Page 45 of More Than Meets the Eye

Taking hold of the rope whose tether now made sense, Evangeline lowered herself into the cellar. Well, it was more falling than lowering, seeing as how the rope slid through her hands the instant her full weight left the floor above. She managed to slow her descent enough not to lose all dignity by splatting on her rear, but the stinging in her hands made her reconsider the wisdom of this hastily crafted plan.

Oh, well. Now that she was here, she might as well see the deed done.

Shaking her scraped hands to alleviate the sting, she moved to where Logan’s duster lay and quickly rifled through his pockets. Nothing. Well, some might count the thirty-five dollars in cash stuffed in the outer right pocket as something, but Evangeline wasn’t interested in money. Information was the only currency she sought.

Just to make sure she hadn’t missed anything in the folds, she stood up, held the duster by the shoulder seams, and gave it a good, snapping shake. Nothing fluttered free. Sighing, she folded the coat back up and bent to drop it neatly into place. But before she released her grip, a sunbeam shimmered off something metal just a few inches deeper into the cellar. Setting the duster aside, she stepped forward and hunkered down again, extending her hands to feel her way around until she touched a leather pouch with a metal buckle. She grabbed it and dragged it toward the tepid pool of light beneath the overhead door.

His saddlebags. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the buckle.

“Sorry, Logan,” she murmured, the concession not doing much to dull the guilt riding her conscience.

Her fingers trembled, causing her to fumble the buckle, but she didn’t falter. She kept after it until the saddlebag was unfastened. For my brothers.

She reached into the first pouch and dragged out the contents. Clean shirt. Trousers. Comb. A small pouch of coins that she didn’t bother to count. She shoved her hand back in and worked her fingers into every seam of the leather, but except for caking an unpleasant layer of grime under her nails, she gained nothing from her hunt.

She turned her attention to the second saddlebag, the thinner of the two. She found matches, jerky, and two more bags of coins. Exactly how much money did Logan carry around, anyway? Losing heart, she reached in a final time. Something crinkled. Something smooth, like paper.

Stomach tightening, Evangeline sucked in a breath and wrenched her treasure out of the bag. A letter. She held the envelope up to what little light filtered down and squinted to make out the address. To Logan Fowler from the Delta County Land Office in Cooper.

Fowler. Satisfaction shot through her. She’d uncovered one of his secrets. His name. Logan Fowler. It was a good name. Strong. Capable. And just the tiniest bit familiar. Why was it familiar?

Evangeline shrugged off the question. She could ponder that later. Right now, she needed to see what was inside the envelope before the man it belonged to returned.

Once she had the letter free, she unfolded the single page and angled it toward the light.

Dear Mr. Fowler,

I am pleased to inform you that the land you inquired about is available. The forty acres immediately northeast of Zacharias Hamilton’s property can be purchased at the Delta County Land Office at your convenience. Please have any necessary financing arranged with your bank before you present yourself to the land agent.

Sincerely,

R. W. Downing

Evangeline lifted her head even as her stomach sank. Mere chance hadn’t brought her new neighbor into her life. Somehow he’d known who Zach was and had plotted to place himself in her brother’s path. For what purpose? Zach hadn’t even seemed to recognize him the few times they’d met.

Her shoulders sagged, suddenly feeling too heavy to hold erect. She couldn’t let Logan hurt Zach. Yet she couldn’t believe the man she was falling in love with would want to. Logan knew how much her brothers meant to her. How beholden she felt toward them. How dedicated the Hamiltons were to one another.

There had to be another explanation.

She glanced again at the letter. It was dated more than four months ago. Maybe things had changed since then. Maybe now that Logan had gotten to know her, to know Zach and Seth, he’d set aside his plan, whatever it had been. Maybe he truly intended to live in this cozy little cabin. To marry her and be permanent neighbors with her family. It was possible.

Heavy clicks on the floorboards overhead threw her into a panic. She shoved the letter back into its envelope, pushed it into the pouch, and dumped the rest of Logan’s belongings in on top of it. The buckle refused to yield to her shaking fingers, so she tossed the damning evidence away from her as the clicking grew closer.

She turned her face toward the opening and pasted on a bright smile. A face peered down at her. Dark. Hairy. An enormous nose.

Snort.

Evangeline clutched at her chest. “Mercy, Hezekiah. You gave me a start.”

Her pet just stared at her, as if chastising his mistress for putting herself somewhere she did not belong. Well, she wasn’t the only one.

“Shoo!” Evangeline waved the boar off. “You know you’re not supposed to be in the house.”

She swore she saw the pig shrug before he lumbered off, his hooves clicking on the floorboards. Insolent critter.

Evangeline rubbed the back of her hand across her brow to clear away the perspiration that had gathered there. She supposed she ought to climb out of this hole before getting caught for real. After taking a minute to tidy Logan’s second saddlebag and fasten it properly, she inhaled a deep breath, grabbed hold of the rope, and pulled.

Her arms tightened, her torso lifted. The opening was only a few feet above her. Her neck strained. It shouldn’t be too hard to climb out. Her legs kicked through the air. Well, unless one happened to have rope burns on her hands and embarrassingly little upper-body strength.