After mounting, Logan urged Shamgar into a canter. If he hurried, he might still make it back in time to pay a call on Eva before suppertime.
But when he rode onto the Hamilton homestead—odd that he’d started thinking of his father’s property in those terms—the chaos that met him pushed all thoughts of supper from his mind. Hezekiah was snorting and running between his pen and the back door. Zacharias was strapping on a gun belt, and Seth was arguing with a deaf woman about his asthma not stopping him from doing what must be done.
The one person Logan didn’t see was Eva.
The knot in his stomach hardened into a stone.
19
Logan trotted Shamgar straight to the back porch. “What’s happened?”
Zacharias speared him with a glare. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Evie.” He spat the accusation like a shotgun spewing birdshot, and the pellets hit their mark. Every word stung the hide around Logan’s heart. Fear seeped in through the quickly widening holes.
“What do you mean I’m supposed to be with her? I haven’t seen her since yesterday.” He eyed Seth striding down the porch steps, his furrowed brow only increasing Logan’s worry. “I stayed the night in Ben Franklin.”
Seth approached Shamgar but maintained about a foot or two of buffer between himself and the horse, no doubt avoiding the heavy layer of trail grit on both the gelding and its rider. Logan made a point to minimize his movements to prevent stirring the dust.
“Did Evangeline know you were in Ben Franklin?” Seth queried.
Logan shook his head. “No. I hadn’t planned to extend my stay, but something came up.” He glanced at the porch, where Miss Gilliam stood, wringing her hands in her apron, then looked back at Seth.
The younger Hamilton brother seemed to catch his meaning. He raised a brow and snuck a peek over his shoulder at the pretty brunette. He wanted to ask for details, Logan could feel it, but the urgency of Eva’s disappearance took precedence over Miss Gilliam’s situation.
Zacharias marched toward them. “If Evie didn’t know Logan was gone, we can still start the search at his place.” He tossed a box of .38 caliber cartridges to his brother, who snatched them out of the air with one hand, the rattle of the metal slugs raising the hair on the back of Logan’s neck. “Grab some rope and a couple lanterns,” he ordered as he set off for the barn. “Hopefully we’ll find her before dark, but I don’t want to waste time fetching lamps if we haven’t.”
Logan’s grip tightened on Shamgar’s reins, and the horse sidestepped. “How long has she been gone?” he demanded of Seth as he forced his grip to relax.
“A few hours.” Seth followed his brother toward the barn, and Logan nudged Shamgar to keep pace. “I got a little nervous when she didn’t return in time to help with supper, but when Hezzy showed up without her, we knew something was wrong.” Seth paused at the barn entrance and met Logan’s eyes. “She never lets that pig roam around unsupervised. Too afraid some hunter will turn him into ham steaks.”
“I know,” Logan muttered, recalling the first time they’d met. She’d been so spirited in defense of her pet, so vibrant, so . . . alive. If she’d been hurt because he was off playing detective . . . No. He wouldn’t think that way. He had to stay focused on finding her. On protecting her. “She’s smart,” he said, more to himself than to Seth. “And she’s got grit. She’ll be all right.”
Please, Lord, let her be all right.
Seth said nothing in response, and his silence ate at Logan’s confidence. This was taking too long. Eva was out there somewhere, and she needed him.
Logan reined Shamgar around. “I’m heading out.”
“Wait!”
He hesitated at Seth’s shout, even as instinct insisted he wait for no man. Tugging Shamgar around, he glared impatiently at Seth.
“Where’s your cabin?” Seth asked.
“Northeast of the creek that runs along the back of your property line. Eva usually cuts through on foot, but if you want horses, there’s a small path about a quarter mile up the road. I’ll tie a handkerchief to a tree limb so you don’t miss it, but I can’t wait any longer.”
“Go.” Seth waved him off. “Find my sister.”
“I will.”
Logan kicked Shamgar into a canter, his whole heart throbbing with the weight of that vow. He would find her. No other outcome was acceptable.
He raced Shamgar down the road, yanking his handkerchief from his pocket as he went. Not sparing the time to dismount, he drew his horse to a halt at the turnoff, leaned forward in the saddle, and tied two corners of the cotton square to a branch of the blackjack oak that served as his landmark. Then he resumed his pace, pushing Shamgar as fast as he dared over the uneven terrain.
As soon as the clearing came into view, Logan started shouting Eva’s name. He leapt from the saddle before Shamgar had fully stopped and ran toward the cabin.
“Eva?” He bounded across the threshold, his gaze jousting through the framed walls, desperate to take in the entire interior at once. No skirts or lovely auburn hair in sight. “Eva!”
“Here!”
Thank you, Lord!
Logan took his first full breath since he’d arrived at the Hamilton place. “Where?” he called. “Where are you?” She’d sounded far away yet near at the same time.
“In the cellar.”
The cellar? He jerked his attention downward and finally noticed the gaping hole in the floor. Good gravy. In his haste, he could have tumbled right down on top of her. Lurching forward, he dropped to his knees and peered over the edge.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.” Her beautiful face tipped back to look at him, her magnificent eyes glowing bright with gratitude and . . . guilt? That couldn’t be right. His senses must be skewed from all the blood pumping through his overwrought veins. He’d nearly missed the gaping cellar door, after all. Yet unease niggled at him, refusing to be dismissed.
He shook the unsettling feeling away and smiled in relief. Eva was unharmed. That was what mattered.
Logan motioned for her to scoot back. “I’m coming down,” he said. “Make room.”
She obeyed, and Logan grabbed the rope and lowered himself into the cellar. Halfway down, his duster caught his eye. It was folded more neatly than he usually managed, and it completely covered the saddlebags he’d stored beneath.
His gut clenched. Maybe she did have something to feel guilty about.
Masking his suspicions, he kept his expression neutral as his feet connected with the dirt floor. Then he spun to face Eva.
“Oh, Logan!” She rushed him. Her chest collided with his ribs; her arms snapped around his waist. Then her eyes squeezed closed, and she pressed her cheek to the hollow below his shoulder. “I should never have come down here. I wanted to explore, but that was a mistake.”
A mistake because she trapped herself, or because she regretted snooping?
Then she shuddered, and he no longer cared about her reason. She was here, in his arms, and upset.
“I tried to climb the rope, but my hands were too sore, and then it was just so dark and . . . and lonely.” She glanced up at him, moisture glistening in her eyes. “Even Hezzy left me.” Her lower lip trembled, but she bit it and hid her face from him again. “I’m not usually such a weakling. Afraid of the dark.” She made a scoffing sound. “But I was down here so long, and I started worrying that something awful had happened to you, that you weren’t coming back.” Her already tight grip contracted even further. “I’m just so glad you’re here.”
Suddenly that was all that mattered. That he was there with her. His heart chugged like a speeding locomotive, not yet recovered from the scare of losing her. Her body trembled with residual fear from being trapped in a dark, unfinished cellar. Thoughts of bootleggers and Hamiltons and family responsibilities fell away, allowing feelings to take over.
Feelings of belonging. Desire. Rightness.
Logan ceased thinking altogether. His palms
pressed into Eva’s back and slowly moved upward to the space between her shoulder blades, then higher to the delicate line of her neck. She felt so good in his arms. His jaw rubbed against the side of her head. She lifted her face, the filtered light lending a sparkle to her eyes. His hands automatically came forward to cup her cheeks.
She inhaled, and his breath faltered. Her lips parted. Logan’s thumbs caressed her face, his eyes locked on her mouth. Nothing else existed. Only Eva. Only the two of them together.
Her lashes lowered, severing his control like the plunge of a guillotine. He crushed his lips to hers. So sweet. So perfect. So . . . Eva. She lifted up on tiptoes to return his kiss with abandon, infusing him with her essence. Joy. Light. Effervescence. He wanted it all. Wanted her. Triumph surged through him when she gripped the back of his coat and tugged him closer, as if she feared he’d try to escape.
Never. She belonged with him.
Logan’s fingers tunneled into the hair at Eva’s nape as he deepened their kiss, her soft, moaning hums heating his blood.
A dull thudding echoed around them, and it took a long, disoriented moment for Logan to realize that it wasn’t stemming from the blood pounding through his veins. It came from hoofbeats. Outside.
“Logan!” Zacharias Hamilton’s booming voice cracked through the air.
Eva jumped and wrenched herself from Logan’s arms. Her wide, innocent eyes blinked, as if she couldn’t quite absorb what had just happened between them. Not that he could blame her. He might not be as innocent as she was, but he was just as stunned by the effect of that kiss. He balled his hands into fists, both to keep from reaching for her again and to still their shaking.
“Evie! Where are you?” Seth’s voice carried the same panic that had coursed through Logan not ten minutes earlier.
“In the cellar,” Logan called. “She’s all right.” He cleared his throat and forced his mind to more practical matters. He turned to Eva. “Let me see your hands.”
She held them out, and he cupped them gently with his own. He frowned at the angry red abrasions. The skin had even torn in a few places on her right hand. He clenched his jaw. He was building a ladder. Tomorrow.
He reached for his handkerchief, intending to bandage her hand and protect it from the roughness of the rope, but his empty trouser pocket had nothing to offer. The white cotton square he usually carried was flapping in the breeze, tied to the tree branch by the road.
Plan B. The cellar ceiling was only about eight feet high. He could lift her out. She wouldn’t have to touch the rope at all.
He put a hand on Eva’s waist and drew her close.
“Logan.” She arched away from him. “My brothers are coming.”
He grinned. “Where is your mind, Miss Hamilton?” he teased. “I’m only trying to get you out of here without further injuring your hands.”
“Oh.”
Was that disappointment in her voice? He sure hoped so. Heaven knew he’d much rather be pulling her into his arms for another private embrace than handing her into her brothers’ keeping. Had he known he would find her unhurt in the privacy of his cellar, he never would have given the Hamiltons directions to his cabin.
Hurried footsteps on the floor above told him he was out of time.
He moved behind Eva and placed both hands on her waist. “When I count to three, jump.” He bounced a bit with her, giving her the rhythm as they bent their knees in time. “One.” He widened his stance. “Two.” He tightened his grip on her waist. “Three!”
She leapt. He lifted. Bending deep at the knees, he hoisted her onto his right shoulder, then pushed up with his legs until he had straightened to his full height.
He blew out a breath as he stepped closer to the edge of the opening, making sure her position was steady when she reached up to the men crouching at the cellar entrance.
“Careful with her hands,” Logan ordered. “They’re torn up from the rope.”
Zacharias and Seth immediately adjusted, clasping her forearms, one brother on each arm. In an instant, her weight lifted from Logan’s shoulder, and she disappeared from view.
Not liking the feeling of having her stripped away from him, even if it was for her own good, he immediately grabbed hold of the rope and climbed out. Yet being on equal footing didn’t bring him into their circle. The brothers peppered her with questions and wrapped her hands with their handkerchiefs while she assured them she was fine and asked about Hezekiah.
She didn’t look at Logan. Not once. Filling him with questions of his own.
Did she regret their kiss, or was she just trying to keep her brothers from guessing what had transpired before their arrival?
He glanced into the cellar as he folded the trap door shut. Or maybe she’d figured out who he really was.
The twinge in his chest intensified into a full-on throb.
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 mattre
ss 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.”