Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star HeiressThe Lawman's Oklahoma SweetheartThe Gentleman's Bride SearchFamily on the Range

by Griggs, Winnie; Pleiter, Allie; Hale, Deborah; Nelson, Jessica

  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.”

  He glanced at the dog padding along beside them. “But we should drop Rufus off at my place first.”

  She nodded, but her mind was apparently on his earlier statement. “You said Mr. Barr was one of the men who traveled from Philadelphia with you. How many were there?”

  “There were two others—four of us in total.”

  “You must have been really good friends to just up and leave your homes, and move here together.”

  “Actually, we didn’t know each other before we planned the trip.” And they hadn’t gotten along very well at first, either. That had been a very uncomfortable trip.

  Ivy paused a heartbeat, staring at him in confusion. Then she started walking again. “Four gentlemen from Philadelphia all decide to travel way out here to Turnabout at the same time? Sounds like one whopper of a coincidence.”

  “There was no coincidence. You see, we had a common acquaintance—Reggie’s grandfather, as a matter of fact—who pulled us together for a unique business opportunity.” The opportunity being to participate in a marriage lottery for Reggie’s very unwilling hand.

  And the less said about that, the better.

  She nodded. “So y’all went into business together.”

  He could see why she’d be confused, but he really wasn’t at liberty to reveal the whole story. And to be honest, he wasn’t sure he’d want to even if he were.

  “No. We’ve all gone our separate ways. Adam married Reggie shortly after we moved here and now he manages the bank and gives legal advice on occasion. Everett runs the local newspaper and married Daisy, who runs a restaurant. And Chance and his wife, Eve, run that toy and candy shop you saw earlier.” He spread his hands. “And I’m one of the town’s two schoolteachers.” Did that sound as anticlimactic next to the accomplishments of the other three as he thought it did?

  “Do you consider these men your friends now?”

  He didn’t have to think about that one. “Of course.” The four of them had had their differences during the trip here and during those tense days when they had been waiting for Reggie to make her decision.

  To be honest, during that trip his mind had been more on his reason for leaving Philadelphia than on what company he was in. Gretchen’s death, and his guilt, had been fresh then. Getting close to anyone had been beyond his abilities.

  But in time the four men and Reggie had forged a mutual respect and friendship.

  But he hadn’t allowed anyone to get really close since he’d moved here. He wasn’t certain he even knew how any longer.

  *

  Ivy wondered if Mitch knew how telling his words had been. Each of the men who’d traveled here with him had found love and established a family. Each one except him.

  That didn’t make sense. Mitch was a tall, handsome man with a strong sense of honor and a good heart. Any girl would be lucky to have him for a husband.

  Which was not an appropriate topic for her to dwell on.

  As soon as Mitch pointed out his house, she studied it with interest. It was a white two-story structure, very simple and plain in design. It was just the right size, she decided—small enough to be cozy, but large enough so he wouldn’t feel cramped.

  It was a bit stark, though. Unlike many of the homes they’d passed, there were no swings or rockers or even benches on the front porch. The yard appeared well maintained, but there were only a few bushes flanking the front gate—no flowering plants or flashes of color. No woman’s touch.

  The fence guarding his yard was wooden, about waist high, and it seemed sturdy enough to hold Rufus, as long as the dog didn’t want out very badly.

  Mitch stepped forward to open the gate. “Let me get a bowl of water for the mutt and then we’ll head to Adam and Reggie’s place.” He paused, then added, “Perhaps it would be best if you waited here with Rufus. I’ll just be a minute.”

  She nodded—this was likely another of his attempts to protect her reputation. But despite his stiff-necked tendencies, he’d been thoughtful enough to take time to get Rufus a bowl of water.

  Then she saw his front door and she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. Unlike the stark formality of the rest of his place, the door was painted a deep apple-red. Perhaps Mitch wasn’t quite as reserved as he tried to pretend.

  True to his word, Mitch returned a few minutes later. He set a large pan on the porch, then closed the front door behind him.

  Ivy bent down and rubbed the dog’s ears. “Okay, Rufus, there’s plenty of water and lots of room to run around. You be good and don’t make Mr. Parker sorry he volunteered to keep you.”

  The dog followed them as far as the gate, then sat on his haunches as she closed him in. For a moment, Ivy worried about abandoning him in a strange place. Then he caught sight of a squirrel and took off, chasing the animal across the yard and around to the back of the house.

  She smiled. He’d be fine.

  “I like your door,” she said as they started down the walk.

  His only reply was a noncommittal “Hmm,” but she thought she detected a slight selfconscious wince.

  Deciding not to tease him further, she contented herself with asking questions about the town.

  Finally, he waved a hand. “That’s the Barr home just up ahead.”

  The Barr home was a two-story white structure, larger than Mitch’s, with a nice-size lawn and some well-cared-for rose bushes brightening up the front porch.

  “Remember, don’t mention the cabin,” Mitch reminded her. “And no first names.”

  Ivy nodded, trying to ignore the spurt of exasperation at his stern warning. Did he think she would be so indiscreet?

  But a bit of irritation was a small price to pay for all he’d done for her. Having Mitch introduce her to Mr. Barr would make her meeting with the man less awkward than it might have been otherwise.

  And she clearly needed all the help she could get, now that Drum Mosley was dead. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around that and what it meant for her. Had her chance to claim a windfall inheritance died with him? Had she made this long, trouble-plagued trip to Turnabout for nothing?

  She certainly hoped Mr. Barr had some answers for her. But knowing he was a friend of Mitch’s already inspired her with confidence that things would work out.

  And if they didn’t, well, having Mitch in her corner was still a win any way you looked at it.

  Chapter Eight

  Mitch placed a hand at the small of her back as they turned up the front walk.

  She drew comfort from his touch, suddenly feeling unaccountably
nervous. Not only was her access to that mysterious inheritance on the line, but these people were Mitch’s friends and she didn’t want to do or say anything that would embarrass him.

  A lady with vivid blue-green eyes and coffee-brown hair answered his knock.

  “Mitch.” The woman opened the screen door, concern in her expression. “I thought you planned to stay at the cabin for another four or five days. I hope nothing’s happened.” Then she noticed Ivy. “Oh, hello.”

  As Ivy stepped forward, Mitch smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, nothing untoward happened. My plans just changed.”

  Ivy smiled at the woman. “That was my fault, I’m afraid.”

  “Reggie, this is Miss Ivy Feagan.” Mitch turned to Ivy. “Miss Feagan, this is Regina Barr.”

  Reggie smiled a greeting. “Pleased to meet you. And I’m dying to hear how you changed Mitch’s plans. But first, come inside so we can speak more comfortably.”

  “Call me Ivy, please. And I’m very glad to meet you, too.”

  When Ivy entered she found herself in a warmly furnished entryway. The hat rack and hall table had both seen better days, but the wood had a lovely glow to it. The oval mirror above the narrow table had an ornately carved frame, and was flanked by lovely photographs.

  Before Ivy could take in any more, Reggie gave her arm a friendly pat. “As I said, I’m very interested in hearing how you managed to pry Mitch away from his vacation.”

  Mindful of Mitch’s concerns, Ivy chose her words carefully. “I was on my way here from Nettles Gap and ran into a bit of trouble. My mule came up lame and then I fell and bumped my head. Mr. Parker stumbled on me, so to speak, bandaged me up and offered to escort me to town.” She gave Mitch a teasing look. “I think he was afraid I’d hurt myself further if he’d didn’t keep an eye on me.”

  “How chivalrous of him.” Reggie eyed Mitch thoughtfully, then turned back to her. “You say you bumped your head—I hope you weren’t badly hurt.”

  Ivy waved dismissively. “I bumped my head, but I’m okay now. Even Dr. Pratt says so.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”