“Have you done any sketching lately? I mean, since we left the cabin.”
He nodded.
She stilled the swing and leaned forward eagerly. “May I see it?”
Something flashed in his expression—was it reluctance? Had she overstepped? But then he nodded.
“All right.”
She stood, but he held up a hand. “Keep your seat. I’ll bring it out here.”
Was he merely saving her a few steps? Or was he guarding her reputation again? Or was he forcing her to keep her distance?
When he returned, he didn’t hand over his sketchbook immediately. “It’s not finished yet. I still have some shading to do.”
She stood and smiled, holding out her hand. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He finally handed it over and she flipped open the cover. Then she gave a delighted smile. It was a sketch of Rufus. The dog stood on two legs, front paws braced against a tree and barking at something above him. She’d seen him in that very pose dozens of times. “You’ve captured him perfectly!”
Mitch rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought you might like to have this one.”
“You mean it? Oh, Mitch, I’d love to have this.” Impulsively she threw her arms around him, giving him a big hug. A moment later she realized what she’d done and stepped back, horrified.
The stunned look on his face did nothing to alleviate her embarrassment.
What must he think of her?
Chapter Fourteen
“Oh, my, I mean, oh, Mitch, I’m...I’m so sorry. I don’t know what—”
He’d recovered quicker than she had, cutting her stammering apology short by touching her arm lightly. “Please don’t apologize. I know it was merely an impulsive gesture of thanks, and I accept it as such.”
He was right, of course. That was all it had been. She’d have done the same with anyone, given the circumstances, wouldn’t she? And the fact that he’d momentarily slipped an arm around her in response had probably just been reflex, too, on his part.
She tried to cover her confusion with chatter. “It’s just that this is the best gift I’ve ever received.”
He gave a self-deprecating smile. “I doubt that, but I’m glad you like it. Now let me have it back so I can finish it.”
She gave it up reluctantly and he flipped the cover closed again.
Then she brushed at her skirt, not ready to meet his gaze yet, knowing her cheeks were still a bright pink.
“I should be going.” She needed to get away, to take stock of what had just happened without his very distracting presence beside her.
He gave her a long, searching look, and she had the feeling he was reading her thoughts. He finally nodded. “Of course. I’ll fetch the basket and then walk you home.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Perhaps, but it is what I’m going to do. Besides, Rufus needs a walk. He’s been closed up in this yard for too long.”
Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness, I should have thought of that myself. I didn’t mean to saddle you with all of Rufus’s care.”
He shrugged. “I enjoy long walks. But, if it’ll make you feel better, we can walk him together.”
How could she refuse his company when he put it that way? “Of course.”
At least that impulsive hug hadn’t pushed him away. In fact, as far as she could tell, other than his initial startled reaction, it didn’t seem to have affected him at all.
Seeing as how he was her employer, that was a good thing. So why did it leave her with a dissatisfied feeling?
* * *
Mitch still felt that impulsive hug, could feel the impact of her throwing herself at him, of her arms wrapping around his chest, of his own arm wrapping around her in return in a gesture that felt all together too right.
It had been highly inappropriate, of course. Holding her, even for so brief a moment, had opened a floodgate of emotions that he’d long held at bay. And opening that particular floodgate was a dangerous thing.
But somehow he couldn’t regret that it had happened. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that kind of close physical connection.
Of course he couldn’t allow it to happen again. It wouldn’t be fair to Ivy.
No matter how good it felt.
But if Ivy’s demeanor was any indication, he didn’t need to worry about it. She’d appeared to have some very real regrets. And now she was unusually quiet, talking to Rufus in subdued tones and doing her best not to meet his gaze.
He certainly didn’t want things to get awkward between them. After all, she’d be working in his home for the next three weeks.
Perhaps it was time he made the effort to carry a conversation.
Mitch cleared his throat. “How do you like your new accommodations?”
She glanced his way. “The room is very comfortable. Much cozier than the hotel.”
She didn’t expand further and there was another silence.
He tried again. “And are you and Mrs. Pierce getting along okay?” Her decision to sit with her landlady during the church service had startled him, but only for a moment. Given that she knew the widow had few friends, he should have guessed she’d show public support.
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.”
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.
&nbs
p; 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.”
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