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

“Can’t? Or won’t? You need to take emotions out of this and be reasonable.”

  “I am being reasonable. When I marry, it’s going to be for love. Otherwise, everything I’ve gone through the past five years has been for nothing.”

  Mitch had no response to that. The fact that her words indicated she didn’t love him was irrelevant.

  So why did he feel this stab of disappointment?

  Brushing that thought aside, he tried again. “If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t want to be known as a man who won’t take responsibility for his mistakes.”

  She winced, then straightened. “I think your reputation is strong enough to survive this, especially once I’m gone.” She lifted her chin. “But if you’re really worried, I can make it obvious that you asked and I refused.”

  “Will you do it to save me from the advances of women like Mrs. Swenson?”

  At least that won him a grin. “Coward. I’m afraid you’ll have to find another way to deal with the women who are attracted to you.” She stood and brushed at her skirt. “Now, I think Rufus has chased enough squirrels for the afternoon.”

  “We’re not through with this discussion.”

  “I am. At least for today.” She whistled for Rufus and began to walk away.

  Mitch shook his head and followed the frustrating woman.

  *

  Ivy held herself together by sheer willpower. She was doing the right thing, so why did it hurt so much? For all his support and kindness, Mitch had never once mentioned love.

  She didn’t know why she’d thought he might—perhaps it was Daisy’s comments that had planted that idea in her mind. But it was now crystal clear that he was proposing marriage out of a sense of obligation and nothing more. He wanted to protect her and that was admirable, but it wasn’t the same as love.

  The problem was, she now realized, she loved him.

  There it was, plain as the sun in the sky and every bit as big. She loved him, and because she did, she couldn’t allow him to sacrifice himself for her.

  No matter how sweet the thought of a life with him sounded.

  Mitch walked her to Mrs. Pierce’s house and left her at the front gate. She could tell he was unhappy with her decision, but there was no help for it. And after she’d returned to Nettles Gap, he’d realize she’d been right.

  The first thing Ivy did when she stepped inside the house was seek out her landlady, whom she found doing some stitchwork in the parlor.

  “I suppose you heard the whispers,” she said without preamble.

  Mrs. Pierce looked up from her stitchery. “I don’t indulge in idle chitchat much these days.” There seemed to be a wealth of meaning in her words.

  Ivy took a deep breath, drew her shoulders back and met the woman’s mildly curious gaze. “They’re saying that Mr. Parker and I spent time together at the cabin before coming into town.”

  The widow set the cloth and needle on the sofa, and then folded her hands in her lap. “And did you?”

  Ivy tilted her chin up. “I was injured and Mr. Parker didn’t have a way to get me into town right away.”

  “So that means yes.”

  Ivy gave a short nod. It was hard to tell what the woman was thinking. “If you want me to move out, just say the word.”

  “What you did or did not do is none of my concern so long as you continue to pay the rent and follow my rules.”

  Some of the rigidness left Ivy’s spine. “Of course.”

  “Will you be continuing to work for Mr. Parker?”

  “For now. We want to go on as before.”

  “I see.” Mrs. Pierce picked up her sewing again. “If, by some happenstance, you find yourself no longer able to work for Mr. Parker, I may have some work for you myself.”

  Ivy was both surprised and touched by the out-of-the-blue offer. “What kind of work?”

  “I hear you are making curtains for Mr. Parker’s kitchen, so I assume you can sew.”

  Ivy nodded.

  “I have decided it’s time to add a bit of color to my wardrobe again. But none of my older gowns fit as they should. I need someone to take them in for me.”

  “I would be more than happy to help you with that task in the evenings.”

  “Then we will come up with a price per garment that we can agree on and adjust your weekly rent payment accordingly.”

  “Mrs. Pierce, I meant I would be glad to help you as a friend.”

  The woman paused midstitch for just a heartbeat. Then she nodded. “Thank you.”

  “If you like, you could select several pieces now and we could take a look at what needs to be done.”

  The woman rose gracefully from the sofa. “I suppose that would be acceptable.” She moved to the doorway, then paused and glanced back at Ivy, her demeanor cool. “And afterward, perhaps you would care to join me for supper.” Her expression softened. “And please, call me Eileen.”

  “I’d be honored.”

  Ivy watched Eileen leave the room. This had definitely been a day of emotional highs and lows. She’d let slip the secret that brought her and Mitch under judgmental scrutiny. But then God had used the opportunity to show her what good friends she had in the women who were part of the Sunday lunch gathering.

  Mitch had tried to convince her to marry him and in doing so had made it clear that he didn’t love her. But she had discovered that she loved him, and though it was a bittersweet realization, it was one she still treasured.

  And now she had this new opportunity to crack through the wall Eileen Pierce had built around herself and forge a friendship.

  Dear Lord, I’d hoped this little vacation from everyone looking down their nose at me would last while I was here. But I did this to myself so I don’t have any call to be complaining. Thank You for giving me a passel of blessings to help offset the trials. Please help me to focus on those blessings, and to make my peace with the trials.

  And chief among those blessings was Mitch. No matter the outcome, she would never be sorry for this time she’d had with him.

  And she still had to find a way to help him. On top of everything else, she had to make sure this gossip didn’t hurt him.

  But how?

  *

  The next morning, Ivy did her best to hold her head up and smile as she walked through town. She hoped for the best but braced herself for snubs.

  The first few people she encountered seemed more uncertain than affronted. She received tentative smiles and nods in return for her greetings. She saw a couple of women on the other side of the street whispering behind their hands, and she tried to convince herself they were talking about something besides her.

  Then, as she passed Daisy’s restaurant, Abigail stepped out onto the sidewalk. She linked her arm through Ivy’s with a smile. “Mind if I walk to the mercantile with you? I need to pick up some flour for Daisy.”

  “Of course.” Had this been Abigail’s idea or had Daisy put her up to it? Regardless, Ivy was grateful for the show of support. Especially when they arrived at the mercantile to find Mrs. Ortolon there talking to two other ladies.

  The conversation came to an abrupt stop when they entered. Abigail ignored it all, and keeping her arm firmly locked with Ivy’s, she approached the counter and greeted the proprietor as well as Mrs. Ortolon and her friends.

  Ivy almost felt sorry for them. Abigail was relentless in her cheerful chatter, giving them no choice but to respond or seem churlish. When they parted company, Abigail gave her a very tight, very public hug. “Don’t forget you have friends here,” the girl whispered. And then she was gone.

  Buoyed by that encounter, Ivy had no trouble keeping a smile on her face as she walked the rest of the way to Mitch’s.

  She arrived to find him standing outside talking to two young men.

  He immediately waved her over. “I’d like to introduce you to Calvin and James Hendricks. I’ve hired them to paint my house and
shutters.”

  Both youths tipped their hats respectfully in response to her greeting, then turned back to their work.

  Ivy frowned. Mitch’s house didn’t really need painting. Maybe she’d had some influence on him and he’d decided to add some color. She leaned forward, eager to check out the paint cans, then dropped back on her heels in disappointment. It was stark white, the same color as his existing walls.

  She shook her head. “While you’re going to all of this trouble, might I suggest you at least think about painting your shutters red to match your door.”

  Mitch studied his house for a moment, then nodded. “Good idea.” He turned to the older of the young men. “Calvin, we may need another can of the red paint.”

  Calvin saluted with his paintbrush. “Yes, sir, I’ll take care of it.”

  As Ivy watched this exchange, it suddenly hit her—Mitch had hired the Hendricks brothers not because he had a pressing need to paint his home, but to serve as very visible chaperones for the next few days.

  She didn’t know whether to be grateful or irritated. Then she decided she was a little of both.

  As she climbed the back porch steps, she mentally reviewed her basket of groceries and what she could remember of the pantry contents and decided it would stretch to feed two additional people who would likely have hearty appetites after working out in this heat all morning. She’d decided last night that one way to try to help him was to get him to talk about his wife. It was an understandably touchy subject for him, but she needed to understand, and she also felt it would be good for him to share his hurt, as well.

  She just had to find the right time….

  *

  Mitch watched as Ivy dusted the bookshelves. She seemed unusually pensive this afternoon. Was the gossip taking its toll on her? Perhaps it was time to renew his efforts. “So, have you been thinking about what we discussed yesterday?”

  She didn’t turn around. “It would be hard not to.”

  Her dry tone gave nothing away. “And are you ready to see reason and admit marriage is the best course of action? I assure you, I will let you go your own way afterward if that’s what you want.”

  She was silent for a long moment, and he wished she would turn around so he could see her face. Finally, she did.

  “I told you, when I marry, it will be for love.”

  There was a finality in her tone that seemed to slam the door on the subject. But it was the words themselves that struck him hard. She was saying she wouldn’t marry him because she didn’t love him.

  Not that he was looking for love from her. It was just, well, didn’t she feel even the least bit of affection?

  “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

  There was something in her tone that told him he wouldn’t like the question. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to deny her, so he gave a short nod.

  “What was your wife like?”

  Mitch kept his expression carefully neutral, but it took some effort. “The first word that comes to mind when thinking of Gretchen is gentle. She was a very sweet, very delicate woman.”

  Ivy nodded. “You must have loved her very much.”

  Mitch straightened a few papers on his desk, not meeting her gaze. He had cared for Gretchen, very much. But—

  He realized Ivy was still waiting for his answer. “Everyone who knew Gretchen loved her.” He moved a stack of papers on his desk by a half inch. “And she loved me, right up until the day she died, though I never did quite figure out why.”

  “I know why.” Her soft words caught him by surprise and he glanced up quickly.

  She reddened and turned back to her dusting. “That’s why you’re so set against getting married again, isn’t it? You’re still in mourning and don’t want to go through the pain of losing someone again.” She shot him a look over her shoulder. “But that’s the wrong way to look at it. If you don’t let yourself love again, it’s true you might never again hurt as deeply, but you’ll never find joy, either. And that would be very sad.”

  “I’ve asked you to marry me, haven’t I?”

  “Because you feel like you must, not because you want to.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  She shrugged. “Because it does.”

  He hesitated a moment. She’d bared her soul to him yesterday. Now it was his turn. “You’re wrong.”

  That earned him a startled look.

  “About the reason behind my decision to not marry again,” he explained. “It’s not because I mourn Gretchen so deeply. It’s because I killed her.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Ivy wasn’t certain she’d heard right. “By accident, you mean.”

  His lips compressed in a hard line. “It was a deliberate action on my part that led to her death.”

  Just as she’d thought. “Then you didn’t kill her. You just feel responsible for whatever happened.” She crossed the room to stand in front of his desk. “Tell me what happened.”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “Gretchen didn’t believe in violence, not for any reason, not even in self-defense. She believed one should always turn the other cheek, no matter what. And I tried to live that way, for her sake.”

  “Tried?”

  “Pacifism doesn’t come easily to me. But I was successful, for a time. Then one of our neighbors, a fellow named Early, started a feud over land boundaries. And no matter how much Gretchen pleaded with me to just give in, I wouldn’t do it. I’d worked that land with my own two hands and I intended it to be a legacy to my children someday.”

  “It was your right to stand up for what was yours.”

  Mitch continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “The dispute escalated. I took Early to court and won my case. I was quite proud of myself. I’d managed to hold on to my land without resorting to violence.”

  He made a sound that was full of self-derision. “But the man’s son decided to ignore the judge’s orders and began tearing down fences. Before I could do anything about it, he broke his neck when his horse threw him. Unfortunately, it happened on my property. When I carried his body back to his father, he didn’t believe it was an accident.”

  How awful that must have been—for all parties.

  “No matter how I tried to explain, Early blamed me. That night he came riding onto my place all drunk and wild-eyed and ready for blood. Gretchen begged me to stay inside, but I stepped out with my rifle. There was a gunfight and a stray bullet found its way into the house and killed Gretchen.”

  His gaze finally met hers again and she was shocked at the bleakness she saw there. “She was carrying our baby at the time,” he said dully.

  Jagged shards of horror pierced Ivy’s heart at the thought of what he’d gone through. She came around to his side of the desk and took both of his hands. “Oh, Mitch, I’m so sorry. That must have been terrible for you.” She squeezed his hands. “But her death was not your fault.”

  “Wasn’t it? If I had done what Gretchen wanted, if I had turned the other cheek and not taken him to court, Gretchen and the baby would still be alive.”

  “You can’t know that for sure.”

  “Their chances would certainly have been better.”

  “But what would have happened to you?”

  “Me? I would have been poorer, but I imagine I would have survived, as well.”

  “Physically. But if you had done as your wife wished and let that neighbor run roughshod over you, it would have eaten away at the part of you that needs to take care of your family and build a home that is safe and secure. It would have made you feel less of a man and more than likely affected the way you viewed your relationship with your wife.”

  He gave her a self-mocking smile. “Don’t you believe in turning the other cheek, in reserving vengeance for the Lord, the way it says in the Bible?”

  “There is a time and place for that. But there is also a time to stand up and defend yourself and your loved ones. And yes, that’s biblical.”

  He
didn’t seem entirely convinced.

  “Mitch, have you prayed about this?”

  “I haven’t come to terms with God on this matter yet.” He said this almost defiantly, as if trying to shock her. “I went a little crazy for a while. Nearly killed Early and did some property damage.” His lips twisted in a grimace. “It should have been me who died that night, not Gretchen.”

  “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t even think it. God left you here for a reason—don’t try to second-guess Him. It’s hard when we lose our loved ones, but we’ve got to trust that God is in control and that He loves us.” She saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “He does love you,” she said firmly. “There’s nothing you can do that He won’t forgive, if you just ask Him to.”

  Mitch pulled his hands from hers and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go see how the Hendricks boys are doing.” And with that, he strode from the room.

  Ivy stood there for a long time after he’d gone, her heart breaking for him. The story he’d related had been truly heartrending—to have lost not only his wife but his unborn child in such a manner—how had he borne up under such pain? That was a terrible burden to carry all on his own. No wonder he was afraid to give his heart again.

  But his thinking was flawed. Somehow she had to make him see that.

  It had become her new goal.

  *

  Later that afternoon Ivy answered a knock at Mitch’s door to find Carter Mosley standing there, hat in hand.

  “Miss Feagan, could I speak to you for a few minutes?”

  She opened the door. “Of course. Come in.”

  Mitch stepped out into the hall. “Who is it?” Then he saw Carter and his eyes narrowed. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Actually, I came to speak to Miss Feagan.”

  “Perhaps you should wait to do your talking when the judge arrives.”

  Ivy held up a hand. “No, it’s all right. I’d like to hear what he has to say.”

  Mitch crossed his arms. “Then I hope the two of you won’t mind if I sit in.”

  “Not at all.” Carter fingered the brim of his hat. “Look, I know I wasn’t very civil last time we spoke, and you have every right to be angry, but I’m sorry for that and I hope you’ll hear me out now.”