Page 23 of More Than Meets the Eye

Evangeline made a decision. No, a vow. She’d pray for this man with no last name. This man who carried heavy secrets and mysterious intent. She’d pray every night as she fell asleep and every morning when she awoke. She’d pray for healing of old wounds, for an abundance of new blessings, and for godly direction to guide his steps.

As Logan jumped nimbly to his feet and held out his hand to assist her in rising, she realized she’d better add another prayer to her list. One that involved an extra helping of discernment for her own heart. She was walking a tightrope with this one, and she very much feared there would not be a net to catch her if she fell.

8

Things were getting out of hand.

Logan hung back and watched Evangeline twirl like an autumn leaf caught in a whirlwind over the patch of ground he’d spent the last week clearing. His chest tightened as joy bloomed on her face.

“It’s perfect!” She stopped spinning and turned the full force of her smile on him. “Oh, Logan. It’s beautiful. A view of the river to the north, woods to the south and west. The creek out back for water until a well can be dug. You couldn’t have picked a better spot.”

And that was exactly why things were so out of hand. He’d spent two days riding back and forth across his acreage, searching for the location she would find most pleasing. Then he’d spent the last five days clearing brush, pulling stumps, and leveling the ground so it would support a cabin. Not because he cared about improving his land in order to make it a more attractive lure for Zacharias, but because he’d wanted this: Her reaction. Her pleasure in his efforts. Her pride in his accomplishment.

He’d done it simply to make her happy.

Well, and to have an excuse to see her for an extended period of time instead of the few stolen moments he managed to wrangle for himself when she took Hezekiah for his afternoon jaunt. Apparently her brothers weren’t all that keen on her spending time alone with the new male neighbor—shocking!—and she felt the need to limit her visits with him to no more than a quarter hour to avoid arousing her siblings’ suspicions.

Logan hadn’t argued, but he’d plotted a way to carve out a healthier dose of time to spend with her. He told himself it was all part of his plan to cultivate a relationship so she’d open up to him and share information he could use against her brother. Yet watching her just now, he wasn’t calculating his next move or revising strategies. He was simply enjoying the show.

“You should build a porch,” she declared as she traipsed up to the edge of the cleared area and spread her arms wide. “Right here.” Her eyes brimmed with excitement. “Just think how lovely it would be to sit on the porch in the evening and watch the sun go down.” She wrapped her arms around her middle as she lifted her face to look at the sky. “A cup of tea in your hand. Perhaps a dog sitting beside you, his head in your lap.”

Why’d she have to go and paint a picture? Especially with that dreamy voice of hers, as if she could see into the future. He didn’t have a dog. And tea? He rolled his eyes. A man drank coffee. Tea was a woman’s drink.

At the thought of women, his mental picture shifted. The porch stretched in his mind, widening to accommodate a second chair. No, a swing. One long enough for two. A man and a woman. And there weren’t no dog’s head in his lap. Instead, there was a woman’s head on his shoulder, his arm around her back, his fingers caressing her side as they watched the red and orange sky slowly fade to gray. A woman with fire in her hair and love in her eyes.

“Logan?”

He startled, and the image vanished. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “Did you say something?”

A peculiar look crossed her face, but then her smile resurfaced to brighten her features. “I asked if you liked the idea of a porch for your cabin.”

“It’s not my cabin, Eva. Remember?” His house was currently occupied. By Hamiltons. “This property’s just an investment.”

He expected her to argue or tease or shrug off his gloomy pronouncement as she so often did and continue laying claim to the rest of the floorplan, outlining where the kitchen should be, along with the parlor and bedrooms. Instead she simply stood at the edge of his imaginary porch and stared at him.

“Did you just call me Eva?”

Logan winced. “Don’t like it, huh?”

“It’s not that. I’ve just . . . never been called by that name.” She lifted her chin as if coming to a decision. “I like it. Much more sophisticated than Evie.”

“That what your brothers call you?” He closed the distance between them. If he could get her talking about her brothers, they might make real progress today. And all that brush-clearing and land-leveling would be worth the sore back and blisters.

She smiled with true fondness. “Yes. Unless they’re vexed with me.” She scrunched up her face to demonstrate, but she looked about as angry as a pouting kitten. “Then they call me, ‘E-van-gel-ine.’”

He chuckled. She might not be able to pull off the vexed face, but she nailed the annoyed brother voice.

She laughed along with him as she took the arm he offered and allowed him to lead her toward the creek. “In truth, I wouldn’t know how to react if they started calling me something other than Evie. That’s been their name for me since childhood.” She peeked shyly over at him. “But you can call me Eva.”

His pulse did an idiotic little dance at the idea of sharing a special intimacy with her, but before he could lecture himself out of the reaction, his companion did a little dance of her own. She flounced ahead a couple paces, her hand on his arm barely tethering her as she spun back around to beam a smile at him.

“Maybe I can call you Gan. Or Lo.”

He pulled an aghast face and was rewarded with an infectious giggle.

“Oh, I know!” she exclaimed, planting her feet and bringing them both to a halt. “Log. Very strong and manly, don’t you think?”

He rolled his eyes. “Get a few of us together, chink us, and you’d have yourself a cabin.”