31

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” Evangeline’s belly clenched at the sight of the red welt on Logan’s right side. The doctor’s wife was smearing it with a healthy layer of salve.

The sneak had waited for her to leave to set up their lodging with Mrs. Clem before seeking out medical attention. On purpose, no doubt. Hiding his injury from her. Not wanting her to worry.

Well, if the two of them were going to share a future, they had to share their worries as well. Evangeline lifted her chin. If Mrs. Clem hadn’t already been in conversation with Miss Abingdon, the Sunday school teacher, Evangeline would probably still be at the parsonage, trapped by the talkative preacher’s wife. Completely unaware of her man’s injury. Unacceptable.

Logan twisted his head to look at her. “It’s just a scratch, Eva. Nothing to get worked up about.”

“Worked up?” Evangeline stomped closer. “Logan Fowler, you have yet to see me worked up.”

“I’ll, uh, let you two converse in private.” The doctor’s wife closed the salve tin, and with twitching lips and dancing eyes, exited the examination room.

Logan turned to face her as he lowered his shirt back into place. Slowly enough to make sure he didn’t bump that scratch. Slowly enough to give her a lovely view of strong muscles that carried not an inch of excess paunchiness.

“Look, Eva . . .” The shirt fabric fell into place, obscuring the last bit of exposed skin.

Oh, right. She was perturbed with him. She stiffened her spine and marched straight to the table where he perched. Muscled torso or not, she had a bone to pick.

“No more secrets.” She jabbed her finger into the hollow of his left shoulder. “Isn’t that what you said?”

He raised a wary brow. “Yes . . .”

“Well, that includes injuries and scrapes and scratches.” She jabbed him again, but he was ready for the attack this time and grabbed her finger.

She jerked backward, but he held tight, tugging her closer until only the thinnest sliver of air separated them. She drew in a breath, shrinking the buffer even further.

His gaze pinned her in place with a heat that made her toes tingle. Slowly, he released her finger and placed both hands at her waist. “I’m fine, Eva.” He was so close, so warm, so blessedly alive.

She ducked her head, suddenly shy. “I know. I just . . . I don’t want you to hide things from me.” She forced her attention back to his face. “Even little things.”

“Little things, huh?” He grinned at her. “Like the fact that I know your brother’s last name isn’t Hamilton, but Mitchell, and that he’s the son of one of the most famous riverboat gamblers of all time?”

Her heart pounded. “He told you?” Zach never shared that secret with anyone. She wouldn’t know it herself if she hadn’t quizzed him about the monogram on his card case a few years ago. Even then, all he’d given her was the name—Jedidiah Mitchell. It had been Seth who’d explained the significance.

“Yep. It came up when I refused to play cards with him.”

Everything in her stilled. “You . . . refused?” Hope fluttered so fiercely in her belly, her knees took to trembling.

Thankfully, Logan held on tight—steadying her, supporting her. His lips curved into a self-deprecating grin. “Let’s just say the Good Lord got my attention and jabbed my conscience with a red-hot poker.”

Evangeline tried unsuccessfully to subdue a smile. “Sounds painful.”

“Yep. But effective.” He lifted a hand from her waist and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You were right, Eva. About all of it. In fact, once we get everyone settled tonight, I’m going to write my mother a long letter to explain my change of heart and ask what I can do to help her. I’ll throw a few apologies in there . . . tell her about you.”

Heat flooded Evangeline’s cheeks. She glanced away. “Me?”

He cupped her face and gently tilted her eyes up to meet his. “When a man meets the girl he wants to spend the rest of his life with, his mama needs to know about it, don’t you think?” The intensity of his regard stole her breath.

Just that morning, she’d believed she’d lost him forever. She’d grieved, prayed, then set her mind to fixing things, but it seemed there was nothing left to fix. God in his goodness had done the mending for her, responding to her petitions with a swiftness she’d never experienced. It left her a mite dizzy, truth be told.

“Do you mean it?” Her whispered words were barely audible, but it was the best she could manage with a blanket of awe mummifying her.

Logan smiled with such sweetness, she swore she could taste the sugar on her own tongue. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” he asked.

She nodded. “With all my heart.”

His smile brightened, his gray eyes twinkling like polished silver. “Then that settles it,” he announced with a slap to his thigh. “Time to hang up my gambling boots, finish our cabin, and get to work making a more reputable living. I was thinking cattle. Or we could clear the land and try our hand at cotton. What do you think?”

Our cabin. It was as if he had peeked inside her heart, seen her dreams, and then set himself the task of making them all come true.

“I might even shave off this hairy mess,” he said, since she hadn’t yet found the wherewithal to string any intelligible words together. He rubbed the beard that camouflaged the bottom of his face. “It gets mighty itchy in the summer.” He made a comically pained expression. “And since I don’t have to intimidate saloon folk anymore, I don’t really need it.”

Finding her balance—and a touch of boldness—Evangeline projected a ponderous mien as she took hold of his face and turned it from side to side. “Hmm. I suppose kissing would be easier without all this scruff in the way.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Tonight.” He sat up straighter on the examination table. “I’ll shave it off tonight.”

She laughed softly, then leaned in and touched her lips to his. Not a deep kiss, just a light touch, a promise of love and belonging. Her lashes flickered closed as she savored the soft joining. Drawing back slightly, she ended the kiss but lingered nearby. Her lips hovered above his, almost touching. The memory of the kiss was so vivid, it was as if they were touching. Her breath mixed with his. Her pulse thrummed.

Then the door opened.

Dropping her hands from Logan’s face, Evangeline lurched backward. Logan didn’t let her go far, however, keeping hold of her with the one hand still at her waist.

“If you’re done mauling my sister,” Zach said, his scowl firmly in place, though his words didn’t carry their usual heat, “we got some plans to work out.”

Logan waggled his eyebrows. “I believe your sister was the one doing the mauling. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Logan!” she scolded under her breath, mortified.

Zach grunted. “If you and that scratch of yours can walk, we’re supposed to meet Seth and Christie at the parsonage.”

Logan stretched his long legs down from the examination table and gained his feet. His gray eyes lost their teasing light. “We’ll be right there.”

Zach nodded once, then pivoted and left the room with the same abruptness with which he’d arrived.

Logan held out his hand to her, and she clasped it. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Because as much as she wanted to bask in her love for this man and revel in happy dreams of their future together, she couldn’t ignore the danger that threatened both him and the young woman they’d rescued.

Dreams would keep. Reality wouldn’t.

When darkness finally fell that night, Evangeline climbed beneath the covers next to Christie in Charlotte Clem’s guest room, fully expecting to fall unconscious the moment her head hit the pillow. This had to have been the longest day of her life. Her heart felt like it had been thrown around like a child on a twenty-foot seesaw—exhilarating highs followed by crashing lows, only to repeat with new joys and terrifying fears. It left her light-headed, off-balance, and a tiny bit nauseated.

Evangeline rolled onto her side and drew her knees up to her belly, breathing through her nose to help her stomach settle. She should be deliriously happy after Logan’s change of heart and declaration of intentions—this very moment he could be writing about her to his mother!—but the uncertainty of what lay in store for them over the next few days ate away at her serenity.

“Do you think their plan will work?”

It seemed she wasn’t the only one unsettled.

Evangeline stretched an arm across the bedside table, turned up the lamp, then rolled over to face Christie. “Having second thoughts?”

The girl nibbled her bottom lip. “Yes,” she finally admitted, “but not about trying to find the ledgers. Mr. Benson’s trip to Cooper offers the best opportunity to search the schoolhouse. I just wish Seth wasn’t the one doing the searching.”

“Well, it’s less dangerous than tracking Benson’s movements in Cooper.” The queasiness in Evangeline’s stomach intensified. “Benson has never seen Zach, so that gives him a layer of anonymity, but Logan? They’ve been face-to-face. Even if Logan shaves and alters his clothing with the items he borrowed from Seth, there’s no hiding that scar on his face. If Benson gets a glimpse of that, he’ll recognize Logan at once. The snake already took a handful of shots at him on the road today. I don’t want to tempt a repeat performance.”

Christie’s face tightened. “So our men risk their lives while we hide away.”

Evangeline reached for her friend’s hand. “I know,” she said as she squeezed Christie’s fingers. “I hate it, too. But you’re Benson’s main target. We have to keep you out of play until the men get him backed into a corner. Once we have the evidence we need, you can testify before the judge and put Benson away for good. Until then, we wait.”

Christie tugged her hand free of Evangeline’s hold. “I’m tired of waiting.” She pushed up on one arm, her features fierce in the shadowy lamplight. “I’m tired of everyone trying to protect me. My mother, passing me off as an imbecile. Seth hiding me away when I should be helping.”

Her hand balled into a fist and smacked the mattress between them. “When that bullet hit me today, it brought several things into sharp focus. I haven’t been living, I’ve been surviving. And I refuse to be a victim anymore. Hiding my deafness. Hiding my location. Hiding my feelings.” Her eyes sizzled with green fire. “I care about your brother, Evie. A lot. And I intend to stand by his side, even in danger. He shouldn’t be at that schoolhouse alone. If someone comes along and catches him digging through school property, he’ll be arrested. Or worse, he’ll become Benson’s next target.

“I brought this trouble upon your family, and I’m not going to hide away while Logan and your brothers fight my battles for me. Stay here if you like, but I’m going to Ben Franklin tomorrow. I’m going to stand watch and do all I can to ensure Seth’s safety.” She drew in a breath, her voice wavering slightly. “And that’s not all.”

What more could there be?

“Since I don’t have to worry about facing the consequences of Earl’s anger anymore, it’s time I quit dawdling and go after my stepfather’s ledger. With deliveries on Sunday, he’ll be out at the still all day tomorrow. I know where he keeps the lockbox under his bed. I’ll break it open somehow—take the wood ax to it if I have to.”

Good heavens, Christie was turning into a veritable warrior.

Evangeline glanced down at the sheet and pressed her lips together. Far be it from her to quench a fellow female’s fire, but . . . “Perhaps we shouldn’t tackle this all at once.” She held Christie’s eyes. “Let’s deal with Benson first, then we can go after your brother.” Seth would never allow Christie to help. Not when her life was in danger. Better to temper her expectations now than have them trampled tomorrow. “Seth promised to help you find your brother, remember? He won’t go back on his word. You just have to be patient.”

“But Archie could be suffering!” Tears sprang to Christie’s eyes. “I could have died today, and no one would have been left to protect him, to care for him. What if the worst happens, and our plans tomorrow fail? What if—?” Her voice choked a little. “What if Benson manages to kill me? What happens to Archie then?”

Evangeline swallowed, her own throat growing thick with the threat of tears.

Was that what had gone through Hamilton’s mind while he lay dying on the floor of that derailed train so many years ago? Had he known Zach would take care of his little sister, or had he spent his last moments fretting over Evangeline’s future?

“He needs me, Eva.” Christie’s voice softened to a near whisper. “If he was your brother, what would you do?”