Epilogue

March 1895

Evangeline held out her left hand to admire the new gold band residing on her third finger for what must have been the tenth time since Logan had placed it there an hour earlier. Mrs. Logan Fowler. Had there ever been a name so fine? For all the years she’d lived with a borrowed name, being gifted with a new one that bound her to a man who made her heart turn giddy little flips every time he smiled at her was a blessing that still hadn’t fully sunk in to her brain.

Surely, Hamilton would approve. When Zach and Seth had both walked her down the aisle of the Pecan Gap church, she’d held her head high, making no effort to hide her eyes from the townsfolk. Hamilton had been right all those years ago. Her eyes were a gift from her parents, a way to remember them, and on her wedding day, she’d wanted all three of them near—Mama, Papa, and Hamilton. So she’d lifted her chin and marched forward on her brothers’ arms, feeling all of her family surrounding her, bestowing their blessings and wishing her joy.

When she’d reached the front of the church and taken Logan’s hand, his face alight with pride and love as he beheld his bride, she knew she’d never hide her eyes again. No doubt some people would still see her as an aberration instead of one of the Creator’s more unique designs, but the small-mindedness of a few would no longer blanket her in shame. Not when her husband looked at her as if she were his every dream come to life.

“It’s not going to get any shinier, you know.” Christie’s teasing voice brought a happy blush to Evangeline’s cheeks as her sister-in-law entered the bedroom that Evangeline was vacating after nearly eight years.

She kept her arm aloft, looking up from the symbol of love on her finger only long enough to ensure the shape of her lips would be visible. “How long does it take for the wonder to wear off?”

Christie shrugged, lifted her left hand, and admired the ring on her own finger. “I don’t know. Hasn’t happened for me yet.”

They laughed as Christie retrieved the small valise Evangeline had returned to fetch before she’d been caught up in the nostalgia of saying good-bye to her childhood and starting a new life as a married woman.

“Are you sad to leave?” Christie asked.

Evangeline shook her head, unable to stop a silly grin from overtaking her face as she thought about moving into the cabin Logan had crafted. “No. Especially since I know I can come visit any time I like.”

“Of course. This will always be your home,” Christie assured her.

“I’ll always be welcome,” Evangeline corrected, “but this is your home now. Yours and Seth’s and Archie’s.”

Christie and Seth had married last Christmas. Zach had moved into the barn’s tack room to give them the largest bedchamber, where Archie had slept on a miniature bed in the corner. Not exactly conducive to a newlywed couple’s privacy. Seth had been more than eager to help Evangeline pack up her things last night, and if the box in the hall was any indication, he already had Archie’s belongings ready to move into her space the moment she left.

He loved that boy, though, and Archie adored him. The little fellow followed Seth everywhere, especially down to the river. The fish stories those two could tell. They’d be catching whales by Easter.

“Mrs. Fowler,” a deep voice boomed, “your husband is growing impatient.”

Tiny pinpricks of excitement danced over Evangeline’s neck at Logan’s call. Heaven knew they’d both been growing impatient over the last few weeks. When he’d first asked her to give him six months to prove himself, she’d wanted to refuse. He hadn’t needed to prove anything to her, after all, not since the moment he’d sacrificed his vengeance to make peace with her brother. Yet she’d sensed that he needed to prove something to himself, so she agreed to his terms, and the waiting period brought its own blessings. They’d developed a deep, soul-binding friendship that anchored their love in something more stable than mercurial passion. That friendship enriched her love for Logan and gave her confidence in the joy they would surely experience in the years to come.

Evangeline’s thoughts must have shown on her face, for Christie grinned and gave her a little push toward the door. “Better not keep him waiting.”

Evangeline looked over her shoulder. “How did you know?”

Christie laughed. “Who do you think sent me in here after you?”

“Mrs. Fowler,” a different male voice called, “please inform Mrs. Jefferson that her husband grows equally impatient.”

Evangeline smirked. “It seems Seth is eager to have his wife by his side as well.”

Christie’s cheeks turned pink, and Evangeline grinned.

Seth had reverted to his given surname at his marriage—Jefferson. Though all of their documents were signed with both last names, making Hamilton just as legal as Jefferson, Seth wished to pass on the name of his father to his own children someday. Perhaps even to Archie, should the boy wish it. He and Christie had decided to let him choose for himself which name he wished to carry once he was older.

“That man.” Christie made a shooing motion with her hand even as her green eyes glowed with unfettered happiness. “I’ve only been gone for two minutes. You’d think it was our wedding night approaching, not yours.”

With how quickly Seth had implemented the switch in sleeping arrangements, Evangeline imagined that was precisely what her brother was thinking. The faster he could send Evangeline and Logan on to their own cabin, the faster he could rid the homestead of the wedding guests and have the place to himself. She was pretty sure she’d overheard him scheming to have Uncle Zach invite Archie to camp out in the barn with him tonight, too.

Before Evangeline could tease her sister-in-law about that, though, the impatient men stormed the castle. Logan tossed the door wider than it already stood, strode in, and snatched Evangeline completely off her feet. She shrieked, then laughed and kicked her legs in weak protest.

“Come on, woman.” The mock sternness of his face only increased her giggles. “We have a threshold to cross.”

Evangeline wrapped her arms around his neck as he swished her sideways to allow Seth entrance. “Do you plan to carry me all the way to the cabin?”

Logan met her gaze, a roguish grin lighting his eyes. “Nope, just to the wagon. For now.” He waggled his brows. “Once we get home, though, I plan to sweep you up again and not let you out of my arms until sometime tomorrow.”

“Logan!” Evangeline swatted his shoulder as her cheeks burned, not that the scoundrel cared.

In fact, her unrepentant husband dipped his chin and captured her lips in a kiss that stole every thought of protest from her mind. By the time he finally pulled away, her fingers were thoroughly entangled in the hair at his nape, and her breathing had become embarrassingly ragged. The only thing that saved her from complete mortification was the fact that Seth was currently giving Christie the same treatment.

Her brother tugged her satchel from Christie’s limp fingers and pushed it into the hand Logan had positioned beneath Evangeline’s knees. Once the transfer was complete, Logan marched straight for the back door and out onto the porch.

A chorus of hoots, hollers, and whistles erupted. Evangeline hid her face against Logan’s neck.

“Logan Everett Fowler,” a cultured feminine voice scolded, “that’s the future mother of my grandchildren you’re manhandling.”

“I’ve got a good hold on her, Mama,” Logan called, removing any hope that he’d allow Evangeline to walk on her own two feet to the wagon. Then his clean-shaven jaw nudged her face up so he could look into her eyes. “And I’m never letting her go.”

Her insides swirled and dipped like a ballroom full of waltzing troubadours. She no longer cared that they were making a spectacle for her neighbors and friends. All she cared about was the man she adored.

“I love you, Logan Fowler,” she whispered for his ears alone.

His crooked smile made her pulse flutter. “I love you, Evangeline Pearson Hamilton Fowler. Forever.”

He carried her down the porch steps, and everyone surrounded them to give their final well wishes as they made their way to the wagon. When they reached Logan’s mother, though, he paused and bent down with Evangeline still in his arms to allow the small gray-haired woman with dancing eyes to kiss his cheek.

The change in Logan’s mother had been remarkable. She had gone from a withdrawn, hopeless widow to a vibrant woman of renewed purpose and vitality. According to Logan’s aunt, the change had started the day she received Logan’s letter and solidified the first time Logan had introduced her to Evangeline.

It turned out her grief had not solely been due to the loss of her husband and home. The most acute portion had been reserved for the son she believed had followed his father’s disastrous path. Once Logan convinced her he’d left that life behind, her sprits revived, and the baby blankets she had once knitted for the poor box were now piling up in a chest for the grandbabies she hoped would soon follow the wedding.

Evangeline reached a hand toward her mother-in-law. “Will you be all right, Mother? You know you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you like.”

“Nonsense, dear. I’ll not be getting in the way of those grandbabies you promised me.”

Heavens. Even Logan’s mother? Evangeline doubted her cheeks would ever recover. They’d surely be stained bright red permanently.

Mrs. Fowler had avoided going inside any of the buildings of her former home. Not the house, nor the barn. The closest she’d come was to pat the trunks of the peach trees near the porch. She’d been staying with Logan until today and had accepted the Clems’ hospitality for a final night before she left for her sister’s house on the morrow.

“I’ll expect letters, though.” Mrs. Fowler’s eyes narrowed. “Detailed letters. Regularly.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Matilda Fowler turned her attention back to her son. “Go on, now.” She released Evangeline’s hand with a grin and waved them on. “Take your bride home.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Logan’s long legs ate up the ground between the crowd and the waiting wagon.

Zach had the team hitched and waiting, and after Logan gently dropped Evangeline onto the bench seat, her brother approached. Logan moved to the horses’ heads, checking harness Evangeline knew was perfectly in place.

A frown crinkling her brow, she turned to question her brother, only to find Zach’s eyes tinged not with joy or teasing, but with something far heavier.

She reached a hand out to him. “What is it?”

He took her hand, looking down at their joined fingers. “I’m leaving Pecan Gap, Evie.”

She reared back, heart thudding in alarm. “What? Why?”

“Logan’s responsible for your welfare now. Seth’s settled with Christie. You don’t need me watching out for you anymore. It’s time for me to set out on my own.”

She tugged on his arm, trying to draw him closer, but his feet remained stubbornly rooted to the ground. “You’re my brother, Zach. I’ll always need you.”

He finally lifted his eyes. “We’re not kids, Evie. You and Seth have found the lives you’ve always wanted. Now it’s time for me to do the same.” His mouth twisted into a smile she didn’t quite believe. “With Seth raising hogs now instead of crops, he can manage without me.” He gazed over at the muddy pens where snorting hogs rooted around in the same ground that once supported sorghum stalks. “I hate farming, Evie. You know that. Crops, hogs, doesn’t matter what kind. There’s a fellow up north with a lumberyard who’s looking for a partner to expand his operation. I’m meeting with him on Monday.”

Dismay churned her belly. “So soon?”

“It’s time.”

Time for him to finally have the freedom he’d always craved. She remembered the tough kid with the chip on his shoulder who scared off all potential adoptive families so that he could create his own life instead of having one forced upon him. Yet one had been forced upon him anyhow. A life of instant parenthood, making him responsible for two orphans who depended on him for everything. A life that brought him back to the land, a living he despised, yet one he willingly took on to provide for his siblings.

It would be unfair of her to hold him back just because she would miss him. He deserved his chance at happiness, even if it meant she must revise her definition of happily ever after.

He was right. It was time.

“Promise me something?” she said.

Zach raised a brow, immediately suspicious. “What?”

“Don’t cut yourself off from us.” Evangeline squeezed his hand with all the pent-up grief and love this conversation inspired. “We’re still your family. Always and forever. Follow your dream, Zach—heaven knows you deserve it—but share it with us. Write to us. Visit. Keep us involved. I’ve already lost one brother. I couldn’t bear to lose another.”

Zach cleared his throat and returned the tight grip on her hand. “I promise.”

His low rasp brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked them away. Zach had never handled her softer emotions well.

“Then go with God, brother, and may he bless you as richly as he has me.”

Zach gave a quick nod, then dropped her hand and stepped away from the wagon. As if the signal had been prearranged, Logan abandoned the horses and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Take good care of her, Fowler,” Zach said.

Logan nodded. “I will.”

Zach saluted with a touch to his hat brim, and Logan released the brake. The team plodded forward as the crowd behind them cheered.

Evangeline turned to wave, her smile bright until her gaze found Zach. To him she sent silent vows of support and encouragement. He might not be the heroic figure she’d once believed him to be, his knightly armor dented and tarnished from past mistakes and lingering repercussions, but he was her brother, and she loved him unequivocally.

Gradually, the house, her friends and family, and her worries for her brother faded from view, leaving her alone with her husband.

Logan covered her knee with his hand. “You all right? Zach told me about his plans this morning before the wedding.”

She clasped his fingers. “I will be.” She looked down the road as if looking into the future. “I’ll miss him terribly, but he deserves his freedom.”

“A man’s plans don’t always work out the way he expects.” Logan’s smile instantly reminded her of all they had gone through to get to where they were today. “Sometimes God throws a fork in the road at just the right time.”

She grinned at her husband. “I just hope that stubborn brother of mine will be smart enough to see the road sign and follow it. He can be a mite set in his ways.”

Logan caressed the outside of her knee with his thumb, and Evangeline’s pulse stuttered. “If the Lord sends your brother a road sign even half as spectacular as the one he sent me, Zach will see it.”

Evangeline’s stomach fluttered in pleasure. Such a glorious compliment deserved a reward. She stretched upward and kissed her husband straight on the mouth.

She intended the contact to be brief, but Logan took charge, dropping the reins and wrapping his arms around her. He drew her close and kissed her so deeply, she completely forgot where they were or what they were doing.

Until the wagon lurched to one side as the horses wandered off the road.

Logan released her and took up the reins, a chuckle rumbling in his throat. “You, Mrs. Fowler, just earned yourself a bumpy ride home.” That roguish gleam danced in his eyes again as he snapped the traces and set the team off at a gallop.

Evangeline squealed as she grabbed the side rail with one hand and her bonnet with the other.

Her husband would always be a man of surprises, and who was she to complain? She rather liked him that way. She laughed into the wind as they raced by the trees, suddenly as eager as he was to discover where their next adventure would lead.