Mitch remained silent as he escorted Ivy to Mrs. Pierce’s home. But his mind was churning furiously, trying to process what Ivy’s slip of the tongue meant for the two of them. There was a small chance, of course, that nothing would come of it. But he needed to be prepared for the worst. He needed to prepare Ivy for the worst.
And come what may, he would make sure she didn’t suffer for this. Even if it meant he had to go back on his vow to never remarry. Surprisingly that prospect didn’t bother him as much as it would have a mere week ago.
He placed his hand on the gate to Mrs. Pierce’s front walk, but didn’t open it. He waited for Ivy to meet his gaze, but she didn’t seem inclined to do that anytime soon.
“Ivy,” he said gently, “we need to talk about this.”
She finally looked up, and the regret in her eyes was almost his undoing. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “You warned me, but I didn’t take it seriously enough.”
He touched her arm. It was supposed to be a gesture of comfort, but he felt something more pass between them. “It’s not the end of the world. If the worst happens, I promise to step up and give you the protection of my name.”
She withdrew her arm from his hold. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to make such a sacrifice.”
By the tone of her voice and the injured pride in her expression he realized he’d flubbed his offer. “I truly wouldn’t mind.”
She opened the gate, her posture stiff. “I know you mean well, but there’s no need. Now, let me take care of the flowers so we can be on our way.” And with that, she marched toward the porch.
Mitch rubbed the back of his neck. What now? How could he make this right?
“Ivy, I’m sorry if—”
“You’ve nothing to apologize for. It was an honorable gesture. But we both know how you feel about getting married again, so you’ll be relieved to know I release you from all responsibility.”
Was she wielding the garden shears with just a little more vigor than necessary? “Will you please just put that down and talk to me face-to-face for a moment?”
She ignored his request. “There’s nothing further to say. And we don’t want to keep your friends waiting.”
And no matter how much he tried, she refused to budge from her position.
It was a quiet walk to The Blue Bottle.
As soon as they stepped inside, it was obvious from the sympathetic looks that everyone had already heard the rumors.
Ivy excused herself and scuttled off to the kitchen as if she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
Mitch watched the kitchen door close behind her, his frustration curling his hands into fists at his sides. Surely there was something he could do to fix this.
He turned to find all three of his friends regarding him with sympathy. He grimaced. “How bad is it?”
Adam answered first. “Reggie was approached by two different people who heard second-and thirdhand that you and Ivy spent time together at our cabin.”
“Mrs. Ortolon was flitting around the churchyard like a bee in a flower garden,” Chance added.
“It was entirely innocent,” Mitch explained through his clenched jaw. “She was injured and her mule had come up lame. We had no choice.”
“We never thought otherwise,” Adam assured him.
The other two men nodded agreement, and Mitch felt some of his stiffness ease. He thanked them with a nod and rubbed his jaw. “I plan to do the right thing, of course,” he said. “I’m just having trouble convincing Ivy that marrying me is the right thing.”
Everett clapped him on the back, and Mitch remembered that the newspaperman had once been in a similar situation when Eunice Ortolon had discovered an unlocked door that connected his apartment to Daisy’s.
“She hasn’t had time to think it through,” his friend said in that clipped British accent of his. “Give her time. She’ll come around.”
Mitch certainly hoped Everett was right.
* * *
Ivy stepped into the kitchen, tightly clutching the basket of flowers. What sort of reception would these women give her? If they turned cold or distant, she wasn’t sure she could bear it. In fact, it might be best for everyone if she just found an excuse to leave now, before things got awkward or uncomfortable. If she said she felt ill, that wouldn’t be a lie—her stomach was tied in knots so tight she’d never be able to eat a bite anyway.
But the women were so unbelievably supportive she almost broke down and cried right there.
Immediately she was engulfed by her friends. Mrs. Peavy took the basket of flowers, Reggie led her to the table and Eve placed a warm cup of tea in her hands.
What should she say? Explanations tumbled around in her mind, chaotic thoughts out of sequence and incomplete. What came out was “It wasn’t Mitch’s fault.”
“Of course it wasn’t.” Eve patted her hand. “And I’m sure it wasn’t yours, either.”
“Nothing happened.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to us.” Reggie took the chair beside her. “We know Mitch is honorable, and we can see what high regard he has for you.”
Mitch held her in high regard?
She looked at Reggie. “I stayed two nights at your cabin and borrowed some of your things—I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
Reggie waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t give that another thought. I’m just glad it was there when you needed it.”
Why were these women being so nice? Would they feel the same if they knew her whole story?
Daisy placed a hand on her shoulder. “You look like you could use a bit of fresh air. Why don’t we step out back for a moment?”
Ivy frowned, not certain why Daisy had issued the unexpected invitation, but she saw something in the woman’s eyes that convinced her to accept the offer.
They walked in silence for a moment, and then Daisy spoke up. “I understand how you’re feeling, because something very similar happened to me.”
Ivy shot her a disbelieving look. “What do you mean?”
“I mean Everett and I were the subject of some rather unpleasant gossip, and were more or less backed into a corner where we had to announce our engagement.”
“How awful. But, I mean, it seems obvious you two love each other.”
Daisy’s smile softened. “Very much. Only it wasn’t so obvious then, and I didn’t much cotton to the idea of marrying someone who didn’t really want to be married.”
So Daisy did understand. But then again, Daisy wasn’t dragging a sullied past into the marriage with her. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
“I told you because I don’t want you to lose heart. I’ve seen the way Mitch looks at you, and you at him. The two of you are good with and for each other.”
Ivy wished that were true. “Thank you, but this is more complicated than it appears. We’re friends and that’s as far as it can go. I’ll be returning to Nettles Gap in a couple of weeks and then Mitch can get on with his life.”
“I don’t believe that will be as easy for him as you think.”
Ivy’s heart fluttered at that. But much as she wanted to believe it, she was sure Daisy was mistaken. Besides, what was the use? There were too many obstacles in their way. And now this.
She mustered a smile. “We ought to be getting back. It’ll be time to set the table by now.”
Daisy touched her arm lightly. “Please think about what I said. And no matter what you decide, remember that you have friends here.”
There was no further mention of the gossip, and the meal proceeded as it had the previous Sunday. But this time Ivy studiously avoided looking Mitch’s way.
She couldn’t keep him from her thoughts, though. She remained acutely aware of his every movement, his every word. And try as she might, she couldn’t forget what Daisy had told her.
Later, as they left The Blue Bottle together, Ivy nervously waited for Mitch to say something. Would he press her to marry him again, or had he accepted her refusal as the out he needed?
When they reached the crossroad where they would normally turn to go to his home, Ivy halted. “Perhaps I should leave you here.”
He frowned down at her. “We need to talk. The sooner we settle this matter, the better.”
“I consider it already settled.”
His frown deepened. “Do you really want to have this discussion here on this street corner?”
She glared at him. She was not going to let him bully her into giving in. “I certainly don’t think it advisable for us to have it inside your house right now.”
His jaw worked for a moment, and then he nodded. “Agreed. We can have our discussion as we walk Rufus.” He arched a brow. “Assuming that’s acceptable?”
She supposed she couldn’t put him off forever. She gave what she hoped was a regal nod. “It is.”
No sooner were they following an exuberant Rufus out the front gate than Mitch said, “We must announce our engagement immediately.”
Well, at least he wasn’t beating around the bush. “We’ll do no such thing.”
“I understand that this isn’t the ideal arrangement for either of us, but there’s no other solution. You may think you don’t care about your reputation, but believe me, when everyone starts whispering and staring, you’ll change your mind.”
“I won’t.” She took a deep breath. It was time to be totally honest. “And I’m not guessing. I’ve already been through that, and I know exactly how it feels.”
He stopped in his tracks. “What do you mean?”
She turned to face him, her gaze locked to his with all the intensity she could muster. “My reputation was already shredded five years ago.”
* * *
Mitch saw the pain behind her brave facade. Who had hurt her? He suddenly wanted to find whoever was responsible for that haunted look in her eyes and make him pay.
They were passing the deserted school yard, and he led her to one of the swings. He leaned against a tree and waited for her to explain.
She finally met his gaze. “Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”
“Only if you want to tell me. But I know whatever happened, you were wronged.”
He saw her eyes fill with tears then, but she didn’t allow them to fall. Instead, she nodded and pushed the swing into a lazy rocking motion. “I’d like to tell you about it.”
“Then I’m honored to listen.”
“When I was sixteen, a young man decided to court me. To this day, I’m not really certain why. He was quite prominent in our community—the son of the mercantile owner—and several girls had made it clear they would welcome his advances. The thing was, I didn’t share his feelings and tried to tell him so. But he apparently thought I was just being coy.”
Mitch thought of his situation with Mrs. Swenson. But how much worse must it have been for her?
She wrapped her arms around the ropes holding up the swing. “Finally, at one of the town dances, when he was being particularly insistent, I made my feelings very clear, telling him in no uncertain terms just how I felt. Unfortunately, the encounter was not as private as I’d thought and Lester felt humiliated.”
So this cad’s name was Lester.
“Lester couldn’t accept what I’d done—not when I’d so inadvertently but thoroughly stomped on his pride. So he figured out a way to get even.”
Mitch hadn’t even heard what the cad had done and already he was ready to throttle him. It was probably just as well the oaf wasn’t in striking distance.
“We had a goat that liked to wander off. He never went far, but one day I had trouble finding him and ended up going farther into the woods than I’d realized. Then I found the animal tied to a tree. Before I could do more than wonder what was going on, someone placed a bag over my head and tied my hands behind my back. Then, without saying a word, he forced me to walk what seemed a long ways. The more I struggled, the tighter his grip on my shoulder.”
She rubbed her shoulder, as if reliving the experience. Mitch’s hands fisted helplessly at his sides, but, sensing she needed to keep going, he didn’t say anything.
“He finally stopped and then pushed me to the ground. I struggled to get back on my feet, more afraid than I’d ever been in my whole life, wondering what would happen next. But nothing did. I couldn’t hear anyone, and because the sack was over my head, I couldn’t see anything, either. I finally realized he’d just abandoned me there. I stumbled around for a bit, then somehow managed to get that sack off.”
That was his girl, resourceful even when scared out of her wits.
“Whoever had tied me up was long gone. But I had no idea where I was. I didn’t have any choice but to start walking. After about twenty minutes, a stranger found me. At first I thought it was the person who’d tied me up and I started running from him. But he caught up with me and was very kind. Said he’d been out hunting when he spotted me. He untied me and helped me find my way back to town.”
She stopped, but he had a feeling there was more to the story, so he bided his time without responding. But it was very hard not to pull her into his arms then and there.
“We came out of the woods in a spot near the Lowells’ farm. They were having a barn raising and most of the town was there. It was late evening and folks were gathering up their things. I was so relieved to see familiar faces I almost sobbed.”
She paused for a long moment. “And just as we cleared the woods, the man who’d rescued me pulled me into a tight embrace and gave me a kiss, right on the lips. I could hear the gasps even from a distance.”
He wanted to gather her into his arms and give her what comfort he could. But not here in the open. He’d be doing her no favors if he did that.
“He finally stepped back,” she continued, “gave my cheek a pat, then turned and marched back into the woods, leaving me to face everyone alone. I knew I looked a sight—my dress was dirty and torn, my hair in wild disarray.” Her expression turned grimmer still. “And then I saw Lester, smirking at me, enjoying my disgrace. And I knew—deep in my heart, I knew—that he had planned the whole thing.”
She pushed the swing in motion again. “After that, my reputation was in shreds. Everyone believed the worst. I was shunned by most everyone in town.” She looked up at him. “So you see, there’s no need to worry about my ‘good name,’ because I haven’t had one in a very long time.”
Everything inside Mitch was wound tight enough to explode. He could barely breathe right now the need to avenge her was so strong. If the cowardly little weasel had been in Turnabout, there was no telling what he would have done. But right now he had Ivy’s feelings to consider. And he was more determined than ever to give her the protection of his name. “Perhaps that’s true in Nettles Gap, but not here.”
She smiled sadly. “I think the events of today paint a different story.”
“Not if you marry me. Even if it’s an in-name-only arrangement, if you move here you’ll have a fresh start and friends who will welcome you into their midst.”
She firmly shook her head. “That’s a very generous offer, especially given your feelings about getting married again.”
Was that what was holding her back? He should never have told her how he felt, even if he’d thought at the time he was protecting her.
Or maybe he’d just been trying to protect himself.
“Besides, once this case is resolved I’ll be headed back to Nettles Gap.”
“But you don’t have to—head back to Nettles Gap, I mean. Once the judge settles this case you’ll own land here. Why not move here where you can get a fresh start? Turnabout is a really good place for that.”
“I told you, Nana Dovie won’t leave home, and I won’t leave Nana Dovie.”
It seemed they were at an impasse. “Then at least marry me before you go. You can return to Nettles Gap as my wife. That should change your standing in the community.”
For a moment he thought she would agree, but then she shook her head. “Thank you, but I can’t.”
“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.”