Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

E vie let herself into Peque?a Casa and closed the door behind her. She just needed a little time alone, and God knows she couldn't find that at the homestead.

Two weeks had come and gone since the morning he told her he loved her, then revealed the truth about his past and why he'd come to the ranch. Teddy had told her Jake was staying, that they couldn't afford to lose another ranch hand, and Jake had become too much a part of Monta?a del Trueno.

And so everywhere she looked, he was there. In the riding ring, continuing his lessons though she wasn't sitting on the fence watching him; chopping wood, his muscles bulging, his bare back gleaming in the sun; pushing that damned wheelbarrow from the barn to the compost heap. Taking care of the horses, his hands smoothing over their coats with such gentleness, she ached to be touched the same.

There was no escaping the man. In fact, it seemed that he turned up everywhere she happened to be, and she didn't think it was an accident.

On the contrary, she was convinced it was a damned conspiracy, perpetrated by her family. Every single one of them. The only way to truly avoid Jake was to stay locked in her room. She couldn't do that. She wouldn't. There was just simply too much to do for her to take to her bed and wallow in self-pity. And anger. Though if she was truthful with herself, she had to admit she wasn't nearly as angry as she had been for the truth he omitted. No, it was the other thing—the prospect of King finding him on the ranch, endangering her family, that frightened her, keeping her on edge, causing panic to grab hold of her heart.

On the other hand, Jake had been on the ranch for almost three months, and no one had come looking for him. Perhaps, King wasn't nearly as ruthless and persistent as Jake thought him to be. Perhaps, he wasn't looking for Jake at all. Perhaps Jake had done a good job of covering his trail.

She opened the windows to let in some fresh air, the slight breeze moving the lacy curtains, then strode toward the little sink and the long, skinny cabinet beside it. From the bottom shelf, she grabbed a bottle of liquor, not caring which one, and a glass, then pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sank into it. She poured herself a glass of the fine sipping whiskey—just a little—then poured a little more, filling the glass half-way, and placed the bottle on the table within easy reach. A vase full of cheerful yellow roses sat in the center. Someone had been here since her night with Jake. One of the boys? Marisol and Sergio?

She took a sip of whiskey. The heat flowed all the way to her stomach, spreading warmth, but did nothing to dull the pain in her heart, as her gaze flew to the open bedroom doorway and the big brass bed. Memories of their night together assaulted her. She could feel the touch of his hand, the sweetness of his kiss, the pleasure that had rocked her soul.

She shouldn't have come here. Jake was here, too.

Biting her lip, she averted her gaze from the bed and brought the glass to her lips to take another swallow. A big one. The whiskey clogged her throat, making her cough, but still, she finished what was in the glass then placed it on the table and pushed it away.

Footsteps sounded on the porch a moment before she heard a decidedly feminine giggle come through the window. "Put me down, Charley. I'm too heavy and we're both too old for you to be?—"

The rest of her sentence was cut off by the unmistakable sound of a kiss and then another giggle. "Oh, Charley."

Evie stiffened, her mouth dropping open in surprise. What were Charley and Felicity doing here?

A blush rose to her cheeks as she answered her own question. They were here for the same reason everyone else came here—stealing a moment alone. They were in their seventies! Or at least their late sixties. Surely, they didn't still….?

Perhaps, they did.

Charley's deeper voice floated through the open windows. "We're not too old, sweetheart. We'll never be too old. Besides, you don't weigh a pound more than you did the day we married."

Evie rose from the table and just stood there, not knowing where to go, wishing for all the world that she could fall through the floor and disappear. A moment later, the door swung open and there they were, Aunt Felicity in Uncle Charley's arms—like a bride being carried over the threshold. It took a moment for them to realize she stood there.

"Evie!" Charley exclaimed, his face flushing. Even the tips of his ears reddened. "We…I…wasn't expecting to see you here!"

"That much is obvious, Uncle Charley." She nodded toward her uninvited guests. "Aunt Felicity."

Felicity's face blossomed with color as well, and the smile faded from her lips. "Put me down, Charley."

He did as she asked, then took a few steps into the room, his hands on his hips, once again in full control of his composure. "What are you doing here?" He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to her. "You look like hell."

"Charley!" Felicity admonished him, her voice filled with dismay.

Leave it to Uncle Charley to state the facts as he saw them, without sugar-coating his words. Evie couldn't refute his statement. How could she? She did look like hell. Dark circles were under her eyes from not sleeping. Unless, of course, she'd been crying, which she seemed to be doing a lot of within the last two weeks, and then her eyes were all puffy and red.

"Thank you, Uncle Charley." She took the handkerchief and swiped at her eyes, which had started watering again. "I feel like hell. And a fool."

"A fool? No, you were never a fool, Evie." Sympathy flashed in his light blue eyes. "What happened between you and Jake?"

She shook her head and sank into the chair she had recently vacated. "Teddy was right. He is a maverick, following his own rules." She glanced at Felicity then turned away, unable to stomach the empathy in the woman's eyes, then poured more whiskey and took a big gulp. It burned her throat, but she didn't care. "Teddy warned me that he'd break my heart. I didn't listen." She gave a rueful laugh, though it sounded more like a choked cry to her own ears. "Oh, no, I just had to be stubborn, like I always am."

Charley squeezed her shoulder, offering comfort, which only made the ache in her throat worse. "Tell me," he said, his voice soft and full of affection.

She could always count on Uncle Charley. He was level-headed and calm. He would listen without judgment. "He lied to me."

"What did he lie about?"

"Everything." She let out a huff, still reeling from the truths Jake had admitted. "His past. The reason he came here." She pulled in a deep breath, frustrated with the lump in her throat which made doing so difficult, even more annoyed with the tears that kept leaking from her eyes, no matter how many times she wiped them. "It wasn't about wanting to get married. Not at all. He was looking for a place to hide."

"I see." He took a moment before he spoke. "That may be why he came here, but it isn't why he stayed. He didn't have to tell you." His voice changed, becoming deeper and more authoritative, as if she were on trial and he needed answers. "What about you? When you found out about Lucy's plan, you were one hundred percent against marrying anyone."

"That is true. I was. I was perfectly happy, content with my life."

"Hmmm, you say that, but were you?" He pulled out a chair and gestured to his wife to sit.

"Hush, Charley. You talk too much." Felicity caressed his shoulder, then took the seat he offered. She looked up at him, her face reflecting all the love she had for him. A fresh wave of tears filled Evie's eyes just seeing that expression. "That's what made you such a great lawyer, and an even better judge, but now is not the time." Felicity turned to Evie and demanded, "Do you love him?"

"What?"

"It's a simple question, dear. Do you love him?" This time Felicity's voice was stronger as she enunciated each word. "The truth now. What's in your heart, not your head."

"I do."

"Can you live with knowing why Jake came here? Can you live with his past?"

She nodded. She could. It was the other issue, the problem that seemed to be much more difficult to reconcile. "There's more," she said. "Something you don't know." She narrowed her eyes. "Or maybe you do." Her gaze flicked to Charley. "Maybe you do as well. There isn't much that happens here that you don't know." She scrutinized his expression, but as usual, Charley's face told her nothing. Whatever he thought or knew he kept to himself. She sniffed then used the handkerchief to wipe her eyes and focused on Felicity once more. "There's a man who might be looking for Jake. According to him, this man is ruthless and isn't above killing people. If he finds Jake here, it could put all of us in danger. The children…everyone." She couldn't continue, her heart constricting with fear.

"Why is that man looking for Jake?"

"Jake won a lot of money from him playing poker, enough, he said, to buy this ranch twice over. Apparently, that was an unforgiveable sin. That man—King—wants a rematch and isn't willing to take ‘no' for an answer, but even if Jake agrees, he could still end up—" she shivered, unable to finish.

Felicity shook her head. "My girl, I'm going to tell you what my mother used to tell me. Don't borrow trouble."

"What does that mean?"

"It means don't fret and worry over something that may never be." She reached for the bottle of whiskey on the table. "Charley, dear, would you get me a glass, please?"

He did as she asked, but brought two glasses to the table instead of one, and took a seat. Felicity poured a generous amount for all of them, put the bottle down and took a sip. "It's been how many months since Jake has been here?"

"A little more than three. He arrived the day Lucy and Ben married."

"And that man hasn't shown up, has he?" She didn't wait for an answer. "To my way of thinking, if that man truly wanted to find Jake, he'd have been here already. Nothing would have stopped him. He would have talked to all of Jake's friends in—where is he from?"

"San Francisco."

Felicity gave a slight nod. "That man would have frequented all the places that Jake would. He might have even hired someone like the Pinkertons, but the point is, Jake would have been found by now."

"How do you know?"

She shrugged, her eyes brightening, her smile widening. "It's what I would have done. It's what Charley would have done. In fact, he has, in the past, utilized the Pinkertons for a case." She glanced at her husband, love shining in her eyes, then turned her attention back to Evie.

"I hadn't thought of it that way. You may be right. Three months is a long time."

"Ask yourself, how you would feel if he left?" Again, she didn't leave room for Evie to respond. Instead, she reached over and grasped Evie's hand, squeezing it. "I think you should forgive him. Not for him, but for you. You deserve every bit of happiness you can find."

Evie glanced at the strong hand holding hers, then back at Felicity. "What about that man?"

Again, the woman shrugged, an elegant lifting of her shoulders, then released her hand and sat back in her seat. "Let him come."

"Let him come?" Evie jumped from the chair, nearly knocking it over, and started pacing. "Are you insane! What about the children? And the rest of you?" She couldn't believe Felicity would say such a thing.

"There isn't a person on this ranch who would let anything happen to the children, Evie. You know that. As for Jake, I don't think anyone here would hesitate to defend him—myself included, if—and I mean if —that man should come here. Even if he does come here, I doubt he would try to kill Jake. Or anyone else for that matter." She smiled then and her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "He can't win his money back from a dead man." She rose from her seat and pushed Evie toward the door. "Now you go and think about it."

"But—" Evie sputtered, but never finished. Propelled by a strength she didn't know Felicity possessed, she tried to stop the momentum, but couldn't, not until she stood on the porch, the hands pushing her suddenly gone.

"No ‘buts,' my girl. Go. Take a long walk and think about everything I've said." The door closed in her face.

Evie stood on the porch, stunned Felicity could be so forceful, and just stared at the closed door. Who knew behind the sweetness Felicity showed the world was a woman with backbone. Of strong conviction. Of uncommon strength.

Reeling from Felicity's actions, Evie reached for the doorknob. She had every intention of stalking back into the cottage, and continuing the conversation, but changed her mind when she heard Charley's voice coming through the open window. "You should have been a lawyer."

Felicity laughed before there was the unmistakable sound of a kiss being given. "I didn't spend all those years in the courtroom with you and not learn anything."

Evie hung her head for a moment, then left Peque?a Casa , taking the path that would lead her back to the homestead, Felicity's words echoing in her head.

Her life would never be the same if Jake weren't in it. And yet, she didn't know if she could forgive him for the lie he told—or didn't tell—or for the possibly of putting her family in peril. For the first time in a long time, she'd found love, and she didn't want to give it up, but how could she trust him again? Would she suspect every word that came out of his mouth from now on?

What if King came looking for Jake? Would he? The only person who could answer that was Jake. Her pace quickened.

She didn't see Jake in the corral, nor walking across the compound pushing the wheelbarrow. He wasn't in the barn, either. She continued to the house, passing between the rose bushes, and stopped. The table on the patio was set up with the silver coffee service reserved for company or special occasions.

Had she forgotten she had invited guests today? What was today anyway? Tuesday? Friday? She'd lost all track of time as one day seemed to flow to the next.

Savannah came out of the house, carrying a plate of Hilde's cookies. She stopped briefly and gave Evie such a glare, Evie took a step back. Savannah laid the plate on the table and turned, her dark eyes full of reproach. She placed her hands on her hips in perfect imitation of Teddy. Savannah was definitely her father's daughter, right down to that intense stare. "Where have you been?"

Nothing like getting scolded by a six-year-old child. "I went for a walk." She glanced at the table. "Did I forget something? Did we have a date?"

The girl shook her head, making her long braids move over her shoulders.

"Then what is all this?"

Savannah huffed, like Evie was the dumbest woman alive, her hands still on her hips, that intense stare never losing focus. "It's for you and Mr. Jake. You have to talk."

"Me and Jake? Oh carina , it?—"

The girl didn't let her finish, though she wasn't rude. "Isn't that what you make me and Miguel do? You make us talk to each other. You make us ‘resolve our differences.'" She huffed again in exasperation. "Isn't that what you always say?"

"It is." Evie was a little taken aback, not only by the fact that Savannah, her sweet and inquisitive grandniece was acting like an adult, but that she'd actually been listening and learning all these years. Still, the circumstances were much different than when she and her brother were arguing, and she stated so. "This is different, carina ."

"No, it's not." Savannah shook her head. Ah, the stubbornness of the Miller ancestry came shining through. "It's not different at all, Tia Evie. I like Mr. Jake. You do, too. I saw you kissing him."

Heat rushed to her face. "You did?"

The girl nodded. "A couple times."

The corners of her mouth began to lift, almost beyond her control, as her gaze swept over her grandniece. "When did you get so smart?"

The girl smiled at her finally, unable, it seemed, to keep up the glare her father was so famous for. A hint of white showed in the space where her missing tooth had been. "I'm always smart. Mama says so. Tia Jenny says so. You say so, too." Her smile widened. "I'm going to be a lawyer like Uncle Charley when I grow up. Or a doctor, like Uncle Ben." She pulled out a chair and ordered. "Sit. Your guest will be here any minute."

Evie did as she was told, amazed that this precious little girl had outsmarted her. She didn't doubt for one moment the girl would be anything she wanted to be—whether a doctor, a lawyer, or anything else.

As she grabbed a napkin and laid it over her lap, Evie looked around. No one was about, but she didn't doubt Hilde, and possibly, Antonio, were at the kitchen window, watching and waiting. Perhaps, her nephews' wives as well. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if her nephews watched too, although they should be out at the summer pasture. She looked down at the table, and studied the blood-red roses in the vase, her stomach already knotting.

"Hello, Evie."

His voice, deep and rich—the one that haunted her dreams—drew her attention. Evie started, then turned her head, and just looked at him. He had changed from his work clothes into the suit she'd first seen him in, and he looked so handsome she had trouble concentrating. Right beside him was Miguel, wearing a grin that stretched from ear to ear. The boy's hand was clasped in his much larger one and that, more than anything else, melted her heart.

Jake Hannigan was a good man in all the ways that mattered. He'd proven that over and over again.

"Now talk to each other." Savannah ordered in such an imperious way, Evie tore her gaze from Jake and just stared at her. The girl smiled, obviously pleased with herself, then grabbed her brother by the hand. "Come on, Miguel." They went as far as the swing, settling themselves on the soft cushions. Apparently they were going to chaperone this little tete-a-tete, probably determined to stay until she and Jake made up.

Jake, his attention briefly on Savannah, smiled, then turned his devastating, utterly too charming grin on her. "She's quite the force to be reckoned with."

"Yes, she is. Stubborn, too."

"So is Miguel." He gestured to the chair opposite her. "May I?"

"Of course. I don't think either one of the children would forgive us if we didn't follow through on their plans."

He slid into the seat, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. His eyes were warm and filled with regret…and something else, something she recognized when she looked in her own mirror. "I'm sorry, Evie. I should have told you everything right from the beginning."

"Yes." The anger was still there, even with his apology. "You should have told me about King. About your past. More than that, you shouldn't have lied to me. Maybe I over-reacted, but you have to understand, the last man who lied to me died. I can't forget that."

She searched his face, reminding herself that he wasn't Tom, and admitted. "I'm afraid, Jake, that you'll lie to me again and hurt me. Or end up like Tom. I don't know if I could bear that."

He reached across the table and laid his hand over hers, squeezing her fingers ever so slightly. "I promise, I'll never lie to you again, even if it's a lie of omission. I'll tell you anything you want to know." His eyes held a slight sheen of moisture. "I love you, Evie. Please say you forgive me. If you can't, I'll go, but I don't want to. I'd much rather stay and spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you."

Her heart hitched with longing and tears blurred her vision. He was promising forever, and he meant it. Every word. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice, and the vision of them sitting together when they were old and gray, watching the sun sink into the horizon, flashed through her head. He would leave Monta?a del Trueno and take that dream away if she asked him.

She couldn't do it, couldn't say the words. The simple truth was that she loved this man, loved him with all her being, faults and all, but still, there was one more thing she needed to know. "What about King? What if he should come here?"

"I would give my life before I allowed him to hurt anyone on this ranch, Evie. You have my promise."

Yes, she believed him. He'd never let any harm come to them. She twisted her hand beneath his, weaved her fingers between his strong digits, and whispered, "I want you to stay."