“Eva.” He gave her arm a sharp tug. One she couldn’t ignore.
She looked up at his face.
“We have a horse.”
Shamgar! Of course. That would be so much faster.
Evangeline immediately ceased struggling and spun back toward the horse. “Give me a leg up,” she ordered as she swept past him.
Logan, bless his heart, didn’t argue. Just did what she asked, waiting only long enough for her to grip the horn before clasping her foot and hoisting her into the saddle. Collecting the lead line, he jabbed his own foot into the stirrup and swung up behind her, his arms coming around her on either side, his warm chest pressing against her back.
Too bad she didn’t have time to enjoy the closeness, but a life hung in the balance. So she grabbed a handful of mane, leaned forward, and urged Logan to hurry.
Logan nudged Shamgar into a canter and left the road to cut cross-country, closing the gap faster than she could have hoped. Even so, the man at the wagon had already lugged his load to the water’s edge and dropped it.
“Stop!” Evangeline shouted.
The man jerked around, still too far away to recognize. All she could see was a gray hat, blue shirt, and brown trousers. Half the men in the county dressed the same.
She turned in the saddle. “Faster, Logan.”
He answered with a flick of the reins and a sharp, “Yah” to Shamgar, who gamely picked up the pace.
They closed the gap, but the farther they traveled away from the road, the rougher the terrain became. Their progress slowed. Evangeline’s heart pounded. Please, Lord. Please let us get there in time.
The man lodged a boot under the wrapped animal and rolled it deeper into the water before abandoning the helpless creature and making a run for his wagon. Evangeline’s eyes never left the long bundle of charcoal-colored wool that darkened as water soaked through the fabric. It sank deeper into the stream while the hard-hearted fiend responsible drove off in the opposite direction.
It was a large creature. Heavy enough to sink in the river silt. Maybe a dog stretched out, or a goat. Animals crippled by predators or old age and ones no longer useful to their owners were the usual targets. But no animal deserved such cruel treatment. They were God’s creation, too. They deserved kindness. Dignity.
Rising tears blurred her vision. She batted them away, letting the wind dry them on her cheeks.
By the time they reached the river’s edge, the offender’s wagon had disappeared around the bend, yet Evangeline was more concerned about the victim than the villain. The moment Logan slowed Shamgar, she tried to lift her leg over the horse’s neck to dismount, but her skirts hindered her movement.
“Easy,” Logan murmured in her ear. “I’ll get you down.”
And he did. With admirable haste. He dismounted in a smooth motion and immediately set his hands on her waist to lift her from the saddle.
“Help me,” Evangeline cried as she broke free of his gentle hold and ran toward the sinking bundle.
She plunged into the knee-deep water, unconcerned about how her Sunday dress would fare. The current tugged at her petticoats and skirt. Mud oozed over her shoes and stockings as she neared the edge of the nearly black blanket.
Squatting down, she hooked an arm around the end of the bundle closest to her. Cold water splashed her front, plastering the light blue muslin against her chest and sending a shiver through her. She ignored it, gritted her teeth, and lifted with all her might.
Instead of grabbing the other end, Logan bent down and stabbed his arms into the water beneath the middle of the bundle. With a loud grunt, he raised the entire mass out of the river.
Water sluiced off the blanket, pattering the stream’s surface. Evangeline continued to support her end as she circled around into deeper water in order to allow Logan to turn and wade back to shore.
Cords stood out along his neck, and his face reddened, attesting to the extreme effort he was exerting. Her own sodden skirts dragged at her. The soaked wool of the charcoal blanket must have doubled the weight of whatever was wrapped inside. And that whatever was limp and still, not struggling for freedom, which made Evangeline’s heart ache with dread.
As soon as Logan reached the bank, he dropped to his knees, and together they laid the bedraggled bundle on the ground. Evangeline hunted for a blanket edge, desperate to free the poor creature trapped inside. Finally she found a corner and seized it. She lurched to her feet, yanked on the fabric, and grabbed for more. Logan helped, and as soon as he added his strength, the bundle unrolled, flopping the occupant over three times before finally releasing its hold.
Evangeline gasped. “Dear God.”
It was a woman. Face down. Dark hair tangled. Black dress twisted around thin limbs. Unmoving.
Logan immediately rolled her onto her back. Evangeline crouched over her, placing her ear next to the young woman’s face.
“I don’t think she’s breathing.” She lifted her head to peer at Logan, praying he would know what to do. The woman’s skin was unnaturally pale.
“Loosen her collar,” Logan snapped, the shock in his eyes hardening into a determination that shored up Evangeline’s flagging confidence.
She fumbled with the tiny buttons at the woman’s throat while Logan moved to straddle her. Evangeline frowned. “What are you—?”
“Gotta get the water out of her lungs.” He placed his palms, fingers angled outward, above the woman’s waist and thrust upward toward her ribs in a sharp motion.
The woman rocked but remained unconscious. His face grim, Logan tried again. And again.
Tears scalded Evangeline’s cold cheeks. Please, Lord. Please. She held the woman’s hand, not knowing what else to do. Cold, wet fingers lay lifeless in her palm. She squeezed them, tried to warm them.
Logan raised up on his knees and thrust again. Harder.
Water spewed from the woman’s mouth. Evangeline grabbed for her face, turning her head as she sputtered. Logan jumped off and rolled the woman to her side, giving her a few solid whacks on the back to help clear her lungs.
The woman coughed. Choked. Breathed.
Thank you, God!
“It’s all right. You’re safe.” Evangeline combed the girl’s matted dark hair away from her face. “No one’s going to hurt you. You’re with friends.”
Glazed green eyes blinked in the sun as if trying to adjust to the light. When they finally focused on Evangeline’s face, on her eyes, the girl screamed. She shook her head back and forth and grunted like a terrified animal, then tore free of Evangeline’s gentle hold and scrambled backward. She tried to stand, but her feet tangled in the blanket. Coughs wracked her as she pushed up onto all fours. She collapsed, her arms too weak from her near drowning to support her weight, so she curled onto her side, drew up her knees, and ducked her head. A mewling sound emerged as she started to rock.
Logan met Evangeline’s gaze. “Do you think she suffers from idiocy?”
“I don’t know.” Such an impairment might explain her irrational reaction just now, but in her heart, Evangeline knew the truth. Her eyes had spooked the girl. She probably thought she’d escaped one terror only to find herself in the clutches of a river witch.
Evangeline ignored the pinpricks of hurt jabbing her heart and focused on the half-drowned girl in front of her. The girl’s mental abilities or lack thereof were immaterial. As were her superstitions about mismatched eyes. She deserved to be safe.
Evangeline slowly lowered to a crouch in front of the woman. “All I know for certain is that she’s terrified. She needs our patience and kindness.”
Keeping her movements steady and measured, Evangeline gently laid her hand on the girl’s shoulder. The woman flinched and her mewling cut off, but she didn’t uncurl or look up.
“I’m a friend,” Evangeline said, her voice low and even. “You’re safe. He won’t hurt you anymore.”
For long minutes, the woman just lay there, curled into a ball. Not moving. Not speaking. Evang
eline didn’t move, either. She kept her hand on the girl’s shoulder, letting her get used to her presence. Letting her learn that she meant no harm.
Logan hunkered down opposite them, watching. He never grew impatient. Never suggested they pack the girl up and leave. He never said a word. Just watched. Until the wind picked up and the girl started shivering. Then he quietly rose to his feet, stripped out of his jacket, and tenderly laid it over her shaking form.
The sleeves were damp from the stream, but the majority of the fabric must have carried his warmth, for the moment he draped it over her curled back, the shivers slowed and a tiny sigh escaped her.
Evangeline smiled her thanks at him, his actions confirming what her heart already knew to be true: Logan was a good man. A kind man. He carried secrets, but he had a core of decency that could not be denied.
Turning back to the woman huddled before her, Evangeline slid her hand out from under the coat and attempted stroking the woman’s hair again. As she lifted a section of dripping dark hair and moved it to the far side of the girl’s neck, her chin came around. The girl unfolded just enough to meet Evangeline’s gaze. She jerked away from Evangeline’s touch, obviously still frightened, but she didn’t try to run this time. Evangeline counted that as progress. Refusing to be offended by the girl’s behavior, she offered her friendliest smile.
“You’re safe,” Evangeline repeated, hoping the young woman had calmed enough to understand her this time. “We just want to help you.”
The girl twisted, looking at Logan. He touched the brim of his hat and dipped his head. “Ma’am.”
“Do you have family nearby?” Evangeline touched the girl’s shoulder. She spun her head back around but made no attempt to answer Evangeline’s question. “Is there somewhere we can take you? Someplace you’ll be safe?”
“You don’t recognize her?” Logan asked.
Evangeline shook her head. “No. Maybe she’s from Ben Franklin.” She turned back to the girl. “Is that where you’re from? Ben Franklin? Do you want us to take you there?”
The girl launched to her feet, Logan’s coat sliding to the ground as she shook her head adamantly.
“All right,” Evangeline soothed, holding her hands out in front of her as she rose from her crouched position. “We won’t take you to Ben Franklin. What about Pecan Gap? Do you know anyone there?”
The woman shook her head even harder, then started backing away. Her eyes darted from Logan to Evangeline to Shamgar.
Did she think to steal their horse?
Logan must have thought so, for he gave a short whistle, and Shamgar trotted over to stand beside him. The woman sagged in defeat, and tears streamed down her face.
Evangeline’s heart broke. This poor girl needed help. Needed a friend. Needed dry clothes, for pity’s sake. And Evangeline had the means to give her all three.
“Well, you obviously don’t want to go to town, so I’ll just have to take you home with me.” She marched up to the girl and held out her hand. “I’m Evangeline Hamilton.” She pointed eastward. “I live about two miles down this road with my brothers, Zach and Seth. We can protect you from whoever did this. Our place is quiet and out of the way. We hardly ever get visitors, so you don’t have to worry about anyone coming around looking for you. Logan’s our neighbor.” Evangeline nodded her head toward him. “He can help protect you, too.”
The woman nibbled her bottom lip. She was obviously terrified and didn’t know who to trust. But what option did she have? Two well-meaning strangers who’d rescued her from drowning had to weigh more favorably than setting off on her own with no food, no money, and no protection. Even if one of them had demon eyes.
“You can stay as long as you like and leave whenever you wish,” Evangeline promised, still holding out her hand. “Please. Come home with me.”
Ever so slowly, the girl extended a trembling hand and grasped Evangeline’s.
Evangeline beamed her approval as she squeezed the girl’s fingers tightly in welcome. “Oh, I’m so glad! You won’t regret it, I promise. You’re actually doing me a favor, you know,” she rambled as she bent to retrieve Logan’s coat and laid it back on the girl’s shoulders. “I’ve been the only female at the house for ages. My brothers are great men, don’t get me wrong, but I can’t exactly share sisterly confidences with them, now can I?” Evangeline wrapped her arm around the girl, who was a couple inches shorter, and gently steered her toward Shamgar. The girl kept her eyes glued to Evangeline’s face as they walked, as if she couldn’t trust her without watching her every move. “You’ll be my first friend to stay over!” Evangeline was determined to make this traumatized girl feel safe and give her a healthy dose of hope. One couldn’t survive darkness without hope. Evangeline knew that firsthand. “We’re going to be the best of friends. You’ll see.”
The girl’s eyes seemed to glaze over a bit as she stumbled along in Evangeline’s enthusiastic wake. But by the time they reached the horse, her tears had ceased and a touch of light had entered her eyes.
Evangeline turned to Logan. “Would you mind giving us a leg up?”
He had an odd look on his face. Nervous, almost. But that didn’t make sense. He had nothing to be anxious about.
“I don’t think she’ll make the walk, Logan,” Evangeline said in a hushed tone when he didn’t immediately step forward to help them mount. “But I don’t want her to feel alone, so I thought I would ride with her. That doesn’t leave much room for you, I’m afraid.”
He shook off his stupor and immediately moved to cup his hands for her to use as a step. “Of course. I’ll lead Shamgar while the two of you ride.” He glanced at the girl’s back as she petted his horse, then lowered his voice as he turned to Evangeline. “You sure we shouldn’t take her to town? We should notify the law or . . . or at least find someone who knows her.”
“Pecan Gap doesn’t have a marshal. We’d have to send to Cooper for the sheriff, and you saw how scared she was at the thought of going to town.” Evangeline gave him her sternest glare. “She’s coming home with me, Logan. And that’s the end of the matter.”
“Home,” he muttered as his gaze dipped away from hers. “Right.”
13
Logan put one foot in front of the other until they reached the homestead. It was all he could manage. He felt as if he were the one trapped in a blanket. Suffocating. Drowning. Seeing his old house from a distance was one thing. Being close enough to touch the walls that had once been his home . . . he’d thought he was prepared. Obviously he was wrong.
He led Shamgar past the barn, telling himself to focus on the house in front of him, but his gaze darted sideways against his will. The barn door stood open, and in a flash, Logan was sixteen again, coming upon his father’s lifeless body, his mother’s good tablecloth draped over all but one side of his sire’s face. Bile rose in Logan’s throat. His steps faltered. But he righted himself, tightening his hold on Shamgar’s lead line as if it were his tether to sanity. Forcing his feet to keep moving, he jerked his attention back to the house.
“Zach!” Eva’s shout effectively snapped Logan’s mind back to the present. “Seth! We need your help.”
Before her sentence was even fully uttered, Hamilton threw open the door and bounded outside, fists clenched, jaw set. He zeroed in on Logan. “What did you do?” he growled, advancing.
Logan lifted his chin but held his ground.
“He saved this poor girl’s life, Zacharias,” Eva said. “That’s what he did.” Logan swore he could hear her roll her eyes. Her exasperation made him grin, which only darkened Hamilton’s features further. A nice bonus. “Quit your posturing and come help me with our guest.”
“Guest?” Hamilton’s head zipped around as he faced his sister with a look halfway between incredulity and horror. “What do you mean, guest?”
Logan couldn’t help but be a little gratified that he wasn’t the only one having his life turned upside down by the fierce little sprite glaring down at them all from a
top her commandeered steed.
“Oh, for pity’s sake. Does no one around here have an ounce of hospitality in their tiny male brains?” Eva glared at Hamilton, then grumbled something under her breath as she slid off Shamgar’s back. “Seth. Thank heavens.” The blond Hamilton brother approached Shamgar cautiously, his gaze darting between his sister and the woman still atop the horse who appeared to be trying to fold in on herself. “My new friend needs help, and Zach doesn’t seem to be up to the task.”
Hamilton made a sound of protest, but Eva turned her back on him and addressed Seth instead.
“Be careful,” Eva warned in a quiet tone. “She’s been through a horrible ordeal and needs a hot bath, dry clothes, and a good meal.”
“Here, miss,” Seth said, his voice low and gentle as he extended his arms to her. “Let me help you down.”
His brother’s acceptance of the woman seemed to snap Hamilton out of his shock-induced stupor. “I’ll put extra water on the stove,” he grumbled as he shot one last glare at Logan before stomping back toward the house, “but don’t think we won’t be discussing this.”
Eva didn’t bat an eye. She lifted her chin and glared at his retreating back. “After supper,” she said. She turned to Logan. “And we’d love to have you join us for the meal.”
“What?” Hamilton halted, spun to glare at Logan, then turned his attention to his sister and shook his head adamantly.
Eva, however, just kept smiling, undeterred. “It’s an insufficient thank-you for your heroics today, but I hope you’ll join us. Seth’s Sunday pot roast is delicious, and there’s always plenty to go around.”
Knowing Hamilton wanted nothing more than to send him packing made accepting Eva’s offer that much sweeter. With a bow of his head and the sizzle of Hamilton’s searing glare boring through his chest, Logan fingered the brim of his hat. “Much obliged, Miss Evangeline. I’d be honored to share your table.”
“Excellent.” Her eyes danced with mischief, and Logan loved the feeling of comradery springing up between them.