Lone Star Heiress. Winnie Griggs
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      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 her leg over.

      “How are you feeling?”

      Was he concerned for her or just for the trouble her passing out would cause?

      She’d felt dizzy for a moment, but that had settled into a merely foggy sensation. “I’m fine.” Then she frowned. “How are you planning to travel?” Would he try to climb up behind her? How did she feel about that?

      “As I said, it’s not far. I’ll walk.”

      He turned the horse and led it toward Jubal, but his gaze rarely left her. It was disconcerting to be the focus of those very direct brown eyes. He quickly tied Jubal’s lead to his horse’s saddle then moved to her left. She noticed Jubal only carried a saddle, and realized he’d loaded her things onto his own horse. It was more kindness for her animal than she’d expected.

      “Still doing okay?” he asked.

      She forced a smile. “I’m ready when you are.”

      “I’ll be right here at your side. If you start feeling the least bit faint, let me know. Better to delay us than to risk your falling over.”

      She nodded and he patted the horse’s side and clicked his tongue to set the animal in motion.

      As they headed down the road, Ivy smiled drowsily at the thought of what an odd procession they made. She was in the lead on his horse, he walked on her left, Jubal followed on the right and Rufus alternately led and padded alongside.

      The pounding in her head was amplified with each step the horse took, but she was determined not to worry her self-appointed caretaker more than necessary. She would remain conscious and she would stay in this saddle until they reached this cabin of his.

      Because the alternative wasn’t only dangerous and inconvenient.

      It would also be altogether mortifying.

      Chapter Three

      Mitch kept a close eye on his injured charge as they traveled back to the cabin. He hadn’t been fooled by her assurances that she was okay. He’d seen the tremble in her hands, the glaze of pain in her eyes, and the way she fought to maintain focus. The sooner he got her to the cabin, the better. But jarring her too much wouldn’t do, either. He only hoped she had enough sense to let him know if she needed to stop.

      The trip, which had taken only twenty minutes on his way out, took nearly an hour on the return. He paused their little caravan a few times to give her a rest from the jarring movements and make her drink some water, but otherwise he kept them moving at a slow, steady pace. At least there was no sign of fresh blood seeping from underneath her bandage. Perhaps the worst really was over.

      Throughout that endless trip he tried to keep her talking, to make certain she was both conscious and aware. Fortunately, talking seemed to be something she enjoyed. Not that they had a coherent conversation. She mostly rambled and his contribution was limited to an occasional question whenever the pauses drew out.

      Mitch learned she came from a small town called Nettles Gap and that she lived with someone she called Nana Dovie. He also learned the life history of her dog and her mule, and what great companions they’d been on this trip.

      She continued to assure him she was all right whenever he inquired, but by the time he called for the third rest stop he could see she was starting to droop. So when the cabin finally came into view he wanted to shout, “Hallelujah.”

      “Almost there,” he said bracingly.

      She straightened and he could almost see her gather her strength as she squinted ahead.

      He directed Seeley right up to the front porch before he called a halt. “Now you’re going to have to let go of the saddle horn and slide right down into my arms. Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”

      To his surprise, she displayed none of the suspicion she’d exhibited earlier. Perhaps it was because she was exhausted and hurting, but he hoped it was at least partly because she had begun to trust him.

      A moment later, she’d half slid, half fallen into his grasp. And for the second time he thought how nice she felt in his arms, how he wanted to protect her from harm.

      “If you’ll set me down, I can walk from here.”

      He ignored her and headed up the steps. She didn’t argue further, which in and of itself worried him. After a bit of tricky one-handed maneuvering, he got the door open without jostling her too badly, then carried her inside and set her on the sofa.

      “I’m going to check your bandage. It won’t take but a minute, then you can lie down.”

      Without a word, she slumped against the cushion and closed her eyes.

      He watched her a moment. She looked so vulnerable, so achingly brave as she tried to hold herself together. His hand moved to brush a lock of hair from her forehead, then stopped just short of its goal. His hand slowly withdrew, as if it had a mind and conscience of its own.

      This burgeoning awareness of her as more than a person in need of aid was dangerous and had to be smothered before it could go any further.

      He turned and moved to the counter, ready to put some distance between them.

      * * *

      Ivy focused on remaining conscious, at least conscious enough to not fall over. She didn’t want to get blood and dirt all over his furniture. There were probably all sorts of other things she should be worried about, but for now the only thing getting through her foggy mind was the longing for the promised bed and the chance to sleep undisturbed.

      She didn’t realize Rufus had followed them inside until he nudged her leg with a worried whine. She placed a hand on the dog’s head without opening her eyes. “I’m okay, boy. Just need to rest for a bit.”

      Sometime later—she wasn’t sure how long—Mr. Parker returned. “Now, let’s have a look.” She felt the tug as he removed the cloth pad that had stuck to the blood.

      “How does it look?” СКАЧАТЬ