Lone Star Heiress. Winnie Griggs

“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 and she quickly removed it, embarrassed by her impulsive gesture.

      But his expression didn’t change. “Then I’ll leave you to it. And don’t worry. It’s not deep on this end, and it’s entirely private.” He took a step back. “I’ll be up the trail just a little ways, close enough to hear if you call. Take whatever time you need.”

      Ivy watched him until he rounded a turn. Then she began unbraiding her hair. If she had to be stuck somewhere while Jubal healed, this was not a bad place to be.

      And the company was quite nice, as well.

      In fact, if she weren’t in such a hurry to get back and check on Nana Dovie, she wouldn’t mind the delay at all.

      * * *

      Mitch found a comfortable spot and settled on the ground with his back against a tree. He heard her break out in song and smiled at her slightly off-key but enthusiastic rendition of “Shall We Gather at the River?” as he opened his sketchbook.

      Even injured, she was the most attack-life-head-on woman he’d ever met. Now that she was feeling better, she was definitely a force to be reckoned with. It was exhausting just being around her.

      And strangely exhilarating, as well.

      Did she really think him a fusspot? He wasn’t exactly certain what that was, but it definitely didn’t sound flattering. He had to admit, if only to himself, that it had been her name-calling that had made him give in on the subject of using first names. Was he so easily manipulated?

      But the smile she’d given him when he capitulated had seemed strangely compelling. It had been quite some time since anyone had looked at him with such unabashed approval.

      Shaking off the thought, Mitch took up his pencil and waited for inspiration. Normally he had no trouble finding a subject, but for some reason today was different. He finally settled on the image of the turtles sunning down by the lake.

      Forty-five minutes later, Mitch looked up to see Ivy approaching. Her still-damp hair was loosely braided and she carried a load of wet laundry. The smile on her face reflected satisfaction and her eyes sparkled.

      Her pleasure was infectious.

      Closing his sketchbook, he stood and moved to meet her.

      “Sorry I took so long,” she said, “but the water felt absolutely wonderful and I didn’t want to get out.” She nodded toward his sketchbook. “Did you get any drawing done?”

      “I did.” He set his pad and pencil down. “Here, let’s swap. I’ll take those wet things from you and you take my sketch pad.”

      To his surprise, she didn’t argue, but merely said thank you as she surrendered her load of soggy laundry.

      Then he discovered why. As soon as she retrieved his pad, she opened it and studied the image inside. “It’s beautiful. You have such a wonderful God-given talent.”

      Ivy certainly had a way about her.

      “I see why you like coming here,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “It’s such a marvelous place.”

      “It’s only my second visit, but I’m enjoying this visit more than the first.” He was definitely enjoying the company more than he had that first time.

      She gave him a questioning look. Then her gaze sharpened. “Aren’t those blackberries?”

      Mitch followed the line of her gaze. “What do you know, a few end-of-season stragglers.”

      She was already moving toward the brambly vines, and before he could so much as blink, she had popped one in her mouth. She closed her eyes and tilted her chin up. “Mmm.”

      He watched, captivated by her expression of pure bliss. He couldn’t have moved if his boots were on fire.

      She opened her eyes again.

      “You should try some of these. They’re really good.” Then she looked contrite. “Oh, your hands are full. Allow me.”

      She plucked a couple of berries and held them up to him. Without a word, he opened his mouth. Their eyes locked and she froze with her hand inches from his lips. Her eyes widened and her breath hitched. They were so close, he could count the freckles on her nose if he tried. He knew he should step back, but for the life of him he couldn’t do it. But closer,