and decide.”
His left brow rose. “Does this matter in Turnabout require your immediate attention?”
She waved dismissively. “That’s not it. This inheritance thing has waited more than twenty years so another day or two won’t make much difference.” She rubbed her cheek. “But Nana Dovie’s going to worry if she doesn’t hear from me soon. I promised to send her a telegram when I got to Turnabout so she’d know I’d arrived safely.”
He nodded. “I see.” Then he studied her a moment longer. “This Nana Dovie means a great deal to you. I can hear it in your voice when you speak of her.”
Ivy nodded. “She’s the only family I have,” she said simply.
“And how will she react to not having heard from you yet?”
“Nana Dovie’s not one to panic easily,” she said. “We discussed this trip before I left, and much as I’d hoped to make the trip in two days, we both knew it might take longer. But if she doesn’t hear from me by tomorrow, she’ll fear the worst.” Ivy hated the idea of putting the only mother she’d ever known through such needless worry.
“Don’t worry—we’ll send word as soon as we’re able.”
Ivy found it interesting that he’d said “we” and not “you.”
“There’s something else. Nana Dovie doesn’t leave the farm, ever, so she’ll have to wait until the reverend pays a visit to send an inquiry.”
She saw the flicker of speculation in his eyes at her statement, but he didn’t press. She was coming to appreciate his tact.
He stood and carried his dishes to the counter. “Then it’s best we plan to leave first thing in the morning.”
It wasn’t ideal, but perhaps Nana Dovie wouldn’t start imagining the worst before then. She followed him to the counter with her own dishes. “So you think Jubal will be ready for the trip by then?”
“We’ll get to town tomorrow, one way or the other.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Why don’t we wait and see what tomorrow brings?”
Was he being deliberately evasive?
Before she could ask for an explanation, he changed the subject. “Now, Miss Feagan, do you prefer to wash or dry?”
She grabbed a dishrag. “Wash.” She dunked a plate in the basin, which already contained fresh water. “And don’t you think, all things considered, there’s no need for you to continue to refer to me as Miss Feagan? The name’s Ivy.”
Predictably, he raised a brow. “All things considered, I think it best we stick to the formalities.”
She refused to back down. “Hogwash. You’ve bandaged me, bodily lifted me onto your horse, removed my shoes and stockings, practically tucked me in—you even did my laundry, for goodness’ sake. Standing on ceremony at this point is just silly.”
Mitch stiffened and she hid a grin. He probably didn’t get called silly very often.
He accepted the clean plate and rubbed it with extra vigor. “Miss Feagan, we’ll have enough speculation to deal with when we ride into town together from this all-but-forsaken backwoods. Any overfamiliarity we show with each other will just intensify that scrutiny.”
She sighed melodramatically. “I’ve never met such a fusspot before.” She’d deliberately used that word, knowing it would get his back up. And she was right.
She quickly spoke up again before he could protest further. “If you feel that strongly, why don’t we compromise? While we’re alone, we use first names. When we get to town, we get all formal and particular again. After all, I don’t expect to be in Turnabout more than a couple of days.”
He frowned but finally nodded stiffly. “Very well.”
She rewarded him with a broad smile as she handed him another plate. “Good to see you can unbend on occasion.”
That earned her a startled look and then the hint of a sheepish grin.
Five minutes later, Ivy patted Jubal’s side sympathetically as Mitch set the animal’s hoof down and brushed his hands against his pants. Unfortunately, she agreed with his assessment—Jubal was in no shape to make that trip today. She only hoped one more day would improve his condition enough to let them get underway again.
As they strolled back to the front of the cabin, she looked at the trail thoughtfully. “You did say there was a lake out that way, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Thinking about going fishing?”
She hesitated a moment. He was so straightlaced—would he think her indelicate if she told him what was on her mind?
Then again, he’d likely already figured out she wasn’t a prim and proper miss. And the urge to get clean was almost overwhelming.
She tilted her chin up. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate a chance to take a bath.”
He didn’t so much as blink. “Of course. Gather what you need and I’ll show you the way.”
Relieved that he hadn’t argued with her, she nodded and all but sprinted up the porch steps.
In addition to a change of clothes, she grabbed the borrowed nightdress and the sheets from the bed. Might as well do laundry while she was bathing.
When she stepped outside, she discovered Mitch had towels and a bar of soap. He also had his sketchpad.
That last gave her pause. “Just what is it you aim to do with that?”
“While you’re occupied at the lake, I thought I’d search out a spot to do some sketching.”
Of course. He was probably tired of playing nursemaid to her and was ready for some privacy of his own.
He insisted she hold his arm for steadying support as they walked down the trail. That and the slow pace he set had her rolling her eyes. Even Rufus didn’t stay beside them for long—within a few minutes he’d scampered ahead to explore on his own.
Ivy wasn’t used to being treated as if she were fragile and she’d never cottoned much to being mollycoddled. But she had to admit, at least to herself, that it wasn’t altogether unpleasant to have someone so concerned for her well-being.
In fact, it made her feel special.
When the trail finally opened to reveal the lake, her eyes widened, trying to take everything in at once. Everywhere she looked there was something to delight the eye. The sun glinted across the water like crystals from a chandelier. Colorful dragonflies darted here and there A pair of turtles sunned on a half-submerged log as a hawk skimmed the air high overhead.
She turned and touched his arm. “It’s perfect. And the water looks so inviting—I can’t wait to wade in.”
He glanced at her hand on his sleeve
