Page 25 of More Than Meets the Eye

He didn’t want to see himself in his enemy. Didn’t want to picture the coldhearted man who’d stolen his father’s life as a hardscrabble youth doing anything he could to provide for his family. He’d wanted insight into his nemesis, not sympathy.

“Sounds like your brother is a good man.” Logan forced the words out even though they threatened to choke him. He needed to win Eva’s trust, after all.

“He is,” she said with unwavering conviction. Poor deluded woman.

“And Seth?” Logan shifted the topic, afraid that if he pressed too much for information on Zacharias, she might suspect his interest in her family stemmed from something other than his interest in her.

Eva leaned back a little. “Seth has weak lungs. Asthma, the doctors call it. Which means that when we were kids, he got stuck tending me while Zach hunted for work.” She laughed softly. “Poor fella. Just what every young boy wants—to be saddled with a whiny little sister.”

Logan scoffed. “I can’t believe you were ever whiny.”

The smile he’d been missing blossomed anew across her face. “Oh, I had my moments. I could be a downright terror when I set my mind to it.”

“That I can believe.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I remember the wallop you pack when you get your dander up.”

“Well, in all fairness, you started it by tackling me.” She nudged his shoulder with hers, her eyes twinkling with humor.

Who knew making a gal smile could leave a man feeling so accomplished?

“Seth is my best friend,” Eva said, her eyes growing more serious. “He’s the smartest person I know. Reads all the time. Works miracles with numbers. Zach might have been the provider, but Seth was the one who ensured we survived on what Zach brought home.”

How wrong he’d been to think Eva’s cheerful nature sprang from an easy life. This girl had suffered. Perhaps even more than he had. Lost her parents. Lived in poverty. Yet the darkness of hardship hadn’t tarnished her soul. It still shone with a brilliance that stole his breath.

“It took years for us to learn how to control Seth’s condition. Every time Zach managed to scrape together a few extra coins, he dragged Seth to another doctor. He tried burning ozone papers, smoking asthma cigarettes, and about every restorative potion the drugstores offered. Nothing helped. So Zach declared them all quackery and had Seth start keeping a written record of his daily activities—what he ate, where he went, what he did—noting when he had a flare up and when he didn’t. Eventually patterns emerged. It was brilliant really. Very scientific. It took years, and in truth Seth still makes notes every day, but we eventually discovered that the presence of dust, smoke, and cats increases the likelihood of attacks. Drinking coffee, mild exercise, and eating fish seems to prevent them.”

Logan fought a scowl. Again with Hamilton being the champion. The defender of sickly children and lost little girls. It wasn’t right for the villain in Logan’s story to be the hero in hers. Hamilton didn’t deserve her loyalty, her praise. He was a thief. A killer.

Eva shrugged, oblivious to Logan’s thoughts, his poker training paying steep dividends at the moment. “I can’t see how what you eat affects your lungs,” she said, “but I can’t argue with it. Seth fishes every day and rarely has an attack anymore unless he overexerts himself outside. We have a system, though. He works the garden first thing in the morning when the wind tends to blow less, and I take over when he feels his lungs tighten. He spends most of the day in the house where he can control his environment, then ventures down to the river for a short while every afternoon to catch his supper.”

Finally. Something Logan could use. He filed away the information. It was always handy to know where people were and when. Made snooping around without getting caught that much easier.

“I owe my life to my brothers,” Eva declared, twisting slowly until her gaze jutted squarely up against Logan’s. “Zach especially. He sacrificed his future to ensure mine. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

Logan bobbed his head in friendly agreement even as he registered the warning hidden in her words. Her allegiance lay with her brothers first and foremost. And though he hated to see any redeeming value in Zacharias Hamilton, Logan had to admit the man had done right by his sister. Perhaps one who wasn’t even related by blood, if the town suppositions and his own deductions were correct.

Winning Eva to his side was going to be an uphill battle. Exposing Hamilton’s perfidy might not be enough. But he had to take the chance. He’d sit here and let her sing more of Zacharias Hamilton’s praises, even if it made his stomach churn. She was too big an asset to forfeit this early in the game.

9

Evangeline stole a peek at the man sitting next to her. Something seemed different. The easiness between them had grown tight and uncomfortable. Yet nothing untoward showed on Logan’s face. He nodded at her, his features bland and polite.

Maybe that was the problem. The spark had been doused.

She’d probably rambled on too long about her brothers. She’d wanted Logan to understand how important they were to her, but it seemed all she’d accomplished was creating distance between them.

“I’m sorry. I’m boring you, aren’t I?” She smiled an apology.

Logan leaned backward, his eyes widening. “Boring me? Not at all.” He found her hand and cupped it between both of his. “Forgive me if I gave you the impression that I wasn’t interested. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

He rubbed his thumbs over the back of her hand, and delightful little shivers danced across her skin.

Logan shook his head, his gray eyes filling with regret. “I have a confession to make.” He peered at her, and her heart instantly softened like whipped cream on hot apple pie. “One that might make you decide I’m not worthy of your company.”

He tightened his grip on her hand as if worried she’d pull away. But she wasn’t like that. She didn’t turn away from a friend just because he might or might not have done something of which society did not approve. She didn’t give two figs for society’s approval. Closed-minded people with nothing better to do than sit in judgment of others would not be dictating her opinions. She decided those for herself.

He must have seen the truth in her face, for his eyes brightened a bit. “The method I used to gain the funds to invest in this property was not particularly . . . traditional. For the last several years, I’ve worked at a lumber camp to support my mother and myself, but when I decided to invest, I needed extra capital, so I . . . padded my income at the poker tables. It’s why you thought me uninterested just now. I’ve trained myself to conceal my reactions. Perhaps too well.” He met her eyes, waiting for her condemnation, no doubt.

While she wasn’t particularly thrilled that the man she found herself increasingly attracted to had chosen a less-than-honorable method to supplement his income, she wouldn’t paint him with a black brush just yet. Everyone could be reformed, after all.