Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (7 page)

Chapter Seven

I
vy 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.

The clerk gave her a friendly smile. “Welcome to The Rose Palace Hotel, miss. Always glad to have fresh faces around here.”

Ivy doubted her face was very fresh right now, but she returned his smile. “Thank you. This seems like a mighty fine establishment.”

The man's smile broadened at her compliment. “We take a lot of pride in this place.” He opened a ledger. “Now, let's see if we can get you fixed up. How many nights will you be staying?”

Ivy hesitated. “I'm not sure.”

But the man didn't so much as blink. “We'll just leave that open-ended for now.” He pointed to a blank line in the ledger. “If you'll just sign here.”

She did as he asked, and by the time she'd finished the man was holding out a key. “I've put you in room three. Turn right at the top of the stairs and it'll be the second door.”

Ivy reached for her bag, but Mitch was ahead of her.

“Allow me.” He waved her to the stairs and she had no choice but to go along unless she wanted to make a scene. She was very aware of his presence behind her as she climbed. When they reached the room she'd been assigned, he finally handed over her bag. “Take whatever time you need. I'll wait downstairs. The livery is on the way to the train station, where the telegraph office is, so we can take care of both of those things when you're ready.”

With a nod and a promise not to take long, Ivy opened the door. The room was slightly larger than her bedchamber back home. The furnishings consisted of a bed, a dressing table and mirror, two chairs, a bedside table and a stand that held a basin and ewer. More than adequate for her needs.

She was pleased to see fresh water in the ewer and a clean towel nearby, so she took a moment to wipe some of the travel dust from her face and hands.

She had to admit, having someone as solicitous as Mitch to smooth the path for her entry into town was quite nice. It was clear he intended to make sure she was comfortably settled rather than just wash his hands of her right away.

She hoped this resumption of formal terms of address didn't dampen any other part of their friendship. She headed downstairs with a spring in her step.

As promised, Mitch was patiently waiting for her when she returned to the lobby. And when they stepped outside, the ever-faithful Rufus was waiting, as well. “I just thought of something,” she said as he handed her back up into the wagon. “Where's Rufus going to spend his nights?”

Mitch stared at the dog a moment, then climbed up beside her. “I suppose he can stay at my house.”

“You'd do that?” His offer surprised her more than anything he'd done so far. She didn't think he even liked Rufus.

He shrugged. “He doesn't seem to be much trouble.”

Ivy was touched by his gesture, more than she knew how to say.

When they arrived at the livery, Mitch introduced her to Fred Humphries, the owner.

“Glad to meet you, miss.” Mr. Humphries turned back to Mitch. “You're back in town early, ain't you?”

Mitch shrugged. “My plans changed.” Then he changed the subject. “Miss Feagan's mule here has come up lame. We were hoping you'd take a look at it.”

Mr. Humphries examined Jubal's hoof, then declared it to be healing nicely and promised to apply a special poultice he had for such injuries.

Then they walked to the train depot. Ivy quickly dictated the telegram she wanted to send to Nana Dovie and was pleased when Mitch didn't argue over her insistence that she pay for this herself.

But as soon as they stepped outside, his high-handedness returned. “Our next stop is Dr. Pratt's office.”

“That's not necessary. It's hardly even tender anymore.”

“Nevertheless, I insist.”

She rolled her eyes, but his expression remained set. She finally decided it would be easier just to get it over with.

Along the way they passed a building with a sign that caught Ivy's eye and she stopped in her tracks—The Blue Bottle Sweet Shop and Toy Store. She turned to Mitch in delight. “Is it really a store that sells nothing but sweets and toys?”

He nodded, a hint of amusement on his face. “There's a tea shop inside, as well.”

She couldn't help herself. “Can we go inside?”

“Yes.” He gave her arm a little tug to get her moving again. “
After
we see Dr. Pratt.”

She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him, but it wasn't easy.

When they reached the doctor's home, where he apparently had his office, an older woman with a friendly smile answered his knock. “Why, hello, Mitch.” She opened the screen door wider. “I thought you were going to be gone for several more days.”

Did everyone in town know his plans?

Mitch removed his hat. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Pratt. I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I have a young lady here who needs to see your husband.”

“Of course, come right on in. Grover's still back in the clinic.”

As they stepped inside, Ivy turned back to Rufus. “Wait here, boy. We won't be long.”

Rufus obediently sat on his haunches and watched her with tongue hanging out.

Mitch made the introductions. “Mrs. Pratt, this is Miss Ivy Feagan. She's in town on business.” He turned to Ivy. “Miss Feagan, this is Mrs. Pratt, the doctor's wife.”

Ivy extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma'am.”

Mrs. Pratt took Ivy's outstretched hand and gave it a pat. “It's nice to meet you, too, dear. I hope there's nothing serious ailing you.”

“Oh, no, ma'am. Mr. Parker is just being a bit of a worrywart.”

Mitch cleared his throat. “Actually, Miss Feagan fell and ended up with a nasty cut on the back of her head. She claims to be feeling better, but I thought it best your husband look at it.”

“Quite right. Always better to be safe than sorry. Come along back to Grover's office.”

Ivy resisted the urge to roll her eyes Mitch's way as they followed the woman down the hall. This was a total waste of time, but they were here because Mitch was concerned for her welfare, and as misguided as that concern might be, she couldn't fault him for it.

In fact, it felt quite nice to have someone so squarely in her corner for a change.

* * *

Mitch sat in the outer office as Dr. Pratt examined Ivy. The examination seemed to be taking quite some time, but according to his pocket watch it had only been fifteen minutes. He supposed if she could read his thoughts she'd call him a fusspot again, but it was only natural to worry when someone had been injured.

As soon as Dr. Pratt opened the door, Mitch stood. “How is she?”

The physician closed the door behind him. “She's got quite a knot on the back of her head, but I don't think there'll be any lasting effects. With a head injury, the first twenty-four hours are usually the trickiest and it seems we're beyond that.”

Mitch felt an immense sense of relief—he refused to think that it might be out of proportion for the situation.

He ignored the questioning look the doctor gave him. “Are there any special instructions for her care?”

Before Dr. Pratt could respond, the door opened and Ivy stepped out.

“What did I tell you?” Her tone held a triumphant note. “Doc here says I'm right as rain.”

Dr. Pratt gave a stern
humph.
“That's not exactly what I said, young lady. I said there should be no lasting effects. You should take it easy for the next few days, just to be safe.” He wagged a finger. “And if you feel the least bit dizzy, I want you to come back to see me right away.”

“Yes, sir.”

Now that that was settled, Mitch brought up another topic. “By the way, I heard Drum Mosley had taken ill. How is he doing? Miss Feagan is here specifically to see him.”

The doctor's expression turned somber. “I'm sorry to be the one to deliver the bad news, but Drum passed away yesterday.” He gave Ivy a sympathetic look. “Was he a relative or friend of yours?”

She shook her head. “No. I just had some business to discuss with him.”

Ivy was doing a good job hiding her disappointment, but Mitch could see what a blow this news was.

He cleared his throat, reclaiming Dr. Pratt's attention and giving her time to collect herself. “I suppose Carter is handling the estate?”

The doctor spread his hands. “I'd assume so. As Drum's only relative, it makes sense he'd inherit it all.”

Mitch glanced at Ivy. When she held her peace, he straightened. “Thank you for your assistance, but we should be going now.”

“You make certain you do as I said and take it easy.”

Ivy nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Pratt. I will.”

“And I'll hold her to it,” Mitch added.

Mitch insisted that Dr. Pratt put the bill on his tab, countering Ivy's protest with a stern reminder that the visit had been undertaken at his insistence. A moment later they were back out on the front porch. As soon as the door closed behind them, Ivy bent to pet Rufus's head.

“Who's Carter?” she asked without looking up.

“Drum's nephew. He's helped Drum manage the ranch for a number of years now,” Mitch added.

He kept a close eye on her, trying to figure out what she was thinking, but she didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she straightened and started down the walk.

She brushed at her skirt. “Would Drum have confided in him about my father?”

“I honestly don't know. But we can certainly speak to him and find out.”

She cast him a sideways look. “We? You still want to go along?”

“Of course.” Did she think he would abandon her at this stage? He felt a certain responsibility for her—after all, he
had
been responsible for her fall.

She was quiet a moment, but her chin seemed the slightest bit higher and her step a little lighter. Was she pleased to know he was sticking around? “Perhaps I should talk to this Mr. Barr person first,” she said.

Mitch nearly missed a step. “Adam's involved in this?”

She gave him a puzzled look. “Yes, I believe his first name
is
Adam. Do you know him? He sent the letter on Mr. Mosley's behalf.”

Mitch nodded. “He's one of the men who traveled here from Philadelphia with me. And he's married to Reggie, the lady who owns the cabin we stayed at.”

“Oh.” She looked at him uncertainly. “I hadn't realized he was
that
Adam. Then I guess he's trustworthy.”

“Absolutely.” It made sense Drum would have enlisted Adam's assistance. Adam had worked as an attorney before he came to Texas, and folks still turned to him when they needed legal advice.

“Come on, I'll take you to meet him. It's probably best you and he discuss this before we pay Carter a visit.”

“Do you think we should just drop in on him without an appointment?”

“We're not going to his office—he'll be at home for the evening. And he won't mind. Besides, I need to let Reggie know I'm no longer at the cabin, anyway.”