20

“Are you sure you’re all right? You gave us quite a scare.” Christie paused in applying salve to the torn places on Evangeline’s right palm in order to watch her new friend’s face.

Evangeline smiled and nodded. “Yes. I’m fine. Nothing but a few scrapes and some wounded pride.” She rolled her eyes. “It was my own fault for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.” She touched Christie’s knee with her left hand. “I’m sorry I worried everyone.”

The two girls had secreted themselves in their room, Evangeline having declared that she needed to wash up and change after her ordeal, and Christie insisting she could handle the minor doctoring required without male oversight.

Christie dabbed a final bit of salve on the padded area beneath Evangeline’s thumb. The touch stung, even with her careful ministrations. Evangeline winced but forced her hand to remain still until Christie had finished.

“I’ve never seen Seth so worked up,” Christie said as she wrapped a linen bandage around Evangeline’s hand. “I feared his lungs would seize.”

Evangeline’s heart warmed at the young woman’s concern for her brother. Maybe in time, she and Christie would be sisters in truth. Wouldn’t that be marvelous? Christie and Seth living here, she and Logan living across the way. She just needed to find a lady for Zach in order to complete the perfect fairy tale.

After Christie tied off the bandage and glanced up, Evangeline smiled and sidled closer to her on the edge of the bed. “I’m glad you’re looking out for him. He doesn’t like to be mothered, but it doesn’t hurt to have someone ready to fight on his behalf should the need arise.”

Red colored Christie’s cheeks. “You’re right about the mothering. He got mulish when I suggested he leave the searching to Zach.” She nibbled her bottom lip as if debating whether or not to speak further, then bravely met Evangeline’s eyes. “I might have said something about him not doing you any good if he fell ill along the way,” she confessed. “He didn’t take too kindly to that.”

Evangeline chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose he did.” She leaned close and nudged Christie’s shoulder, careful to keep her lips in full view. “A man’s pride does tend to be a mite touchy. I’ve learned never to cast doubt on their abilities. Haranguing them over their pigheadedness, however, is perfectly acceptable.”

Christie laughed, and Evangeline joined in. Mercy, but she loved having a sister. Another woman to confide in was such a blessing. And speaking of confidences . . .

Evangeline darted a glance toward the door, ensuring it was closed.

Christie’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”

Evangeline felt her own cheeks warm as she struggled to meet Christie’s gaze. Keeping her voice so low it would be impossible for anyone to hear—and thanking the Lord for a friend who didn’t require any volume at all—Evangeline let the secret she’d been carrying inside all evening finally burst free.

“Logan kissed me,” she mouthed, barely more than a whisper giving life to the words.

Christie’s green eyes widened before crinkling joyfully as her gaping mouth curved into an excited smile. She bounced the mattress with her enthusiasm as she clasped Evangeline’s unbandaged hand. “Was it wonderful?”

Evangeline grinned and nodded. “I’ve never been kissed before,” she admitted, “so I don’t have anything to compare it to, but I don’t know how it could have been any better.” Once again she felt Logan’s strong arms circle her waist, the light touch of his fingers in her hair, the way her whole body hummed with excitement as his lips pressed against hers.

Oh, dear. It occurred to her that she might have actually hummed out loud. So much for impressing him with her sophistication.

Though, if memory served, Logan hadn’t seemed particularly distracted by her random noises. His focus had been quite extraordinary, under the circumstances.

Evangeline grabbed a small book off her bedside table and fanned her face. Goodness. Was Seth warming dinner with a bonfire out there? She swore the temperature in this room had just increased ten degrees.

“I’ve never been kissed, either,” Christie confided, leaning her head close. Evangeline set the book aside. “Never wanted to be. Not by any of the men who came around the house looking for Earl.”

She glanced toward the door. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t really have to. Evangeline could read the longing on her face. The new men in her life were nothing like the old ones. Especially a particular fellow with blond hair, blue eyes, and a penchant for cooking. Not to mention reading. Evangeline had lost count of how many times she’d come home in the afternoon to find Christie and Seth sitting quietly together in the parlor, each with a book in hand. Lately, they’d even been spotted sharing the settee.

Evangeline squeezed Christie’s hand to regain her attention. “If it’s the right man, a kiss can make your heart sing.”

“Is that what happened with you and Logan?” Christie grinned shyly. “Did your heart sing?”

“Oh, yes.” Evangeline turned sheepish. “So much so that I fear I sang aloud, too. I’m praying he didn’t notice.”

Christie giggled. “I’ve seen the way Logan looks at you. You could sing the contents of an entire hymnal, and I don’t think he would care.”

Evangeline ducked her head, but she couldn’t stop the pleased smile stretching wide across her face. Was Christie right? Had Logan come to care for her enough over the last few weeks to overlook her idiosyncrasies?

Or more importantly, her snooping?

A knock on the door scattered her thoughts.

“Supper’s ready, ladies,” Seth announced.

Evangeline released Christie’s hand and pushed to her feet. “Be right there.”

Christie caught on immediately and stood. She crossed to the mirror above Evangeline’s bureau to check her hair and smooth her bodice a final time before following Evangeline to the kitchen.

When they entered the room, Seth’s eyes immediately found Christie, even though his gaze had to dodge around his sister to find his intended target. Only when Zach’s gruff voice broke the silence to ask if Evangeline was feeling better did Seth’s attention shift guiltily to his sister.

“Yes, Evie. How are the hands?” he asked as he jerked into motion after having frozen mid-ladle when the girls had entered. Well, when Christie had entered. He dipped the ladle into the stockpot on the stove and dished out a healthy portion of vegetable soup into a bowl.

Evangeline grinned as she moved to the table. “Much better, thank you. Christie has a gentle touch.”

The ladle slipped from Seth’s hand and banged against the side of the pot. Evangeline stifled a giggle.

“Here, let me help.” Christie glided over to the stove and retrieved the next bowl from the pile stacked on the cabinet beside Seth. His neck reddened, but he quickly shifted sideways to make room for her.

Evangeline turned to share a teasing grin with Zach only to find him scowling. She rounded the table and slid her left arm through his right.

“What has you so out of sorts? I think it’s nice to see the two of them getting along so well.”

His scowl softened, but his eyes glowed with an intensity that made her stomach cramp with foreboding. “You know I’ve only ever wanted you and Seth to be happy, right?”

“Of course.” She peered into his face, distressed by the shadows in his eyes. “What are you trying to tell me, Zach?”

He let out a breath and glanced toward the window. “Nothing, I just . . .” He pulled his arm from her loose hold and stepped closer to the table, grasping the back of the chair in front of him. His knuckles whitened. “Things are changin’ around here, is all.” He pitched his voice low to ensure it didn’t carry farther than Evangeline’s ears. “And I want to make sure they’re changin’ for the better.”

Always the protector. Zach might try to hide his big heart behind growls and scowls and curmudgeonly antics, but it drove every decision he made and every action he took, whether he’d admit it or not.

Evangeline slid her arm back through his and laid her head on his sturdy shoulder. “I hate to break it to you, big brother, but Seth and I aren’t kids anymore. We don’t need you to protect us from the world and all the possible problems it might send our way. You’ve taught us how to stand on our own. Perhaps it’s time you let us do that.”

He stiffened and didn’t respond for a long minute. Worried she’d somehow hurt his feelings, Evangeline lifted her head and peered at his face. But before she could ask him anything, he released the chair back and straightened away from her.

“You might be right.”

At the hiss of boiling water, Logan wadded a bandana in his hand and moved the coffeepot from the rack atop the campfire. He pulled the lid open, dumped a heaping scoop of coffee grounds into the steaming water, swirled it around a bit to stir, then set it aside to brew. Next he collected the cast iron skillet he’d layered with bacon slices earlier and moved it onto the fire. Bacon, a tin of beans, and coffee. A man’s meal. Rustic. Rugged. And bland as could be.

Thank heavens he’d found the corn bread muffins and honey Eva had left behind when her brothers snatched her away. He’d already eaten two. Only extreme self-discipline had allowed him to set the remaining two aside until after he’d cooked up his rations for the night. But he knew they were there. He could hear them calling to him from the basket, begging to be devoured. But he’d waited this long; he could wait a little longer. He’d use one to soak up the bacon grease and crumble it into the beans. Then he’d slather the last one with honey and savor it for dessert.

Logan swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and used a fork to turn the bacon. The grease sizzled and popped, and a droplet jumped from the pan onto his wrist. He jerked his arm back and rubbed the scalded spot against his pants.

Eva wasn’t even here, and he was still off his game.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d relived the kiss they’d shared in the cellar. The feel of her in his arms. The sweetness of her lips. Not even the honey could compare.

Yet there was bitter to go with the sweet. She’d found the letter from the land office. Had seen his full name. Could even now be sharing what she’d learned with her brothers.

Logan reached for the coffeepot, gave it another swirling stir, then turned the bacon. For seven years he’d been working toward finding justice for his family. Promises made to his mother might never be fulfilled because he’d let himself get distracted by a pretty face and sunny disposition.

His gaze drifted from the bright orange of the fire to the gray outline of his cabin. His cabin? Ha! It was hers. All hers. The layout, the design, even the stupid ladder to the cellar he’d spent the last two hours installing instead of eating supper like a normal person. The entire thing was for her.

Everywhere he looked, he recalled her delight, from the first day when he’d cleared the foundation and she’d danced around, building imaginary porches and parlors. Porches and parlors he’d constructed into reality. The wooden studs seemed to have absorbed her warmth, her joyous nature, because every room conjured a memory of her smile. So much so that he found himself lingering within the unfinished walls at the end of the day in order to feel closer to her. To ease the loneliness in his soul. He’d even set up his bedroll in the front room and fell asleep each night dreaming of her beside him.

Logan’s jaw clenched as he pulled the skillet from the fire. He opened the coffeepot and added a dash of cold water from his canteen to settle the grounds.

That was what he needed. To settle. To focus on the business of serving up justice before the woman under his skin served him up to her brothers on a silver platter.

Snatching a strip of bacon, he shoved half the length into his mouth and chewed as if the act could somehow banish Eva from his mind. It didn’t work, of course, because the salty bacon drippings reminded him of her corn muffins. Before he knew what he was about, he had the bread crumbled into the pan and spooned into his mouth. He was a sorry case, all right.

Then Shamgar nickered and accomplished what Logan had been helpless to do all evening—focus his mind.

Hooves plodded against earth, leather creaked, and a lantern bobbed in the dinge of twilight. Somewhat blinded by the fire, Logan stepped out of its glow and into the darker recesses of the unfinished cabin. Slowly, he slid his pistol from the holster at his side and took aim at the approaching horse and rider. The glare of the lantern masked the rider’s identity, but Logan could think of only one man with reason to challenge him tonight.

“If that’s you, Hamilton,” he shouted, “you better declare yourself before my trigger finger gets twitchy.”