Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (13 page)

Reggie gave Mitch an assessing look. “Well, now, wasn't that nice of Mr. Parker?”

“It was much more than nice—it was providential. I've been thanking the Good Lord for putting him in my path ever since we met.” Mitch gave her a stern look, and Ivy decided to relent and stop teasing him. “Which brings me to why we've intruded on your afternoon.”

“I assure you it's no intrusion. You're welcome to drop by anytime—with or without Mitch.” Reggie started tugging at her gardening gloves. “Is there something I can do to help you get settled in?”

“Maybe. It turns out Mr. Parker doesn't have a garden, which I view as a tragedy. So I've offered to put one in while I'm here. And I'm looking for some cuttings that will work for a late planting.”

“Say no more. I can fix you right up.” Reggie linked arms with her. “Come on out to my garden—I'm sure we can find what you need.” She sent Mitch an airy wave. “You'll find Adam in the parlor.”

* * *

Mitch was still mulling over what Ivy had said as he went to find Adam. She considered their meeting providential? He'd have thought she would've seen it as the disaster that had kept her from arriving in time to talk to Drum.

“I thought I heard your voice,” Adam said, finding him standing in the hallway, lost in thought.

Hiding his embarrassment at having been caught woolgathering, Mitch pulled his thoughts back to the present. He quickly explained why he was there and the two men moved to the back porch.

“So putting in a garden was Miss Feagan's idea?” Adam kept his eyes focused on the two women as they sat.

“It certainly wasn't mine,” Mitch said dryly. “Apparently Ivy's not only a skilled gardener, but she loves it, as well.” He suppressed a smile. “And because I don't share her belief that every household with a yard should also contain a garden, she thinks me little better than a heathen.”

Adam was grinning now. “And she feels it's her duty to convert you?”

Mitch nodded. “With a fervent, missionary zeal.” Then he sobered. “So what about Carter? He seemed dead set on fighting her claim. Is there anything she should be worried about?”

Reggie apparently said something amusing because Ivy let out a boisterous laugh, which he found enjoyably distracting. It appeared the two women were becoming fast friends.

Adam rubbed his jaw. “As long as her proof of identity is solid, there's really not anything Carter can do to negate her claim.”

Mitch nodded. But he still had a nagging worry that they shouldn't rest easy just yet. Even if Ivy's case was strong, Carter could still make things very unpleasant for her. He intended to be at her side to support her, come what may.

Jack stepped out onto the porch and asked Adam to help him with a tangled string on his yo-yo. Looking at them with their heads bent over the task, Mitch felt a sharp pang of jealousy.

He turned back toward the garden, but this time he didn't see Ivy and Reggie there. He saw Gretchen, smiling as she went about her work, quietly joyful with the knowledge of the new life she carried inside her. A new life that never had a chance to flourish. It took him a long moment to pull himself together, but when Jack wanted to show him a trick with the now untangled yo-yo, he was able to respond with appropriate interest.

Twenty minutes later, Ivy and Reggie strolled back to the porch, still chattering away. Mitch smiled—chattering away seemed to be Ivy's natural state.

When the women drew close, Mitch stood. “Did you two work it all out?”

Ivy nodded. “Reggie has a marvelous garden and she's generously sharing it with us.”

Mitch wasn't quite certain how he felt about that familiar use of “us.” Especially with those thoughts of Gretchen and his unborn child still lingering in his mind.

“Fiddlesticks,” Reggie said. “The garden needed thinning anyway and I was happy to do it. Mitch, you're lucky to have Ivy putting in your garden for you. She really understands plants—gave me a few tips for how to improve my own harvest.”

Ivy's cheeks turned pink, and she smiled happily. “You have a fine garden—I just pointed out one or two things that have worked for me.” Then she tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. “When will it be most convenient for me to come by and collect the cuttings?”

“Since tomorrow is Sunday,” Reggie answered, “how does Monday morning sound?”

“Perfect.” Ivy nodded in satisfaction. “I can stop by here on my way to Mi— Mr. Parker's place Monday morning.”

Mitch hoped his involuntary wince went unnoticed. Had anyone else caught her stumble over his name?

“Nonsense.” Reggie waved away her offer. “Mrs. Peavy and I can harvest the cuttings and shoots Monday morning and load them up in Jack's wagon. Then Jack and Ira can pull the wagon over to Mitch's place.” She turned to her son. “Can't you, Jack?”

“Yes, ma'am. My wagon can hold a whole lot.”

“Why, thank you, Jack,” Ivy said. “I'd be mighty beholden to you.”

Then Reggie raised a finger. “That reminds me. You must join our gathering for lunch tomorrow.”

Ivy's brow wrinkled. “Gathering?”

Reggie waved the question away. “Mitch can explain, but I won't accept no for an answer.” She turned to Mitch. “Don't forget, it's now June so we'll be meeting at Eve and Chance's place.”

“I remember.”

“Of course you do—you're always so on top of things.” She climbed the porch steps. “If you'll excuse me, I need to check on Patricia.”

Mitch and Ivy took their leave. They were barely back on the sidewalk when Ivy turned to Mitch. “What is this mysterious gathering that Reggie insisted I should attend?”

“Remember I told you I traveled here from Philadelphia with three other men, and that it was Reggie's grandfather who introduced us to each other before we set out?”

She nodded.

Mitch chose his next words carefully, not wanting to reveal any secrets that weren't his to tell—Reggie's grandfather had sent them to Turnabout with a very specific purpose in mind, one his granddaughter had been furious to learn about.

“When we arrived here, Reggie opened her home to us and we got in the habit of taking our meals together.” He suppressed a grin as he remembered what a little tyrant Reggie had been as she insisted they do so to put a good face on a difficult situation.

“Once we all settled into our new lives here,” he continued, “it gradually became a once-a-week event—Sunday lunch. It's a tradition that's survived to this day—as members of the group marry and have children, or other relatives come to town, the circle has expanded, but that hasn't stopped us.”

“What a lovely tradition. But if it's for the four of you and your families, perhaps I shouldn't—”

He didn't let her finish. “You heard Reggie. She would skin me alive if I showed up without you. And don't worry, the size of the group expands and contracts over time and it seems like every few weeks we seat a different number. Last Sunday we had ten adults, if you count Everett's sister, Abigail, and four children. So one more will scarcely be noticed.”

“And so this Eve, who has the unlucky chore of cooking for your large gathering, is she the wife of the fourth member of your group?”

“That's right—Chance Dawson. Eve runs that candy store you eyed when you first got to town. So you'll finally get to sample her wares.”

“She must be quite a cook.”

“Reggie, Daisy and Eve take turns hosting, swapping up every month. This month is Eve's turn. But they all contribute something to the meal.”

“Don't you ever take a turn to host?”

“As a bachelor, I'm exempt. Besides, my dining room isn't big enough.” He was tempted to explain further, but held his tongue.

They arrived at Mrs. Pierce's, and Mitch opened the front gate. She stepped forward, but rather than following, he gave her a short bow. “It's best I leave you here.”

She cast a quick glance toward the house and nodded. “Mrs. Pierce's rules. Thank you again for all you've done to help me—and not just today.”

She looked suddenly small and alone, and he felt as if he were abandoning her. “You're quite welcome. I'll come by in the morning to escort you to church.”

She tilted her head in question. “Shouldn't I come by to fix your breakfast?”

“Sunday is your day off,” he said firmly. “And I'm perfectly capable of preparing my own meals—just as I've done every day for the past two years.”

She grinned. “A man of simple tastes—I remember. Well, then.” She paused, as if drawing the moment out. “I suppose I'll see you in the morning.”

Mitch waited until she'd stepped inside the house, then turned and started back toward home. It was getting on toward dusk and Tim would be out lighting the streetlamps in another few minutes.

It had been a very interesting day—several days, he should say. There'd been none of the peaceful solitude he'd planned to enjoy this week. And it looked like that would hold true for the next three weeks, as well.

But strangely, he didn't feel the least bit cheated.

It was undoubtedly the stimulation of having something new and unexpected to focus on.

And Ivy was definitely unexpected.

She was chatty, stubborn and indifferent when it came to propriety. She was also warm, generous and altogether intriguing at the same time. He refused to feel guilty for thinking so—after all, he was merely acknowledging the facts.

When Mitch reached his front gate, Rufus ran to greet him. The dog, no respecter of propriety either, scampered enthusiastically around him, all but tripping him up, until he gave in and stooped down to scratch the animal's neck. “Ivy spoils you. Don't expect to get the same level of attention from me.” When Mitch stood, the dog raced off, then returned carrying a stick in his mouth. With a reluctant smile, Mitch accepted the offering and gave the stick a toss that sailed it across the yard.

Rufus quickly returned it to him and they repeated the game three more times until Rufus spied a squirrel and gave chase.

As Mitch entered his house, he thought again about just how much his life had been disrupted. Even when Ivy wasn't here, her dog made sure his time was no longer wholly his own.

What surprised him, though, was how little it bothered him.

* * *

Not wanting to impose on Mrs. Pierce, Ivy had gone to her room almost immediately.

Opening her window to let in some air, she spotted Mrs. Pierce in her very lush vegetable garden, watering the rows.

Her heart went out to the woman. Though she was very serene and elegant on the surface, Ivy sensed a loneliness in her.

Would she welcome an overture of friendship from her tenant?

She began unpacking her few possessions and her thoughts naturally turned to Mitch. She found it strange that he had never taken on his share of the Sunday hosting duties. His comment about the size of his dining room seemed merely an excuse. But if he didn't want to host his friends, she supposed it was none of her business.

But why did he hold himself so aloof from everyone?

His friends were nice people.
Very
nice people. And the fact that they had accepted her so quickly simply because she was his friend spoke volumes for the regard they held him in.

That feeling of being accepted was a gift—one she no longer took for granted.

Lord Jesus, I'm starting to believe You had more blessings in store for me than I ever imagined when You sent Mitch to me out in them woods. I know this won't last forever, but I promise to cherish every minute of it. And when it's time for me to return to Nettles Gap, I will lean on You to give me the strength not to mourn its loss.

But while she was here, she aimed to do what she could to make Mitch see how blessed he was.

Whether he welcomed her attempts or not.

Chapter Thirteen

T
he next morning, Mitch stopped by Mrs. Pierce's home to escort Ivy to church. The widow walked with them at Ivy's invitation, but when Ivy and Mitch paused to speak to Adam and Reggie, she took her leave and entered the church building alone.

After the greetings were exchanged, Reggie shifted Patricia to her other hip. “Ivy, did Mitch explain about our gathering?”

“He did, and I feel honored to be included, so long as you're certain the hostess is okay with an extra guest.”

“Oh, don't worry about that—Eve won't mind.” Then she glanced past Ivy. “Oh, look, there they are now.”

Reggie waved the new arrivals over and Ivy was quickly introduced to Eve and Chance and their boy, Leo.

Eve Dawson was a petite woman with an infectious smile. “So you're the young lady who rode into town with Mitch and set everyone's tongues to wagging.”

“Guilty. And you're the lady who runs the sweet shop.”

Eve smiled. “Guilty. You'll have to stop by to sample some of my candies.”

Mitch touched Ivy's elbow, as if to lend her added support. “Miss Feagan will be joining us for lunch today.”

“Wonderful! It'll give us a chance to get better acquainted.” Eve gave Ivy a grin. “Not only that, but it means I won't be the newest arrival at the table any longer.”

“You lost that standing six months ago when Daisy's Wyatt was born,” Eve's husband said. Chance Dawson was a boyishly handsome man with a charming smile and a teasing tilt to his lips. But it was obvious he only had eyes for his wife.

Eve tapped his arm with a mock pout. “
Must
you be so literal?”

Ivy was enjoying the banter and easy camaraderie the group shared, but her smile faltered when she spotted Carter Mosley from the corner of her eye. The man visibly stiffened when he saw her. Averting his eyes, he walked into the church building without a backward glance.

She had grown used to such snubs at home, but somehow, here, it stung much more.

The church bells pealed and the folks still milling about moved toward the entrance.

Once inside, Ivy spotted Mrs. Pierce sitting by herself. Impulsively, she headed directly for that pew and took the seat next to the widow, and Mitch slid in next to her.

Mrs. Pierce turned, and surprise flashed in her eyes. Then her demeanor closed off again and she gave Ivy a cool nod before facing forward again.

When the service started, Ivy discovered Reverend Harper was quite different from Reverend Tomlin—he was a bit older and lacked some of Reverend Tomlin's stern seriousness. But he seemed equally sincere and concerned for his flock, and she found herself enjoying the service a great deal.

After the service, Mitch introduced her to Reverend Harper as they exited. The man welcomed her with a warm smile and they chatted for a moment about Ivy's plans and how she was enjoying her stay.

Before Ivy could turn back to Mitch, Mrs. Swenson swooped in on him, her three children following like a covey of quail.

“Mr. Parker, how nice to see you on this fine Sunday morning.”

Mitch touched the brim of his hat. “Mrs. Swenson.”

“Isn't it an absolutely gorgeous day?”

“It is.” Mitch glanced back at Ivy, as if wanting her to step forward so they could leave, but Mrs. Swenson wasn't giving way.

“I baked an apple pie this morning,” the woman continued. “I wondered if you'd like to join me and my sons for lunch.”

“Thank you, but I already have plans.” He moved back a step and firmly tucked Ivy's hand on his arm. It was all she could do not to preen.

The imposing woman eyed Ivy frostily. “Miss Feagan, how nice to see you again.”

Ivy nodded with a smile. “Mrs. Swenson, what a lovely hat.”

The woman eyed the familiar way Mitch held Ivy's arm as she spoke. “Why, thank you, I made it myself. How long did you say you were going to be in town?”

“About three weeks.”

Mitch sketched a short bow. “If you'll excuse us, we should be on our way.”

Mrs. Swenson dipped her head regally. “Of course. Perhaps you can join us some other time.” She turned toward her children. “Come along, boys.” Did Mitch have any idea how special he'd made her feel when he took her arm?

More importantly, what would he think if he
did
know?

* * *

Mitch breathed a sigh of relief as the woman walked away. He turned to find Ivy studying him with a speculative gleam in her eye. Ignoring her unspoken question, he asked, “Ready to head to Eve and Chance's place?”

“I need to make a quick stop at Mrs. Pierce's.”

“Forget something?”

“I just need to fetch my contribution to the gathering.”

“Contribution? Did you cook something?”

“No. I didn't have the proper ingredients to make anything. But I didn't want to go empty-handed, so I gave Mrs. Pierce a few coins this morning for the privilege of plundering her flower garden. I thought flowers might at least brighten the table.”

“That's very thoughtful of you.” And it was also incredibly generous. He knew she didn't have many coins to spare.

When they reached the Pierce home, the widow was nowhere in sight. Ivy picked up garden shears, gloves and a large basket that had been left at the ready on the front porch. She held the basket out to Mitch. “Mrs. Pierce said I could borrow this to carry the flowers in. Do you mind?”

He accepted the large wicker receptacle and then watched her pull on the gloves while she studied the bounty of flowers with a judicious eye. “I promised I'd only thin the blooms and not strip any one section,” she said without taking her gaze from the garden.

With a decisive nod, Ivy stepped forward and went about harvesting select blossoms and greenery. Mitch acted as her assistant, placing the cuttings carefully into the basket. It amused him to listen to her hold a running conversation, talking both to herself and to the flowers. Did she even realize she was doing it?

When she finally stepped back, the basket was full, yet the garden looked nearly as colorful as ever.

“There, I think that will do.” She set the shears and gloves back on the porch, then smiled at him as she held out her hand. “I can take that now if you like.”

But Mitch shook his head. “I've got it. Are you ready?”

With a nod, she preceded him through the gate.

As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Mitch spotted the Barr household a couple of blocks ahead of them. Both Adam and Ira carried large hampers, undoubtedly food that Reggie and Mrs. Peavy had prepared for their gathering.

“I do hope Eve has something we can put these in,” Ivy said. “I didn't feel right asking Mrs. Pierce to borrow her vases.”

Mitch detected a hint of nervousness in Ivy's tone. Was she worried about fitting in? He had no doubt she'd be welcomed, but he planned to do his part to make her feel comfortable.

“I'm certain Eve will have something suitable,” he said.

Truth be told, he felt a little nervous himself. Hopefully his friends wouldn't read more into his escorting Ivy into their gathering than was there. After all, it was Reggie who had issued the invitation to Ivy. He was merely providing escort.

But he had a feeling the others wouldn't see it in quite that light.

* * *

Ivy tried to calm her nerves as they strolled down the street. She saw Reggie and the rest of the Barr household up ahead but had no desire to hail them. She was perfectly content to stroll along with just Mitch for company. She glanced at him from under her lashes and couldn't help but smile. He should have looked ridiculous, this giant of a man carrying her basket of riotously arranged flowers. But instead he looked quite charming.

He shifted the basket to his other hand just then and took her elbow as they reached a street crossing.

She knew those little gestures were no more than what he'd afford any woman lucky enough to be in his company, but it still made her feel special in a way she never had before.

When they arrived at Eve and Chance's place, Ivy braced herself, hoping she wouldn't do anything to make Mitch sorry he'd introduced her to his friends.

The main doors were open wide, with the entrance barred by two swinging half doors, similar to what she'd seen on the saloon in Nettles Gap. But this was no saloon—far from it—and she liked the openness of it.

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 self-consciously. “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.”