“You’re quiet. Is something wrong?”
She gave him a reassuring smile. “I was just counting my blessings.”
“And what might these blessings be?”
“Well, you, for one.”
He frowned, seemingly uncomfortable with her statement, and she felt compelled to explain.
“I could have fallen out there in the woods without help close by. Or I could have arrived in town and had to confront Mr. Mosley on my own. Instead the Good Lord sent someone—you—to help me through both situations.”
Mitch shook his head. “You seem to forget, I’m the one who caused your accident in the first place. And it was Adam who did most of the talking with Carter, not me.”
She tossed her head. “I stand by what I said.” The man obviously didn’t know how to accept a compliment. Maybe he just hadn’t received enough of them. Well, she could certainly do her part to fix that.
Mitch opened the gate to the Barrs’ front walk without responding.
Reggie was in her front yard, cutting blossoms from her rose bushes. After they exchanged greetings, she gave Ivy a sympathetic smile. “Adam told me things didn’t go as smoothly as you’d hoped. I’m sorry for the trouble this will cause you, but I’m glad it gives you a reason to stay awhile.” Then she tilted her head slightly in question. “You are staying, aren’t you?”
Ivy nodded and smiled at Mitch. “I am. Thanks to Mr. Parker.”
Reggie raised a brow in Mitch’s direction. “Oh?”
“Yes, indeed.” Ivy enjoyed Mitch’s attempt to look bored with her bragging on him. “I was worried about making my money stretch to cover an extended stay. But Mr. Parker introduced me to Mrs. Pierce, who had a room to let, and then he offered me a housekeeping job so I’ll have a way to earn some money while I’m here.”
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 carefull
y, 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
The 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 vi
sibly 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.”
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