5

Warm tingles shot up Evangeline’s arm as Logan’s hand tightened around hers. His long fingers nearly pinched her smaller ones in the firmness of his grip, but the expression on his face made the discomfort inconsequential. There was something there. An old hurt, maybe? Bitterness? Fear? Whatever drove him, the desperation for connection she sensed was palpable. It throbbed in her heart, tugging on her sympathies until she felt a physical ache. He’d told her straight out that he didn’t trust easily, but she could feel that he wanted to. Deep down inside, he yearned for more than a solitary existence.

He was wounded. Lonely. Her stomach clenched. She couldn’t ignore his pain any more than she could ignore her own. Because it mirrored her own. She rubbed the pad of her thumb over the skin on the back of his hand in silent comradery.

He jerked at her touch, dropped her hand, and stepped back. His face went blank, all hint of vulnerability vanishing.

Well, all visible vulnerability, at least. She, better than anyone, knew that a soul’s sore spots didn’t really disappear. They could be buried, defended, and denied, but until they were loved, they wreaked havoc with a person’s peace. She still had a few tender places that ached when prodded, but Zach and Seth had loved and accepted her into a place where past hurts mattered less than present blessings.

Maybe God had brought her into this stranger’s life to do the same for him.

Evangeline smiled. “So, by neighbor do you mean you own the property next door?”

“Yep. Bought it a couple weeks back as an investment.”

“An investment? So you don’t plan to stay?” The disappointment twinging in her chest had no business twinging. For heaven’s sake, she’d only just met him. Sensing a kindred spirit didn’t mean she should feel a loss at the thought of him leaving.

“I haven’t decided.” He eyed her in a decidedly masculine way, one that made her itch to check her hair. Not that she could repair the damage with a few tucks and pats. Thanks to her sprint through the woods and subsequent tumble and skirmish with her rescuer, she’d need a brush, a mirror, and about a dozen new hairpins to tame the bird’s nest she felt drooping lopsidedly behind her left ear.

She’d finally met a man who didn’t seem to care about her contradictory eyes, and now her hoydenish behavior would probably run him off.

Evangeline straightened her posture and brushed away a few dead leaves still clinging to the front of her forest-green skirt. As if that would help. She felt slightly better when Logan ran a hand through his own hair and dislodged some leftover pieces of grass. Of course, all he had to do was flick the debris away from his shoulder to completely put himself to rights.

She sighed, missing the days when she had run around in Seth’s cast-off trousers with short hair and no thought for her appearance. Life had been much simpler before Charlotte Clem, wife of the local Baptist preacher, decided to interfere and teach her the art of being a young lady. Mrs. Clem was a dear woman with a big heart—and really, it would’ve been worse to meet Logan while running around in britches and shorn locks—but knowing the standard of womanhood he was probably accustomed to and realizing she fell woefully short at the moment did little for Evangeline’s confidence.

“I can’t be sure how long I’ll be around,” Logan finally said, breaking the silence that was growing increasingly awkward. “Depends on how long it takes to wrap up my business.”

“Selling your land?”

He gave her a look that warned her questions were veering into the realm of too personal.

She knew it was rude to quiz a man about his personal business, but how was she supposed to get to know him otherwise? A niggle of unease stirred in her stomach. If he didn’t have anything to hide, wouldn’t he be more forthcoming?

Then again, how many times had she and her brothers ducked questions about their past, needing to keep their secrets in order to keep their family intact? Nobody really believed they were blood kin, though some claimed they all came from the same mother but different fathers. That particular rumor was far from complimentary of their hypothetical mother, so Evangeline fiercely refuted it whenever it arose. She didn’t remember much about her true parents, but what she did recall filled her with warmth and love and happiness. She’d let no one speak ill of her mother, even a pretend version that hadn’t actually existed.

Perhaps she should grant Logan the same courtesy she wished to receive from others and stop prying.

“You know,” she said, backing the conversation up to a place where her footing had been more solid, “if you want to make the most of your investment, you should improve your acreage. Build a cabin. Clear some land. That sort of thing.” She’d vowed not to pry about his business, not to cease interfering. Besides, if she convinced him to linger, she’d have a better chance of getting to know him. A prospect that grew more tantalizing by the minute. “You’ll fetch a better price that way.”

His eyes crinkled just a bit, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Heat crept up Evangeline’s neck, but she brazened it out, keeping her smile in place and only twisting a smidgen from side to side as she waited for his response.

A response that took an eternity to arrive. He just kept staring at her, saying nothing. Nothing with his mouth, anyway. His eyes were a different story. They seemed to ask a hundred questions, peering at her with an intensity that made her believe he could excavate his answers without her uttering a word.

“You might be right,” he finally said. “I’ll give it some thought.”

Elation surged through Evangeline’s veins and lifted her up onto her toes in a happy little bounce. “If you decide to build, I could ask my brothers to help you frame out the walls. They built the smokehouse we use for—”

“No.”

The forceful interruption smacked her back down onto her heels.

A muscle ticked in Logan’s jaw as he jerked his gaze to the right, away from her. “Sorry.” He fingered the scar by his eye again, then turned back to face her. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. But I don’t want to be beholden to your brother. To anyone, actually. This is my project, and I’ll see to whatever needs to be done.”

“All right.” Her enthusiasm quickly buoyed. No help meant it would take him longer. Which meant he would stay longer. Which meant she had more time to forge a friendship.

Or something more.

She slammed the door closed on that thought. It was much too soon, and she still had too many questions about her new neighbor. Like why he had set up his camp in the thick of the woods right next to her property line when there were surely dozens of better sites across the rest of his land. And why the mere mention of her brothers had him snapping like a turtle going for a fish.

Come to think of it, being snappish wasn’t the only similarity between Logan and the crusty old turtle she used to play with down by the pond behind the smokehouse. Solitary creature. Hard shell to protect all vulnerable areas. Adept at camouflage.

That last one made her uneasy. The turtle used to cover itself with mud at the bottom of the pond until only its eyes would show, then strike whenever an unsuspecting fish swam within reach.

Logan wasn’t doing that, was he? Hiding his true purposes in order to hunt prey? Evangeline swallowed. If so, who was his prey?

Don’t jump to conclusions, Evie. Snapping turtles only became aggressive when threatened. They were shy by nature, avoiding human interaction. Yet many considered them vicious creatures and went out of their way to destroy them. Rash decisions based on assumptions instead of facts too often led to needless suffering. How many times had she been judged based on appearances and not on her true nature? More than she could count. She’d not judge Logan until she understood him. And to understand him, she’d have to spend time in his company.

That scaly old turtle at the pond eventually allowed her to pet its shell and even the top of its head. After weeks of patience and kindness and a few dead minnows tossed its way, it eventually learned to trust her. Logan would too.

Hopefully.

Evangeline smiled up at him. “So . . . do you need anything?”

Confusion creased his forehead. “Need anything?”

“You know, like supplies and things.” Goodness. Could she sound any less intelligent? She pinched the edges of her skirt on both sides and twisted with a little more vigor. “When I was snooping around your camp, I didn’t notice much in the way of food.”

He raised a brow. “So you admit to snooping around my camp?”

“Of course.” His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline at her blunt answer, and her twisting stilled as her confidence reasserted itself. “Do you admit to trespassing on my land?”

He grinned—an actual, both-corners-turning-up grin—then shook his head.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Figures. Your species is a stubborn breed.”

“My species?”

She was dearly tempted to respond with snapping turtles but decided to stick with a safer, yet no less truthful, reply. “Men.”

He chuckled, and the warm, low sound did odd things to her belly. “That’s not stubbornness, Miss Hamilton. It’s determination. Stubbornness is what affects the female strain.”

Evangeline clucked her tongue even as she secretly delighted in the teasing exchange. If this kept up, she’d be winning her turtle’s trust in no time. “Stubborn and deluded. It’s a miracle your kind has survived this long.”

“Deluded? I beg to differ.” Logan crossed his arms over his chest and smirked with an impressive level of haughtiness. “I travel with a horse, the most useful animal known to mankind. You travel with a hog.”

“A very kingly hog,” Evangeline defended loyally.

“Who destroys garden plots, weakens trees, and roots up the soil.”

“Not Hezzy.” Unless he managed to get out of his pen. But that hadn’t happened since Zach fortified the fence last month. “He’s a devoted companion.”

Logan uncrossed his arms, took a step closer to her, and leaned down until his face was uncomfortably close to hers. “And that, my dear, is the core of the feminine delusion. You allow sentiment to overrule logic.” All playfulness drained from his expression. He stared at her, hard. “Leading with your heart instead of your head leaves you susceptible to exploitation, hurt, and disappointment.”

Evangeline narrowed her eyes and stiffened her spine. “It also leaves you susceptible to love, joy, and hope. And I’m not willing to give those up, so go peddle your pessimism somewhere else, mister. I’m not buying.”

His mouth tightened slightly, but he didn’t continue the argument. He just glared at her. Evangeline held his gaze without backing down. Something had hurt him. Hardened him. Yet there was still softness hidden in his crevices. He’d run to her rescue when he thought her in danger. Even now he seemed more intent on warning her to guard her heart than on proving himself right.

Well, she was no stranger to loss, to hurt feelings, to prejudice. But she’d decided long ago not to let pain dictate her life. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. That was what she chose. To let her Father lead her down a brighter path, a path where the joy of the Lord became her strength. A shell, no matter how fortified, was not impenetrable. Pain always found a way inside. The only way to truly overcome was to dissolve the darkness with light.

“Take your pig and scurry on home to your brothers, Miss Hamilton,” Logan growled as he turned his back on her and bent to reclaim the hat he’d lost during their tussle earlier. “It’d be safer for you to mind your own business and leave the strange men you encounter in the woods alone.”

Evangeline smiled at his grumpy protectiveness as he brushed the dust from his hat’s crown. “Oh, come now. You’re not that strange, Mr. . . .” She paused, her forehead crinkling as she realized he’d never told her his surname.

He turned to face her, his brows raised in mocking confirmation that he was, indeed, strange after all.

Oh, for pity’s sake. Was he really going to make her ask?

He said nothing, just reshaped the brim of his black hat.

Fine. “I don’t think you told me your last name.”

“That’s right.” The hat temporarily blocked his face as he lifted it to his head. He took a moment to fit it into the precise spot he preferred, then finally lowered his arm and met her eyes. “Better you not know.”

“Why?”

His mouth twitched with impatience. “Must you question everything?”

She shrugged. “Usually.”

His eyes widened slightly, then he blew out a breath that carried a hint of exasperation. “I’m starting to learn that about you.” He glanced away for a moment, and when he turned back, his eyes sought hers. “Look, I didn’t choose property in Pecan Gap at random. My family has history in this area. A history I’d rather keep private for now. If you knew, it would . . .” He looked at the ground. “It would change the way you see me.”

Sharp memories pricked at Evangeline. A little girl staring at the ground to hide her eyes, afraid to reveal her flaw, knowing it would change everything. People would see her differently. They’d no longer want her.

Her throat thickened with sympathy. She reached out and touched Logan’s arm. His head jerked up; his gaze collided with hers.

“Once you get to know me better,” she said, “you’ll learn that I don’t let rumors or superficial traits dictate my opinion of people. But for now, I’ll stop pressing you for answers you’re not ready to give.” She smiled at him and gave his arm a friendly pat before pulling her hand away. As she sauntered over to where Hezzy dozed in the shade, she glanced back to wave at the man who seemed to be frozen in place. “I’ll come by tomorrow with some bread and other goodies to welcome you to the area.”

He frowned. “You don’t—”

“It’s only neighborly,” she insisted cheerfully, subverting any further protests he might feel compelled to voice by whistling to her hog. Hezzy lumbered to his feet as she passed by, and the two of them set off for the house. “See you tomorrow!” she called after she’d put enough distance between them to ensure Logan couldn’t argue.

Her new neighbor might be determined to protect her from herself, but she was equally determined to return the favor.