He only hoped she could sit in the saddle long enough to get that far.
“Thank you,” she said, her suspicion obvious, “but that’s not necessary. Once I rest a bit I’ll be able to get on with my journey.”
He knew bluster when he heard it. But he tried to navigate around her caution carefully. “Nevertheless, I’m responsible for your fall and the least I can do is share my shelter and my food with you.”
She appeared to be wavering. Hoping to tip the scale in his favor, Mitch retrieved her knife.
She tensed as apprehension flared in her eyes.
He quickly held the knife out to her, hilt first. “You can hold on to this if it makes you more comfortable.”
He only hoped she didn’t decide to skewer him with it.
* * *
Ivy accepted the knife, wondering just how much she could trust this stranger. His size was certainly worrisome—he wasn’t just taller than Goliath. He also had the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen.
Still, he’d been nothing but kind and helpful. Surely if he’d meant to harm her he’d have done so by now. And despite what she’d said, her inability to stop shaking or keep her thoughts focused was worrisome. Perhaps a hot meal and a dry place to rest would cure that. “I suppose I can rest at your cabin as well as I can here. But just for a little while.”
He smiled approvingly and she decided he looked much less intimidating when he smiled. In fact, you might say he looked downright handsome, in a bigger-than-life kind of way. It was mighty tempting to let go of her worries and let this man handle them. And right now she was having trouble remembering why she shouldn’t.
“Good.” He nodded to his left. “I’d like to move you to that tree over there so you have something to lean against while I gather your things.”
Move her? She wasn’t sure she could stand and make it more than a couple of steps right now, even if he helped her.
But before she could respond, he gave her a stern look. “You appear none too steady and I wouldn’t want to have to deal with you falling again.”
She could see where he might feel that way, and to be honest, he had good reason. But she had a better idea. “I’ll just lean against Rufus instead.” She gingerly rearranged herself to demonstrate. And loyal Rufus allowed her to prop herself against him, just as she’d known he would.
She wished he would just get on with gathering her things so she could close her eyes and relax for a minute or two. But she had the nagging feeling she’d forgotten something important.
He studied her a moment, then stood. “I’ll only be a few minutes and then we’ll be on our way.”
As soon as he turned away, she closed her eyes. Then she suddenly remembered what it was she needed to tell him and her heavy eyelids lifted reluctantly. “Mr. Parker.”
He turned and took a step back toward her. “Yes? Is something wrong?”
“It’s about Jubal. You should know, he turned up lame yesterday. It’s why we’re camped here.” She hoped he’d show Jubal the same kindness he’d shown her.
His expression tightened, but he nodded and continued on his way.
Ivy watched as he made quick work of collecting her few items. For a big man, he moved with surprising grace.
She closed her eyes again. Sometime later she heard Mr. Parker talking, though she couldn’t quite make out the words. His tone was soothing and a bit distant.
Prying her eyes open, she watched him approach Jubal. The mule eyed him suspiciously, ears flicking forward. Gradually, though, the animal relaxed, and by the time Mr. Parker attempted to stroke his nose, Jubal seemed ready to eat from his hand.
Satisfied, Ivy let her lids fall shut again.
“Miss Feagan.”
The voice seemed much closer this time and when she opened her eyes he stood over her, a worried look on his face. His horse stood just behind him.
“I’m okay,” she assured him. “Just resting my eyes.”
If anything, the concern in his expression deepened. “This is Seeley. He’s a well-behaved horse with an easy gait. I know you’re probably not feeling up to a ride, but the cabin isn’t far and I don’t know of any better way to get you there.”
She tried to focus on the animal. He was big—probably had to be to carry such a rider. But how did the man expect her to mount? “I can ride, but getting into the saddle might be tricky.”
His lips quirked up at that but he nodded solemnly. “I think we’ll be able to work that out.” He offered his hand. “Do you think you can stand for just a moment if I help?”
“Of course.” At least she hoped so.
He placed his hand under her elbow and gently guided her into a shaky standing position. Unfortunately, her legs felt more like limp rope than bone and muscle. If he hadn’t been supporting her she probably would have toppled over. Still, if she could get a good grip on the saddle and he formed a stirrup with his hands, she might be able to—
Before she could complete the thought, he’d scooped her up in his arms.
Caught by surprise, her arms reflexively slid around his neck. “What in blue blazes do you think you’re doing?” The man, for all his well-meaning kindness, was much too high-handed for her liking.
He hefted her, pulling her unsettlingly closer against his chest. “I’m helping you into the saddle.”
The ease with which he lifted and held her was impressive. She wasn’t a petite woman, but he made her feel almost dainty. And the sensation of being held in such a way was unnerving. Though, strangely, she felt completely safe.
He looked down at her uncertainly. “It would be best if you rode astride rather than sidesaddle.”
Ivy shrugged, or at least what passed for a shrug in her current position. She shook off her irritation at the same time. This was merely an expedient way of getting her on the horse, nothing more personal. “It’s my preferred method of riding, anyway.”
He stared into her eyes, and she felt the full power of his gaze. He seemed to be gauging her strength and her resolve. Would he find her wanting?
As she stared back, the flecks of gold in his deep brown eyes drew her in with surprising intensity.
She finally blinked and the connection—if it had ever been there—disappeared.
He cleared his throat. “Once I get you up there, do you think you can keep your seat?”
“Of course.” She’d have to, wouldn’t she?
Was he really planning to lift her bodily into the saddle?
As if in answer to her question, he did exactly that. Mr. Parker kept a supportive hand at her waist until she’d grasped the saddle horn and swung
