Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star HeiressThe Lawman's Oklahoma SweetheartThe Gentleman's Bride SearchFamily on the Range
Page 16
Ivy nodded. “Of course we haven’t spent much time together. I mean, she’s a bit standoffish, but that’s her right. She doesn’t know me very well yet.”
Then she gave him a smile that was closer to her usual sunny expression. “We discovered we share a love of gardening, though, so I have a good feeling about how we’ll get along in the future.”
Gardening was obviously a touchstone for her. “Her flowers are nice. I think Eve really appreciated your bringing them to our gathering.”
“I’m glad.” Her smile widened. “Mrs. Pierce’s garden is lovely. There are more flowers out back. There’s also one of the largest and most varied herb gardens I’ve ever seen—I have no idea what some of the plants even are. And she has a luscious vegetable garden, as well.”
To his relief, the awkwardness between them had all but disappeared.
Ivy absently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I plan to learn what I can from her while I’m here.”
“Are you sure she did it all herself?”
Ivy nodded decisively. “She was out watering it when I returned home yesterday. And this morning I saw her collecting some of the produce. Does that surprise you?”
Mitch found it difficult to picture the elegant Mrs. Pierce working in a garden. He’d thought he hadn’t judged the widow, but it seemed he had. “I suppose she didn’t strike me as someone who liked getting her hands dirty. You’re showing me a side of her I hadn’t seen before.”
“Nothing wrong with getting your hands dirty. A little dirt under the fingernails can help cleanse the mind of all its worries.”
“Another of your Nana Dovie’s sayings?”
She grinned. “No, that’s one of mine. But that doesn’t make it any less true.”
“I agree. And I’m glad you’ve found some common ground with Mrs. Pierce.”
“That reminds me, I’ll need at least one day off to take care of this laundry business. I can do yours at the same time if you like, as part of my housekeeping duties, I mean.”
“That’s not necessary.” There was no way he would add more to her workload. “I already send my laundry out. And as for a day off, you’ll have Sundays off, naturally, and then whichever other day you’d like, though I’d prefer it not be Saturday or Monday.”
“That makes sense. I reckon Wednesday would work best, it being the middle of the week.”
“Then Wednesday it is.”
As they reached Eileen Pierce’s gate, Ivy straightened. “I suppose it’s time I say farewell to you and Rufus.”
He was guiltily gratified to hear a touch of regret in her tone. He hoped they were back to the easy friendship they’d shared before.
Now if he could just keep things that way.
Ivy stooped down to give Rufus one last goodbye hug, and Mitch had to tamp down the memory of that embrace she’d given him. What was wrong with him?
“Be good,” she admonished the animal. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Then she smiled at him. “I’ll see you in the morning, too. Thanks for a lovely day.”
“You’re welcome.” He felt an odd reluctance to return to his empty house. “How do you plan to spend the rest of your afternoon?” he asked.
She fingered her collar. “I want to write a letter to Nana Dovie. A lot’s happened since I left Nettles Gap and I know she’s curious. There’s so much more you can say in a letter than a telegram.”
And then Ivy closed her eyes and lifted her face as if absorbing the heat of the sun. “It’s such a pretty afternoon,” she said dreamily.
The unconscious innocence of that gesture, and the beauty of her smile, took his breath away.
Then she dropped her chin and opened her eyes. “I’ll probably sit on the front porch to write the letter.”
He hoped she hadn’t noticed his momentary gaping. But she wasn’t looking at him. She brushed at her skirt. “How about you?”
Was she reluctant to part, as well? He shook off the thought.
“I’ll probably finish the book I started earlier this week.” Strange that he hadn’t thought about that book since Ivy had entered his life.
She nodded but didn’t turn away immediately. “Oh, I forgot to ask—what time would you like me to show up tomorrow?”
Mitch considered that a moment. His first thought was to have her arrive at nine o’clock since he liked to have time for quiet reflection when he first got up in the morning. But then he realized that would leave her on her own for breakfast.
“I’d like my morning meal on the table at eight-thirty. Will that be a problem?” He normally ate much earlier, but he supposed he could survive on coffee until she arrived.
“Not at all. What do you like to have for breakfast?”
“Nothing fancy. Biscuits and eggs will do.”
She gave him an exasperated look. “Now what kind of breakfast is that? A body needs a hearty meal to start off the day proper—especially a body as large as yours.” Her teasing look made it clear she’d meant no offense.
“I’ll fix your eggs and biscuits, of course,” she continued, “but I’ll also add meat and cheese. And some jam for the biscuits. And if I can find potatoes—”
He raised a hand. “Don’t go overboard. Adding a bit of meat and some jam will be more than enough.”
“All right, you’re the boss, I suppose.” Her words were delivered with a reluctance that amused him. “I’ll shop for supplies first thing and then see you bright and early.”
He nodded, waiting for her to turn and go.
But she wasn’t finished. “Hopefully I’ll arrive before Reggie’s cuttings are delivered.”
He’d forgotten about her plans for a garden. “If not, I’ll see that they’re unloaded properly for you.”
“Thank you.” She gave a little wave. “Well, goodbye.”
Was he imagining the wistfulness in her voice? Mitch stayed by the gate until she reached the front porch. Then he turned and headed for his place, Rufus padding along beside him.
It was definitely going to be an interesting three weeks.
*
Twenty minutes later, Ivy sat on the front porch, a half-written letter on the table beside her.
She’d been worried that her impulsive gesture earlier would cause some awkwardness between them, causing Mitch to worry that she was much too forward, or that she was throwing herself at him. But it seemed that hadn’t been the case. Any surprise he’d felt had been short-lived.
By the end of their walk, it appeared he was prepared to act as if it hadn’t happened.
She, on the other hand, couldn’t brush it aside quite as easily.
It had only been six days since she’d met Mitch, but she was afraid she might already be developing deeper feelings for him.
Which would never do. Because falling for him would only lead to heartache.
He was kind and generous and honorable—everything a girl could hope for in a husband. But he wasn’t romantically inclined toward her. Which was actually a good thing, because if he ever learned all there was to know about her, he would be shocked, and perhaps worse. And she couldn’t bear to see that in his eyes.
Besides, he was her employer now, and it would be best to keep things strictly businesslike between them.
No matter how unbusinesslike she felt.
And she would never, ever think about that unfortunate, but very, very nice embrace again.
Now if she could just figure out how to make her heart listen to common sense.
Chapter Fifteen
Ivy gave Rufus a quick pat when she arrived the next morning, but then moved briskly toward Mitch’s back door. She was determined to be businesslike today. She would focus on doing a good job and earning her pay—nothing more.
She smelled the coffee as soon as she opened the door.
“Good morning,” Mitch said, sitting at the table with a cup, giving her that smile that she was quickly getting addicted to despite herself. He stood and crossed the room to take the basket
from her. Those gentlemanly gestures were quite addictive, as well.
“Good morning,” she said briskly. “That coffee smells good.”
“Help yourself. The stove is already stoked and ready for you.”
She grinned. “Hungry?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t turn down a good meal.”
She’d have to make sure she got here a little earlier tomorrow. Those were chores she should be doing herself if she was going to be earning her pay.
Ivy hung her bonnet on a peg by the door, then paused. There, on one of the other pegs, was a nicely starched apron. When in the world had he gotten it?
She lifted it from the peg and put it on, then spun around to face him. “Very nice. Thanks.”
He gave a casual wave. “You can thank Daisy—it’s one of her extras,” he said casually, though she thought she detected a note of pleasure.
“But you’re the one who got it for me, so again, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Then he gave her a stern look. “You’re planning to have breakfast with me, right?”
It was time to establish limits. “I don’t think that’s appropriate. It’s important that we maintain a businesslike relationship.” She was fast coming to hate that word.
He leaned back in his chair. “Now who’s being overly concerned with propriety?”
She was determined to stand her ground. “I want to make certain we do this right. Remember—no special treatment.”
He raised a brow at that. “You remember that first night when we ate at Reggie and Adam’s home?”
She nodded, wondering where he was going.
“Didn’t Mrs. Peavy, Reggie’s housekeeper, sit down to eat with the family? Are you saying that was inappropriate?”
“Well, no, but—”
“No buts. If it’s appropriate for the Barr household, it’s appropriate for this one.”
Now she was confused. She couldn’t find a hole in his argument, but she was sure there was one somewhere.
When she didn’t answer right away, he smiled. “I’ll take that as agreement, so the matter is settled.” He moved to the hall door. “I’ll be in the study if you need me for anything.”
Unable to come up with a response, Ivy clamped her mouth shut and went to work preparing the meal.
He sure wasn’t making it easy for her to maintain her distance.
Then again, if she insisted on maintaining a strict working relationship with him, it would make it harder for her to fulfill her goal of helping him learn to let down his guard a bit and take joy in what life had to offer.
Somehow she’d have to figure out how to strike a proper balance.
And protect her own all-too-vulnerable heart in the process.
*
Mitch felt quite pleased with himself as he sat in his study, listening to the sounds of Ivy in his kitchen, preparing his breakfast. She’d liked the apron and he’d convinced her to share his meals. Two victories in her first ten minutes officially on the job. Perhaps he’d be able to maintain control of the situation after all.
When she called him in to eat, he tried to ignore the fact that it wasn’t just hunger that hurried his steps toward the kitchen.
As with the other meals she’d prepared for him, it was simple but hearty fare. They passed the time in easy conversation, with him allowing her to do most of the talking. He found the personal glimpses of her life and character that slipped into her conversation absolutely fascinating. Her ability to laugh at herself, and to find blessings in the darkest of situations was both admirable and charming.
But there was one thing missing from her stories, something that he thought might give him a further insight as to what her life at home was like. During a rare pause, he decided to touch on it.
“It sounds like you and Miss Jacobs lead an interesting life on that farm of yours.”
She nodded. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.”
He ignored the little twinge he felt at that and moved on. “I assume you don’t spend all your time there, though. What’s life like in Nettles Gap itself?”
She shifted in her seat, as if suddenly uncomfortable. “Nettles Gap is a lot like Turnabout, only smaller. We have a church, a school, a livery and so on. The railroad bypassed us, but the stage still comes through every Tuesday, and Mr. O’Hara runs a freight wagon from the train station at Bluehawk a couple of times a month.”
Was she deliberately avoiding his question? “I wasn’t asking about the town’s commerce, I was asking what sort of social life you have there. What do you do for fun?”
She’d forked up the last bit of egg from her plate, and now she slowly chewed her food. He had the feeling there was something here she really didn’t want to talk about. Should he change the subject?
Before he could decide, a knock sounded at the front door.
Ivy quickly stood, something like relief on her face. “I thought you said you never have visitors.”
“I usually don’t.” He stood and moved toward the hall, but Ivy stopped him with a raised hand.
“Hold on. I’m the housekeeper, remember? I should be answering the door.”
He frowned, letting his exasperation show. “Nonsense. Whoever is at the door is no doubt here to see me, not you.”
She fisted her hands on her hips. “That’s neither here nor there. You hired me to be your housekeeper, and I intend to do my job.”
He tried another tack. “You wouldn’t be trying to put off doing the dishes, would you?”
His teasing had the desired effect. She relaxed and grinned. “Maybe.” Then she waved a hand in surrender. “All right, you answer the door and I’ll get started on the dishes.”
As Mitch headed down the hall, his thoughts returned to the strange way she’d reacted to his question. What was she hiding?
He opened the door to see Ira Peavy standing there. Behind him, at the foot of the porch steps, was Jack with a wagon crammed full of plants.
“Reggie said you’d be expecting these,” Ira said with a grin. “Where do you want them?”
“By the back door, if you don’t mind. I’ll let Miss Feagan know you’re here.” He glanced down at Jack. “I think there may be a few extra buttermilk biscuits and some honey if anyone is hungry.”
Jack’s eyes lit up. “Yes, sir!”
When Mitch returned to the kitchen, he found Ivy energetically scrubbing a plate.
“I was wrong,” he said when she looked up. “It was for you. Jack and Ira are here with your cuttings. They’re bringing them around back.”
A dazzling smile lit her face. “Oh, I’d almost forgotten! If you’ll have them unload everything next to the porch I’ll tend to the planting as soon as I’m done cleaning up in here.”
With a nod, Mitch stepped outside, hiding a grin at the way Ivy seemed to suddenly be moving at double speed. She was obviously eager to finish her chores so she could tend to the plants. He’d tell her to let the dishes wait, but he knew she wouldn’t welcome anything that hinted at special treatment.
Besides, he needed a few more moments to figure out how he was going to get her talking about her life in Nettles Gap again.
*
Ivy flew through her chores, listening to Mitch, Mr. Peavy and Jack chat as they unloaded the wagon. Of course it was mostly Mr. Peavy and Jack doing the talking. Good to know Mitch wasn’t quiet just with her.
Then again, she sure wished he’d been less chatty when he started asking about her life in Nettles Gap. She wasn’t going to lie to him, but she’d rather not be too forthcoming about certain aspects of her life there.
Better to focus on something more positive. Like the wagonload of cuttings. She was already picturing where she’d place each plant, and she couldn’t wait to get started.
As soon as she’d put away the last plate, she stepped outside. The wagon had already been unloaded. Mr. Peavy and Mitch stood nearby talking and Jack was across the yard, playing with Rufus.
&
nbsp; Ivy looked over the plants and frowned. “There must be some mistake. There’s more here than Reggie and I agreed on.”
“No mistake,” Mr. Peavy said. “Reggie loaded this wagon herself.”
Her new friend had been more than generous. There were the peppers, peas, snaps and cucumbers they’d discussed. And sage, rosemary and lavender. But there was also squash, okra, parsley, thyme, mint and a few other things she’d have to take a closer look at to identify.
“Make sure you tell her how much I appreciate this. And, if you don’t mind, also let her know I plan to stop by and thank her in person as soon as I can.”
“By the way,” Mitch said, “I told Jack there might be some biscuits and honey left from breakfast.”
“Of course.” She refrained from casting a longing look at the plants and waved for the boy to follow her. “Come on inside and I’ll fix you right up.”
Fifteen minutes later, Ira clapped Jack on the shoulder and said it was time to go, and the two took their leave.
With a happy sigh, Ivy turned to her gardenin-the-making. She knelt, ignoring Mitch’s amused expression, to look through the bounty Ira and Jack had delivered.
“Oh, look,” she exclaimed. “There’s even cuttings from her rosebush. We’ll have to plant these near your front porch.”
“If you like.” There was a decided lack of enthusiasm in his voice.
She glanced up curiously. “Don’t you like roses?”
“I don’t dislike them.”
Was he not certain how to care for them? “They’re not really hard to nurture and they’ll definitely brighten up your front yard.”
Again that disinterested shrug. “I’ve managed just fine with a not-so-bright front yard.”
Was he being deliberately contrary? She refused to let it deter her. “Wait and see. You’re going to like the difference it makes.”
He straightened. “I’ll get the garden tools while you finish sorting the plants.”
He was offering to help her again. “Please don’t feel you need to join me if you’ve got something else to tend to. After all, this is part of my job now.” She grinned. “The fun part.”