LITMIR.BIZ

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about your safety?”

      Ivy blinked. Hadn’t anyone called her a lady in a long time.

      But she quickly pushed that thought away. He could talk about her precautions all he wanted, but no one was going to lay blame at Nana Dovie’s door.

      “Nana Dovie cares about me something fierce—don’t you be thinking she doesn’t. But she wasn’t in any condition to come with me.” No, sir, she wasn’t about to let anyone speak ill of Nana Dovie, not even someone who’d been as nice as this gent.

      But he didn’t seem to take offense. “You mentioned this Nana Dovie before. Who is she?”

      “Her name’s Dovie Jacobs, and she’s sort of my mother.”

      His brow went up. “Sort of?”

      How to explain? “When you get right down to it, Nana Dovie isn’t exactly blood kin. But she’s family just the same. She took me in and raised me when my folks passed on. I was just a babe at the time.”

      “Sounds like a special lady.”

      Ivy nodded, pleased he’d understood. “And now that she’s getting on in years and needs someone to take care of her, I aim to do my best to return the favor.”

      “So what was so important that you had to leave her side and set out alone?”

      Ivy stiffened. “You sure do ask a passel of nosey questions.”

      Mr. Parker grimaced. “My apologies for prying. I’m afraid I’ve been cursed with a curious mind. I suppose that’s why I became a schoolteacher.”

      She leaned back, diverted by this bit of information. “You’re a schoolteacher? I guess that means you have a lot of book learning.” That didn’t surprise her much—he seemed like the educated type.

      His lips quirked up at that. “I do like a good book.”

      She narrowed her eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”

      “Not at all. I wouldn’t dare.”

      Not certain how to respond to that, she took another sip from her glass.

      This time he broke the silence. “You didn’t answer my question.”

      “What question?”

      “Why are you traveling to Turnabout?”

      He was like a hound on a scent—he just didn’t give up.

      “I learned a few days ago that I might have an inheritance waiting there. And I aim to find out, ’cause if I do, I plan to sell whatever it is so Nana Dovie and I can pay off some debts and make some purchases we sorely need.”

      “I see.”

      It was time for her to ask a few questions of her own. “Are you familiar with Turnabout?”

      He nodded. “I’ve lived there two years now.”

      “You mean this cabin isn’t your home?” A heartbeat later, she realized she should’ve figured that out when he said he was a schoolteacher. He’d need to live in a town where there were actual schools and students, not out in the woods.

      “This cabin belongs to friends of mine,” he explained. “They let me borrow it for a few days.”

      “Oh.” Her mind made a totally irrelevant connection. “Then this Reggie whose clothes I’m wearing...”

      “Is the owner of this place.”

      So, Reggie wasn’t his wife, then.

      Not that that was important.

      “And speaking of that,” he continued, “I still think you should take it easy today. But if you do decide you want to sit out on the porch, you’ll find more of Reggie’s clothing in that chest. Oh, and your saddlebags are on top of the trunk if you need any of your own things.”

      “Thank you. But how far away is Turnabout?”

      “It’s about a four-hour ride from here.”

      She glanced toward the window. How much daylight was left?

      As if reading her mind, he gave her a stern look. “Don’t even think about trying to travel today. Even if you were up to it—which I very much doubt—your mule is not. Besides, it’ll be dark in less than three hours.”

      She blew a stray tendril of hair off her forehead in frustration. He was right, of course. But that didn’t make it easier to accept.

      “I want you to know,” he said, looking decidedly uncomfortable, “that I am an honorable, God-fearing man. You’re perfectly safe in my company and I plan to spend the night outside so you can sleep without worry about your reputation.”

      As if that would stop any true gossipmonger’s tongue from wagging if word got out. “I appreciate you trying to do what’s proper and all, but there’s no need for that, considering the circumstances.” It said a good deal about him that he was worried about propriety and her feelings, but if he only knew how unnecessary that really was...

      Not that she planned to enlighten him.

      “Nevertheless, I feel it’s important that we attend to all the proper social conventions while we’re out here.”

      She’d be hanged if she’d let him make her even more beholden to him. “If you’re going to be that muleheaded about it, then I should be the one sleeping outside. After all, your friends loaned this place to you, not me. I’m the intruder here.”

      He stiffened as if she’d insulted him. “If you think I’ll allow that, then you must have a very low opinion of me.”

      Have mercy, the man could certainly look intimidating when he got up on his high horse. Not that such tactics would work on her. “I just think it’s silly to worry about such things at a time like this. If it makes you feel better, Rufus can sleep in here with me and be my chaperone. Why, I’ll even bar the door.”

      He stood. “I think I’ll get a bite to eat. Would you like more soup?”

      Did he take her for a simpleton? “Mr. Parker, now you’re the one who’s sidestepping the question. Do I have your word that you’ll sleep under this roof tonight?”

      His lips compressed and he was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded.

      Ivy leaned back, reassured.

      She might not know him well, but she knew in her gut that he was absolutely a man of his word.

      * * *

      Mitch sat at the table, absently eating his soup. If temperament was any indication, Miss Feagan was definitely regaining her strength. She was quickly turning into one of the most independent-minded, strong-willed, intriguing women he’d ever met.

      But there were pros and cons to that. While she might make interesting company, she would also need watching to make certain she didn’t take on more than she could handle.

      He’d been pleased to see color back in her cheeks. And her hands had almost been steady as she’d ladled up the soup. So physically it appeared she really was on the mend.

      That just left the other issue.

      He stood and stepped out onto the porch, frustrated by the situation. He wouldn’t sleep in the house with her, of course. But that was just for his own conscience. If word got out that they’d been here alone overnight, she’d be just as ruined as if he’d spent the night in her room.

      He had trouble believing she was as unconcerned by the situation as she would have him think. Perhaps she was just being pragmatic. Or perhaps she wanted to relieve him of any guilt he might be feeling.

      Or perhaps it was just that she recognized as much as he did that, other than giving them clear consciences, his sleeping outside wouldn’t do much good if word of their situation got out.

      Whatever

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