A thoughtful look crossed Seth’s face as he bent to retrieve the coffee cup and poured himself another serving. “You think the book is the key because it was the only thing out of the ordinary that day? Seems like a bit of a stretch.”
“Not when another book made a suspicious appearance today after Earl delivered my whiskey.”
The coffeepot clattered unsteadily back onto the rock. Seth straightened. “Another book?”
Logan nodded. “After Earl dropped off the jug in the schoolhouse privy, he didn’t just leave. He walked through the empty schoolhouse, and when he emerged, his burlap sack had something slender and rectangular inside.”
“A book.”
“Yep.” Logan propped his foot on the table rock and leaned forward, bracing his forearm across his thigh. “Two books in suspicious circumstances can’t be a coincidence. You need to find out where she picked up the book. Was it at the schoolhouse? What does she know about the local schoolmaster? He was dressed much more formally than the man I saw at the river, and he had a fancy black buggy instead of a beat-up buckboard, but his build was similar. Bulky. Overweight.”
Logan closed his eyes, trying to recall details about the horse hitched to the buggy. It had been black, but had there been white socks like the animal pulling the wagon at the river? He hadn’t considered the possibility until just now. He’d been focused more on matching the man than the animals.
He growled in frustration. “I can’t recall enough details to match the horse pulling the buggy to the team hitched to the wagon. It was black, like the second horse, but that’s all I remember.” He jerked upright. “I should have paid closer attention.”
Seth frowned. “I thought Earl was alone at the school. Was the teacher there, too?”
“No.” Logan waved a dismissive hand in the air, still disgruntled with himself for missing such a vital detail. “I spied him more than an hour earlier when he left the schoolhouse.”
“Then you couldn’t have known there was a reason to suspect him.”
Logan fisted his hands. “It’s my job to notice details! All of them.”
Seth raised a brow. “You a lawman or something?”
That surprised a laugh out of him. “No.” He shook his head and grabbed hold of his rioting emotions. Don’t get sloppy now, partner. Play it cool. “Just a businessman. I have an easier time closing deals when I pick up on nuances my competitors miss. Hence my habit of collecting details.”
Seth stared a little longer than Logan would have preferred, but eventually he let it go. “So I’ll ask Christie about the book and about the schoolmaster. Anything else?”
Logan shrugged. “Start with that, then follow your instincts.”
“That what you do?”
“Usually.”
Only with Eva, his instincts seemed to be running in such varied directions, it was hard to know which path to follow.
I can’t let my fear of losing her keep me from doing the right thing. Seth’s words jumped back into the forefront of Logan’s mind. Challenging. Prompting.
Maybe the time for secrets had passed.
22
“I’m heading out for a walk,” Evangeline called to Seth as she dashed through the kitchen toward the back door.
Christie had taken a book to the parlor just a few minutes ago, so Evangeline figured her brother wouldn’t care if she ducked out earlier than usual. She’d flown through her chores this morning, an odd mixture of guilt and anticipation urging her on.
She needed to confess to her snooping and apologize to Logan. Then quiz him about what she’d discovered. And yes, she supposed those two agendas were at odds with each other, but that was where she found herself. Sorry she’d acted without permission, yet not sorry she’d uncovered a new facet of the man who was slowly making himself at home in her heart. A man who just might kiss her again if he forgave her breach of trust.
As she imagined Logan’s strong arms sliding around her waist, Evangeline’s feet floated over the wooden floorboards, her mind bobbing above in a dreamy haze.
“Wait, Evie.” Seth skittered through the kitchen doorway and obliterated her lovely mist. “Don’t go yet.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
Was he trying to keep her away from Logan? Because he had absolutely no right. She should have known he’d try to pull some ridiculous big brother overprotective nonsense after she got herself stuck in the cellar yesterday. Well, he could demand all he wanted, but she was a grown woman, fully of age, independent—
“Something’s happened with Christie’s situation.”
Her indignation evaporated.
She released the doorknob and hurried toward him. “What? When? Does Zach know?”
Seth nodded. “I filled him in last night.”
Evangeline’s brow scrunched. “Last night?”
“After I paid Logan a visit.”
“You went out to Logan’s cabin? Alone?” Evangeline stumbled and had to grab the table edge for support.
Seth wasn’t a hermit. He traveled to church once a week and occasionally went to town for supplies, but he rarely went anywhere by himself. She or Zach usually found an excuse to accompany him. Just in case.
“I’m not an invalid, Evie. I can take a ride in the evening should I wish.”
“Of course you can.” She pulled an exasperated face, knowing better than to show anything that could be construed as pity. “I’d no more try to dictate your comings and goings than I would let you dictate mine.” A little reminder about her own autonomy never hurt, either. “I’m just surprised, is all. I didn’t think you and Logan were all that friendly.”
“We’re not.” And judging by the grumpy look on his face, he wasn’t terribly interested in changing that status.
Well, tough turnips. He and Zach would just have to get used to Logan being part of the family, because she fully intended to keep him.
If he’d have her, of course.
Which he would, right? An honorable man didn’t kiss a woman unless he had intentions.
“I got wind of Logan’s investigations on Christie’s behalf in Ben Franklin,” Seth said, effectively banishing her romantic doubts and focusing her attention where it belonged—on her friend. “I decided to ask him some questions.”
Logan had been searching for Christie’s attacker? Why hadn’t he told her? Then again, he hadn’t told her his last name either, so she shouldn’t be surprised by his secrecy. That didn’t keep her heart from aching about it, though, as she followed Seth down the hall to the parlor.
Not that she didn’t have her own secrets, she supposed. If one were to split hairs, Logan didn’t know her last name, either. Not her real, born-into-it, last name. And she hadn’t yet confessed to her snooping, so that was another secret in her cache.
Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye.
Evangeline pressed her lips into a tight line as she took a seat on the settee. The problem with memorizing scripture was that it rose up to prod her conscience at the most inconvenient times. Nothing like having Jesus call her a hypocrite to slap down her indignation over Logan’s infractions.
“You both look so grim,” Christie said, her voice shaking slightly. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No.”
“Absolutely not.”
Christie’s face turned side to side and her forehead crinkled as she tried to take in Evangeline and Seth’s synchronous denials from her position in the chair across from the sofa.
Seth scooted to the edge of the cushion, leaned forward, and reached for Christie’s hand. Her gaze locked on his. Slowly, she extended her hand and fit it into his.
“We want you to be safe,” Seth said as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Christie’s hand. “And to help you.”
“You are hel
ping me.” Christie dodged a look to Evangeline before turning back to Seth. “You’ve opened your home, taken me in.” She glanced down at her lap then forced her chin back up. “You haven’t looked down on me because of my deafness or my connection to moonshiners.” Her lashes blinked rapidly, and Evangeline felt her own eyes moisten in sympathy. “I owe you my very life.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.” Seth smiled at her, but the effort didn’t seem to comfort Christie.
The poor girl squirmed in her seat, obviously sensing the growing tension. Evangeline felt it too and gripped her hands together in her lap.
Seth rested his elbows on his knees as he brought his free hand around to cover the top of Christie’s. Her delicate hand was now fully encased in both of his. “I want to ask you a few questions about the day you were attacked.”
She frowned. “Why? I’ve already told you everything.”
“Not everything.”
Christie stiffened at Seth’s gentle indictment.
Evangeline sat a little straighter. It took every ounce of self-control not to interrupt with her own questions, but she was just here to be informed and to offer moral support to whichever adopted sibling needed it most.
“Tell me about the book you collected.” Seth’s eyes held apologies even as his jaw firmed into a determined line.
Christie tugged her hand free of Seth’s hold and leaned away from him. “It was just a book.”
Seth didn’t straighten. He left his hands dangling in front of him, bridged off his knees, as if begging her to reconnect. “But you read it, didn’t you?”
Evangeline wished Christie could hear the tenderness in his tone. If so, she’d recognize how torn he was, how much he cared about her, how much he wanted to help.
“I’ve seen how you are with books,” he teased. “You can’t resist peeking between the covers.”
Christie bit her lip and turned her face away, refusing to answer or even continue the conversation. But she hadn’t left the room. She wanted to stay, yet something was scaring her. What?
Seth slid off the settee and knelt on the floor. Like a gentle predator, he pursued her, crouching at the side of her chair. He stroked her cheek, his fingertips trailing her hairline before softly turning her face back toward his.
Evangeline’s breath caught at the shimmer of tears in her friend’s eyes. Her heart demanded she go to Christie to offer what comfort she could, but her head recognized that Seth was the one she needed right now.
Christie’s chin trembled. “You don’t understand.”
“Then tell me,” Seth said. “Let me help you.”
She bit her lip and looked at the ceiling.
Seth stroked her cheek, bringing her attention back to his face. “Who left the book for you?” he urged. “The schoolmaster?”
Christie reared back.
Schoolmaster? Evangeline frowned. From Ben Franklin? Was this what Logan had been investigating?
“Tell me, sweetheart.” Seth captured Christie’s hand. “Please. We can help you.”
She shook her head. “It’s too dangerous. If he finds out you know his secret . . .” She bit her lip. “He might try to hurt you, too. Or Evie. I can’t let that happen.”
“There’s no way for him to know what you’ve told us,” Seth said. “He doesn’t even know where you are.”
Christie pressed her lips closed, unconvinced.
Seth planted himself directly in front of her chair and focused in on her. Evangeline knew that look. The one that wrangled the truth out of her no matter how determined she was to hold on to a secret. Christie didn’t stand a chance.
“All right,” Seth said, his tone sharper. Christie might not be able to hear the difference, but she must have sensed it in his posture or facial expression, for her eyes widened, and she grasped the chair arms for support. “Let’s say he does find out where you’ve been staying and who you’ve been staying with. What’s to keep him from assuming you already told us everything? He couldn’t afford to take that risk. So whether you tell us or not, the threat is the same. The only difference is that if you tell us what you know, we have more ammunition for fighting him.”
Christie’s shoulders slumped. “Yes,” she whispered. “The book was Mr. Benson’s.”
“And did you read it?”
She ducked her head and nodded.
When she looked up again, Seth asked, “Where were you when you read it? Could Benson have seen you?”
“I don’t know. I waited until I was halfway home, in the cover of some trees, before I opened it. Usually Benson attends church, putting on a righteous show for the parents of his students, so I thought it would be safe.” A fierce look entered her eyes. She leaned forward, and her hands slapped down over his wrists, her fingers latching into place. “I had to take the risk, Seth.” Her knuckles whitened as her grip on his arms tightened. “Earl always keeps the ledgers locked in a metal box under his bed. This was the first time I’d been trusted with transporting one of them. I couldn’t waste the opportunity.”
“So Earl and Benson are partners.”
Evangeline recognized the intense expression on her brother’s face. He was pondering, fitting things together, discerning patterns, and plotting likelihoods, just like he did when researching a new investment opportunity.
Evangeline was still trying to make sense of the ledgers and why Christie was so keen to read them, while Seth had already jumped to what they signified. No wonder their family had enjoyed increased financial security over the last five years. He was always two steps ahead.
“Not true partners,” Christie qualified. “Mr. Benson has his own barter system set up with Earl. He gets one free jug of moonshine a week in exchange for tallying the accounts. Earl gives him supply receipts and order lists, and Mr. Benson organizes everything into tidy ledger rows.”
Seth’s brows scrunched together. “I don’t understand. Why would you care about the ledgers?”
“Because they don’t just encompass the moonshine accounts,” Christie intoned as if it were the most scandalous secret. “They include the household accounts as well.”
Seth shook his head. “I still don’t under—”
“I’m trying to find my baby brother,” Christie blurted.
Evangeline nearly toppled the settee as she grabbed the sofa arm and jerked forward. “What?”
Christie must have caught the movement in her peripheral vision, for she glanced away from Seth and met Evangeline’s gaze. “My mother had a child before she died. A little boy. Archie.” Her voice cracked, and she stopped to take a couple breaths before continuing. “I haven’t seen him for two years. When Mama died, Archie was only a year old, not even fully weaned. Earl didn’t want to be bothered with a baby and didn’t trust me to tend him, so he sent him away. To a sister, I think, but I can’t be sure. Earl just took Archie away one day and returned without him. Stole my brother from me and told me to forget him. As if I ever would.”
Christie turned back to Seth. “What if Earl’s sister is as cruel as he is? I can’t bear the thought of that sweet little boy suffering. He’s only three. I don’t want him under Earl’s control, either, but if I could learn his location, I could run away from Earl and track him down. That’s why I needed to examine the ledger. Earl has to be sending money somewhere for Archie’s upkeep. If I could find an address or even a bank name, I would have a place to start.”
Seth bent his neck and dropped a soft kiss on one of the hands gripping his wrists. Then he lifted his face and met Christie’s dewy gaze. “We’ll find him, Christie. I swear to you. Whatever it takes, we’ll find him.”
A small sob escaped Christie’s chest, and an empathetic tear rolled down Evangeline’s cheek. Memories of Hamilton besieged her as determination filled her breast. Christie’s brother was still alive. He could be found, restored to her. Evangeline would do whatever she could to make that happen.
“Thank you.” Christie folded over onto Seth, fitting her cheek
next to his. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
Evangeline stood, thinking to grant them some privacy, but Seth stopped her with a look. Gently, he pulled his head away from Christie’s and helped her to her feet. She released her grip on his wrists, and he wrapped his arm around her waist.
“I have one more question for you, Christie,” he said.
She sniffed a bit, then nodded.
“Why would Benson attack you if you were just looking at Earl’s ledgers? That makes no sense to me.”
Christie’s face hardened. “Because he didn’t leave me Earl’s ledger. He accidentally left one of his own.”
Evangeline met her brother’s puzzled look, then both of them turned back to Christie.
“The scoundrel’s embezzling money from the school board.”
23
Logan stood in front of the door he’d barged through as a kid and shuffled his feet. Then pulled off his hat. Then cleared his throat.
For pity’s sake, man. Just knock on the door. It’s not as if you’re asking her to marry you or anything. You’re simply paying a call.
At her home. With at least one brother in residence. The other, thankfully, was out working the sorghum. Logan had checked. Still, this was the first time he’d called at the Hamilton homestead of his own volition. Technically he’d attempted a call last night, but he’d never actually dismounted from his horse in all the excitement surrounding Eva’s disappearance, so that didn’t count. He hadn’t had time to get nervous.
Staring at the back door with a covey of flushed quail flailing about in his gut, Logan couldn’t help wishing for some other emergency to sweep in and save him. He much preferred having her on his turf, away from her brothers, but he’d grown impatient waiting for her to show up at his place today. And really, waiting was for cowards. What kind of man forced his woman to do all the courtship work? Men were the hunters, the pursuers. Seth and Zacharias were aware of his presence, so there was no point in hiding any longer. Time to lay claim to his woman, to make his intent clear.