Winnie Griggs - Lone Star Heiress

“Rest is the best medicine at times like this.”

As he helped her settle the tray onto her lap, she inhaled appreciatively. “Smells good.”

He gave a small smile. “Only because you’re hungry. I don’t usually cook for anyone but myself and I make no claims that it’s more than passable.”

“I’m sure you’re being too hard on yourself.” She picked up the spoon, then frowned when he pulled up a chair. “Aren’t you going to eat something, too?”

“I ate earlier. I’ll get more later.” He settled back in the chair. “I thought I’d keep you company, if that’s okay?”

What was he up to?

Then she took herself to task. She had to stop being so suspicious of menfolk—not everyone was a mean-spirited polecat like Lester Stokes. Mr. Parker was nice and seemed to expect nothing in return. He probably just wanted to make sure she didn’t faint into her bowl while she ate.

She tasted a spoonful, then smiled. “As I suspected, this is a good sight better than merely passable.”

He spread his hands as if to dispute her words but didn’t say anything.

Feeling the need to fill the silence, she asked after her mule. “How’s Jubal doing after that long walk here?”

“He’s had some feed and water, and now he and Seeley are grazing.” He met her gaze squarely. “As for the hoof, I think you were right about the stone bruise. I let him soak it in warm water to try to draw out the infection, but he’s going to need a couple days’ rest, I’m afraid.”

Poor Jubal—she hoped she hadn’t done him permanent harm. But this also meant more delays. Nana Dovie would be worried if she didn’t hear something from her soon. But that wasn’t Mr. Parker’s fault. “It was real nice of you to be looking out for him. And me, too, of course.”

“And how are you feeling now that you’ve had something to eat?”

The way he looked at her one would think he actually cared about her, not just the trouble she was causing. “Much better.” She deposited her spoon in the now empty bowl. “That nap and this meal have fixed me right up.” No need to burden him with her aching head and shaky feeling.

But Mr. Parker didn’t look convinced. “You shouldn’t attempt anything that requires effort today. You need to give yourself time to heal.”

Be that as it may, Ivy certainly didn’t intend to spend what was left of the day in bed.

“Mind if I ask how you came to be out here alone?” he asked.

She took a sip from her glass, trying to decide how much to tell him. She wasn’t much on sharing her personal business with strangers, even kind-hearted ones. “I’ve got business to take care of over in Turnabout. And this shortcut seemed the fastest way to get there.”

“You said you were from somewhere called Nettles Gap? How far away is that?”

“Don’t know how many miles, exactly, but I set out at sunup the day before yesterday.”

He stiffened. “Two days alone on the road.”

It was nice of him to be concerned, but she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. “I wasn’t really alone,” she said, trying to reassure him. “I had Rufus and Jubal with me. And I took precautions.”

But his frown deepened. “By precautions I assume you mean that getup you were wearing and that knife you pulled out of your pocket.”

He made it sound as if her efforts had been ineffective at best.

“And a dog and mule are hardly adequate escorts for a young lady. Wasn’t your family at all concerned 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...