Page 16 of More Than Meets the Eye

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.”