Page 62 of More Than Meets the Eye

Too bad blackening Zacharias’s name would eventually lead to blackening his own. At least in her eyes.

His pulse ratcheted up a level, and he swallowed despite the sudden dryness coating his tongue. He might as well spill the rest before she recovered from the shock enough to slap him for slandering her do-no-wrong brother and run back to the house.

“My full name is Logan Fowler,” he said as he studied her reaction. “My father was Rufus Fowler, a name you might recognize from the land deed, if you’ve ever seen it.”

A spark of recognition lit her eyes, and he knew she had.

“I knew that name sounded familiar. I just couldn’t place it,” she mumbled, and Logan nodded, startling her into meeting his gaze. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing, but her eyes didn’t dodge away. “I looked in your saddlebags when I was trapped in the cellar. I found the letter from the land office. Found your name.”

He smiled. She was so honest. So pure of heart. He could see the guilt weighing on her over an indiscretion so small, he would have barely blinked at it. Somewhere in the last seven years, the gauge on his conscience had lost its sensitivity. Maybe if she stayed with him after all this was over, she could help him repair the damage.

If she stayed.

He brushed back a strand of hair the breeze had blown across her cheek. “I know.”

She look down at her feet. “Are you angry?”

He lifted her chin with a finger and waited for her to reveal her glorious, vivid, purely Eva eyes. “No. I’m not angry. I understand what drove you to do it.” He stroked her chin with the pad of his thumb. “I just hope you can understand what is driving me as well, and offer the same forgiveness.”

Her eyebrows flattened into downward arrows. “You came to hurt Zach, didn’t you? I remember what you said about seeking recompense from the man who took your father’s land. That’s why you invested in the property next to ours, isn’t it? You were scouting us out, looking for ways to hurt us in return for how we hurt you.”

“No, Eva. I’d never hurt you.” He hurled his peach over the entire pond, anger and fear lending strength to his arm. He planted himself in front of her and cupped her face in both of his hands, ensuring she looked at him. “I don’t even want to hurt your brother. Not really. I just want a chance to win back what was stolen from us, to restore what my mother lost.”

She pulled away from his hold, her eyes flashing blue and brown fire. “Win? As in a poker game? Zach would never agree to that. He hasn’t touched a deck of cards in years. Besides, the land isn’t the same as it was seven years ago. We’ve worked it, improved it, added a cash crop. You wouldn’t just be taking back what was lost, you’d be taking what we’ve built as well. Which would make you as much of a thief as you claim Zach to be.”

She rose to her feet, her arms stiff at her sides. “It wasn’t Zach who forced your father to wager something he couldn’t afford to lose. He did that all on his own. Zach would never make such a wager, so you’d have to force his hand somehow.” Her eyes narrowed. “At gunpoint? By holding me hostage?”

“Of course not!” Logan’s mind spun at her accusations. How could she think he would do such a thing?

“You’ve been deluding yourself all these years, Logan. It’s not justice you seek.” She raised her hands to his chest and shoved. “It’s revenge.”

He allowed her to push him back, but he wasn’t about to let her leave. He charged after her. “What your brother did was wrong, Eva. He cheated a man out of his home. Turned a family out on the streets. Justice demands he pay a price for that sin.”

She spun around to face him. “And what of your father’s sin? Does justice demand that we pay for that as well? Because that’s what we’d be doing. It wasn’t Zach’s job to talk your father out of wagering his property. It was your father’s job never to put it on the table in the first place. It was your father’s job to provide a new life for you and your mother, but he chose to abandon you instead. And as much as I hate the pain his choice cost you, I can’t let you blame Zach for decisions your father made.”

“Do you think I don’t know my old man was a fool?” Tension radiated through Logan’s neck and back. As if he wasn’t fully aware of his sire’s crimes. It was she who didn’t understand the depth of her brother’s treachery. Logan widened his stance and dug his heels into the earth. “My father had no business wagering our home. You’re right about that. But it wasn’t his wager that destroyed him. It was your brother’s cheating.”

Eva crossed her arms and jutted out her chin. “Zach is not a cheat. He’s worked hard for every penny he’s ever earned.” Her eyes glared with challenge. “And from an even younger age than you.”

Logan crossed his arms, mocking her stance as he raised a brow. “I’m sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but your brother’s not the hero you’d like to think him. He’s a survivor. A scrapper. Life dealt him a worthless hand, so he bluffed and manipulated and cheated his way through until the cards got better. Some might consider that heroic, but I can’t. Not when my widowed mother is slowly being torn apart by a grief he caused.”

Something flickered in her eyes. Uncertainty? It was hard to tell, because as fast as it appeared, it vanished again beneath resurging flames of indignation. “Do you have proof?” she demanded. “Proof that he cheated?”

“My father told me what happened—”

“Oh, your father told you, did he?” She scoffed as if he were the naïve one. “And he would certainly have no reason to lie, to blame another for his own faults.” She slashed her hand through the air. “Of course he’d tell the son who adored him that the loss was not his fault, that the winner had cheated. I might not be an experienced gambler like you are, but I would wager my entire savings right now that players who lose big at the tables are quick to cry foul, to claim the person who bested them had cheated. How else are they to salvage their pride? You’ve probably been on the receiving end of such an accusation yourself.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, but he was unable to deny her words. “That’s beside the point.”

She slapped her arms against her sides. “It’s precisely the point.”

Taking a moment to inhale before he said something he’d regret, Logan relaxed his stance, let go of his defensiveness, and just shared his heart with her.

“My old man played cards every Saturday night. Usually for pots of less than a hundred dollars, but every once in a while, he’d find a group interested in deeper play.”

Eva’s face remained set in stiff lines, but she didn’t interrupt him, which meant she was probably listening. He’d count that as a win for the moment.

“He was good, Eva. Had a mind for numbers. Could keep track of all the cards in the deck and calculate the probabilities of what would turn up next. The only time he wagered his deed was when he was certain he held the winning hand.”