plate in the basin, which already contained fresh water. “And don’t you think, all things considered, there’s no need for you to continue to refer to me as Miss Feagan? The name’s Ivy.”
Predictably, he raised a brow. “All things considered, I think it best we stick to the formalities.”
She refused to back down. “Hogwash. You’ve bandaged me, bodily lifted me onto your horse, removed my shoes and stockings, practically tucked me in—you even did my laundry, for goodness’ sake. Standing on ceremony at this point is just silly.”
Mitch stiffened and she hid a grin. He probably didn’t get called silly very often.
He accepted the clean plate and rubbed it with extra vigor. “Miss Feagan, we’ll have enough speculation to deal