Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

H e's here again.

Jake scowled at Evie and her visitor on the patio as he laid the shovel across the wheelbarrow. It was the same man who'd been by last week when Teddy had caught him kissing Evie, then instead of punching him in the nose, told him he'd be learning how to build trust with a horse. This time, the man brought her a box of candy; the fancy rectangular tin on the patio table sat unopened next to a pitcher of lemonade. Based on Evie's reactions, she liked her visitor. He was well dressed. Handsome, even if Jake was loath to admit it.

Evie laughed at something the man said, and his jaw clenched as his scowl deepened.

Who is he? Another suitor, like Oscar?

Jealousy swept through him, and he gritted his teeth. The fact that Oscar had come to the ranch as a possible husband for Evie didn't bother him. Oscar was too immature, and just a tad too hot-headed, not to mention arrogant and just…full of himself. But this man could definitely be trouble.

He pursed his lips with annoyance as he pushed the wheelbarrow full of manure across the barnyard, but his attention remained on Evie and the gentleman—until he hit the rose-covered trellis, causing the whole framework to shake and a few rose petals to float gracefully to the ground.

Neither Evie or her caller seemed to notice, for which he was thankful. He was also grateful that he hadn't damaged the trellis. He wasn't sure how'd he'd explain it.

His gaze swept over her, seeing that instead of her usual uniform of skirt and plain blouse, Evie wore a fancy blue-and-white town dress, as fashionable as any he'd seen in San Francisco, which emphasized her figure and made her seem younger. Or perhaps it wasn't the dress at all that made it seem that way, but rather, the enjoyment on her face. His jaw clenched even tighter.

Her hair was different, too. Instead of being pulled into a bun or tied back with a ribbon, it was done up in an intricate style, the ringlets bouncing as she laughed. She looked entirely too beautiful.

He jerked the wheelbarrow back and maneuvered it away from the rose trellis, all the while cussing under his breath. He looked up and his gaze met that of Evie's gentleman caller. The man smiled at him. It wasn't a smug smile, like Oscar wore. Not at all. It was friendly and confident, as if this man never met a stranger.

A man…whom Evie belonged with. Not a gambler by trade, though Jake hadn't touched a playing card since before he arrived here, not even for a game of solitaire.

Things were changing though. Every day. Despite the demanding work, he liked being here on this ranch. Working with the horses, taking care of them, learning how to ride and train them. It touched something deep inside himself, something he hadn't even known existed. It was honest and humbling and exactly what he'd needed.

Evie laughed, drawing his attention once more, and his jaw clenched even harder. At this rate, he'd break his teeth.

She rose from her seat. Her suitor did as well, a true gentleman. She picked up the tin of chocolates—at least, he assumed they were chocolates…they could have been peppermints or lemon drops—placed it on the tray with the pitcher of lemonade and the glasses they'd used, and brought everything into the house. She came out a moment later, carrying a frilly parasol and a drawstring bag that matched her outfit.

Her gentleman caller extended his arm, that same confident smile on his face. Evie placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, and they walked along the flagstone path, through the garden gate, then disappeared around the corner of the house.

Where is she going with him?

He started pushing the wheelbarrow full of manure toward the other side of the house, but his focus was still on the garden gate, waiting for Evie to come back, knowing full well she wouldn't.

"Better watch where you're going, son."

Startled, he stopped and whipped his head around, finally focusing on something other than the last place he'd seen Evie. He'd come close to hitting Charley with the wheelbarrow. Or Antonio, who stood right beside him. He froze in place, his hands still gripping the wheelbarrow handle as if he couldn't let go.

"My apologies. I didn't see you there."

Charley laughed. "It would probably help if you were looking ahead."

"Yes. Yes, you're right. I was?—"

"We know what—or should I say ‘who'—you were looking at." The big grin on Antonio's face lifted his mustache.

He could feel heat burning the tips of his ears. He'd been well and truly caught. There was nothing he could do but laugh and admit the truth. "You're right. I was looking at her. Can you blame me?"

Charley shook his head. "No, son. Can't blame you at all."

"Who was that man?" he asked, unable to stop himself.

"Ryland Parrish. He's renovating the old Serenity Hotel. Nice man." That information came from Antonio, humor dancing in his dark eyes.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask where she was going with him, all dressed up, but he restrained himself. He didn't want to know, though the curiosity was killing him.

"Gentlemen." He gave a slight nod as he lifted the wheelbarrow and maneuvered it around them.

"You know, son, if you'd rather not see her leaving the house with someone else, you need to make your intentions known." Charley's voice came from behind him. "Exactly what are your intentions?"

Jake didn't stop his forward momentum, nor did he turn around and look at the man. He had no answer. Instead, he pushed the wheelbarrow toward the other side of the house and the compost heap waiting for him, but that didn't stop Charley's question from careening around his brain like balls on a billiard table.

What are my intentions?

He picked up the shovel lying across the wheelbarrow, scooped up a hefty amount of manure and tossed it on to the heap.

Court her like I would if our circumstances were different, as if I hadn't responded to that stupid advertisement and we'd just met by chance? Would she be heading into town or wherever she was going with me instead of him? Is that what I want?

Another shovelful went on to the heap. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he dropped the shovel, removed his hat, and wiped it away with his shirt sleeve. He studied the horizon for a moment, and there, in the distance, he could have sworn he saw Evie riding toward him, the wind in her hair, a beautiful—and welcoming—smile on her lips, though he knew that wasn't true. The vision faded, leaving him with a feeling of loss so deep, it hurt his heart, but in that same instant, he had his answer.

Yes, that's what I want.

"Thank you for a lovely afternoon, Ryland." Evie said as Ryland stopped the buggy near the front door and hopped out of his seat. He walked around to the other side and offered his hand to help her alight. She accepted the assistance with a smile.

"My pleasure, Evie." He dropped a kiss on her hand, then climbed into his seat and picked up the reins. "Don't forget about the concert."

"I won't. Next Saturday."

"I'll swing by to pick you up."

She watched him flick the reins and start the carriage moving. He waved one last time as he left the drive. Evie climbed the porch steps and entered the house. She took off her hat and gloves and left them on the table in the hallway, then turned in time to catch Toughie in mid-run—once again as naked as the day he was born. "Where are you going in such a hurry, little man?" She scooped him up in her arms and planted kisses on his face, despite the mud liberally spread on his cheeks and forehead. There was even mud in his hair.

"Cookie!" he exclaimed, his face wreathed in a grin.

"No, it's almost time for dinner. You can't have a cookie now." She laughed at his expression. "And where did you find mud?"

"Cookie!" he exclaimed again, although his smile was beginning to fade and his eyes squinted, probably in preparation for the big tears he was ready to cry at being told no .

Evie shook her head and started walking down the hall toward the bathroom, where she could hear Catalina still talking to the boy—who wasn't there. "No cookie. Bath time."

The boy mimicked her shake and insisted, "Cookie!"

"After dinner." She stopped at the bathroom door and saw Catalina leaning over the bathtub, testing the water with her elbow to make sure it wasn't too hot. Toughie's wet, mud- covered clothes were in a pile on the tile floor. "Did you lose someone, Cat?"

Catalina let out a sigh as she stood. "He escaped me again. I thought I closed the door."

"You probably did." She kissed the boy on the forehead. "He just knows how to open the door now."

She transferred the child to his mother then swiped the dried dirt from her dress. "Looks like he had a great time playing in the mud."

"He did. I fear Savannah and Miguel look the same, and they'll take their baths after him. He was the dirtiest."

She laughed. "Of course, he was."

"Hilde, Aunt Felicity, and I were outside on the patio, talking, and the children were right where we could see them. The next thing we knew, it had grown quiet."

"Oh, no! When children are quiet, it usually means they're up to no good."

"And they were. Up to no good. Found them by the bunkhouse, digging for all they were worth. Hilde isn't pleased they took the good spoons to dig their hole, but she couldn't be upset with them too much. She said she remembered when Heath did the same thing."

"Oh, I remember, too."

"It's an impressive hole, too. Not too deep but very wide. Savannah said they used water from the barrel outside the bunkhouse to ‘make it easier to dig'." She wiped some of the mud from Toughie's face. "I don't think this little stink pot did too much digging. Looks more like he rolled in the mud instead."

She laughed again. "He probably did. I'll leave you to it then. And you might want to lock the door this time."

Catalina nodded. "That's a very good idea."

Evie closed the door but didn't move away until she heard the lock slip into place. She glanced down at her dress and sighed. It would have to be laundered, but it wasn't the worst thing to have happen. She wasn't a stranger to mud. Or cookie crumbs. Or any of the other things children could get into, and she wouldn't trade the messiness for anything.

She went upstairs and changed, slipping into her a simple skirt and blouse, then headed to the kitchen by the back stairs.

Felicity and Hilde were there, as she knew they would be—Hilde up to her elbows in flour, punching the dough in the bowl to remove any air bubbles, and Felicity rinsing the vegetables they'd have with dinner. The smell of a roast in the oven—Felicity's favorite recipe and the one she loved to make—filled the air. Since Felicity had come to stay, she'd taken over much of the cooking, something she enjoyed doing. Truthfully, Evie was happy to let her.

Jenny and Esmeralda, who both sometimes helped in the kitchen, were nowhere to be found, but Ramón was in his highchair by the table, happily munching on a carrot. The sight made her smile.

She grabbed an apron from the hook on the pantry door, slipped it over her head, and tied the strings around her waist.

"How was your picnic with Mr. Parrish, dear?" Felicity asked, as she put the clean vegetables in a bowl and brought them to the worktable in the middle of the room, then grabbed a knife from the drawer and handed it to Evie.

Evie took the paring knife and picked one of the potatoes from the bowl. "It was lovely."

Hilde sniffed, then swiped at her nose with her wrist, leaving flour on her face. "That's it? Lovely?"

"What more would you like me to say?" The truth was, she'd spent most of the picnic thinking about Jake instead of Ryland, wishing she was back on the ranch with him. That wasn't to say Ryland was boring, he was anything but. Charming and funny, he'd regaled her all afternoon with stories of the people he'd met and the hotels he'd refurbished, and though she liked Ryland very much, he was just a friend.

"Do you like him?" Felicity asked, as she joined her at the worktable and started arranging pieces of broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots on a baking sheet.

"I do." She finished peeling the potato, quartered it, and tossed it into the pot, then chose another from the bowl. "He's charming. And very funny. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time."

"Will you be seeing him again?" Hilde removed the dough from the bowl, halved it, and arranged the dough into pans for baking, then pushed them aside to allow for the last rising. She covered both pans with dish towels, then turned her attention to Evie, an expectant smile on her face.

Evie nodded. "He invited me to a concert next Saturday. I thought I'd stay with Lucy that night and come home the following morning."

Hilde gave her that look, the one that said if she played her cards right, he could be the man she married.

Evie shook her head, denying what she saw in the woman's eyes. "No, Hilde, he doesn't plan on staying in Serenity. In fact, as soon as the hotel is finished, he'll be moving on. The man doesn't like to stay in one place for very long. He does his work and heads off to his next adventure."

"Oh." Hilde said, with such disappointment in her voice, it was hard to ignore.

"But while he's here, I see no reason why we can't be friends. In fact, I'd like that very much."

"Tia Evie!" Savannah ran into the kitchen, interrupting their conversation. She let the door slam against the wall in her exuberance. Like Toughie, she had mud on her face and clothing, some of it dry, but not all of it. Her hands were clean though, which surprised Evie. "I found this on the table outside under a rock. It's you!"

Evie stopped peeling the potato, wiped her hands on her apron, and took the sheet of paper from her grandniece. It was her, cutting roses. She remembered that evening, remembered what she'd been feeling at that moment, which was mostly guilt with a little bit of wistfulness thrown in for asking Jake to kiss her. Whoever had drawn this had managed to capture that.

She studied the sketch, looking for a signature or initials to tell her who had drawn it. There was none.

"Let me see," Felicity moved around the table to get a closer look.

Evie held up the paper.

"Oh, it's beautiful. Whoever drew this has talent. Raw talent, but quite good just the same."

"Did you see who put it on the table?" Evie asked, as her eyes took in every detail, from the basket hanging from her arm to the lace on the collar of her blouse.

Savannah shook her head, then grabbed a piece of cut broccoli from the tray and popped it into her mouth. "No, ma'am," she mumbled around the food in her mouth. "Me and Miguel and Toughie, we were…playin'."

Evie chuckled. "Yes, I heard about the hole you were digging."

"They took my best spoons to do it, too!" Hilde declared as she gave Savannah a look meant to show her disappointment but failed. Savannah simply grinned at her, showing the space where her front tooth had been up until a week ago.

Evie moved to the window, the drawing still in her hand, and looked outside. The horses were in the corral, the milk cow grazed on fresh hay in her little paddock, and the chickens pecked at the ground, except for Lucifer, who perched on top of the chicken coop. Aside from Miguel, still digging in the dirt, she didn't see another human being.

Who could have left this for me?

None of the ranch hands had ever shown a proclivity toward this sort of thing, and she'd known most of them for a long time, which left Jake and Oscar, the two she knew the least about. Had one of them left this for her? Whoever it was, the gift was rather thoughtful. And different. Never before had she received anything like this. She had a fondness for peppermints and received tins of the candy before, but this...this was special, something that would last, not like candy or flowers.

"You should put that in a frame." Felicity sidled up beside her. "Hang it up."

Evie glanced at her and said, "Yes, I think I will."