Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

E vie patted her hair one last time, pulled on her work gloves, grabbed her favorite sun hat, old and battered as it was, and left her room. A ride out to the summer pasture, where the horses and cattle were, sounded like a fine idea when Teddy had mentioned it at breakfast. He'd said he wanted her advice on which of the two-year-old horses to train next, but she knew it was just a ruse. Teddy was perfectly capable of choosing which horses were ready. He'd been doing it a long time, though he now left the actual training up to her and Antonio unless he thought it necessary to step in. She wasn't needed in the daily work on the ranch, not like the old days when she'd been out every day.

No, she suspected that his invitation had more to do with making sure she and Jake kept their distance.

Teddy was taking his self-imposed role of protector much too seriously. She'd had the discussion with him the morning after the storm, once again made it clear that if she wanted to get to know Jake Hannigan better, she would. He hadn't been happy about that, but in the bright light of day he had accepted her arguments. At least he seemed to.

Whatever the reason for the invitation today, she felt that rush of anticipation she always felt when planning to ride out to the summer pasture. It had been a few days and she missed riding as much as she used to. Funny to think when she first arrived at the ranch, she couldn't ride at all. Her father hadn't thought it was a seemly pursuit for a young lady. Her first experience had been unnerving, but Antonio, bless his heart, had helped, guiding her, teaching her, until she became an accomplished horsewoman. Now, if she couldn't ride every couple of days, she felt antsy, like she had too much energy and no way to expend it.

The sounds of the house in full swing of the morning routine made her smile. She could clearly hear Hilde's voice coming from the kitchen, admonishing little Miguel for stealing a lebkuchen she'd just made, and that child's infectious giggle. There was no such thing as quiet in the casa , not with four little ones in residence, but it was music to her ears, reminding her of days long past.

As much as she loved it, perhaps it was time to move into Peque?a Casa , the original homestead, just a short walk through the cottonwoods and walnut trees west of the barn, and give this one over to the next generation. Teddy and his wife already had three children, a girl and two boys—Savannah, Miguel, and the baby, Ramón.

Esteban had one, a rough-and-tumble son affectionately called Toughie. At thirteen months, he was a handful. He never walked, really. He just stood up one day and started running…and he hadn't stopped. Catalina, Esteban's wife, had recently announced that another child was on the way. She was hoping for a girl, one who didn't run as fast as Toughie.

And Heath, the youngest of Gina's boys, only married a year, was, as he said, trying to keep up with his older brothers, though as yet, all the fun was in the practicing, much to the embarrassment of his former schoolteacher wife, Jenny.

The big house was bursting at the seams, filled, as it had always been, with love and laughter. Antonio and Hilde had their own little house on the ranch and loved their quiet time. When the children were running and screaming through the house, as they were wont to do, Antonio and Hilde could escape to their sanctuary of peace and quiet, where they sat on the porch in rocking chairs, he whittling, and she either reading or knitting, her favorite forms of relaxation.

Uncle Charley and Aunt Felicity were currently staying in one of the guest rooms down the hall, but were debating on whether to stay and build a small house on the ranch or one in Serenity. Either decision would be fine with her. As long as they didn't go back to San Francisco. She rather liked having them close.

She'd miss this house, though, the familiar creaks and groans, the smell of lemon oil rubbed into the paneling over the years, the third tread from the bottom of the staircase that squeaked when one stepped on it. She'd been happy here. The thought of leaving filled her with anxiety, but maybe it was time.

The alternative was to arrange for the children, though they were hardly children, and their spouses to build their own homes, the way they wanted, on the property. There was more than enough land to do so. Monta?a del Trueno was a small town unto itself with so many outbuildings. Two or three more wouldn't make much of a difference.

She ran her hand along the polished banister as she made her way downstairs. Ana met her at the bottom.

"Miss Evie, you have a visitor. He's waiting in the parlor."

"Who is it, Ana?"

The woman shrugged. "He did not give his name, but he said you were expecting him."

Dear Lord, another potential suitor? Hopefully not. "Thank you, Ana. I'll be there in a moment. Would you please bring us some coffee? And some of the lebkuchen Hilde made, if there are any left."

Ana stopped. "I put some aside just for you, before the children ate them all."

"Thank you." She pulled off her gloves and shoved them in her pocket as she continued down the hall, trying, unsuccessfully, to tame the uneasiness growing in her stomach.

She left her hat on the small table beside the door and entered the formal parlor. Her gaze settled on an older man, his hands folded behind his back as he studied the family photographs in their silver frames crowded onto every available space on a long table in front of the windows.

He was a big man, much bigger than both Jake and Oscar, but not necessarily in a good way. The suit jacket he wore, while in good condition, was old, and seemed to be stretched too tight across his shoulders and back, obviously too small for his frame. There was a tear at the shoulder, which had been mended, but repaired in such a way she knew it had not been professionally done. His hair hadn't been professionally cut either. Wild and bushy, and much too long, she guessed this man did not visit the barber on a regular basis, and took scissors to his locks himself, as evidenced by the unevenness. "Hello. May I help you?"

He turned quickly and her attention was drawn to the big, bushy mustache on his upper lip, reminding her very much of the pictures she'd seen of walruses. His eyebrows matched that mustache. They, too, were big and bushy, like woolly caterpillars had settled on his forehead above his small, round eyes. Both brows and mustache were dark threaded with silver. A lot of silver. The hair on his head, too, held more silver than dark brown. "Are you Miss Everleigh Miller?"

"Yes."

"Horace Quinn. A pleasure to meet you," he announced in a booming voice too big for the small room as he lumbered across the carpet and grabbed her hand. Instead of shaking it, he dropped a kiss on her knuckles, leaving wetness on her skin. It was all she could do not to pull her hand from his grasp and wipe it on her skirt. She expected wet, slobbery kisses from the children, not from a grown man.

"Please, have a seat, and tell me why you're here." As if she didn't already know. Her stomach clenched.

He squeezed himself into the chair, the same one Oscar had occupied just a few days ago. He, at least, did not jostle the table or knock over Miguel's picture. "Come now, Miss Miller. You know why I'm here. Your letter stated you were looking for a husband." He was blunt, she'd give him that. No beating around the bush, no attempt to even pretty up his words. "I'm here in answer to that request."

"Ah, the letter. I should probably explain about that, Mr. Quinn. I actually didn't write that letter or the advertisement that prompted your correspondence. It was my niece, Lucy, on my behalf. I had no idea she'd done such a thing. I'm not?—"

"I have a successful hardware store in Santa Fe with several employees. And a big house, fully paid for, in the nicest section of town." He spoke over her, as if he hadn't heard her at all. "Of course, once we're married, we can work in the store together. Why pay someone, right?" He laughed and leaned a little closer, as close as he could get with the table between them. She caught a whiff of his breath and pulled away from the offensive smell.

"Mr. Quinn, I?—"

"I'm assuming you know how to cook, yes? And keep house?"

"Mr. Quinn?—"

He kept right on talking, didn't bother to sugar-coat his intentions at all, and the only thing she could see was that bushy mustache and his wet lips. She shuddered, barely able to keep her composure.

"Mr. Quinn!"

"We can be married right away. I took the liberty of making arrangements with the Justice of the Peace in Santa Fe. He's waiting for us." He stood abruptly, as if by saying the words, it would be done. "We should leave now. If we do, we can be back at the store before my employees steal me blind."

As well as being blunt, he was forceful, too. And assumed much too much. He didn't want a wife. He was looking for cheap labor to work in his store, instead of employees who he thought would steal from him. He wanted someone to keep his house, without having to pay for it. And warm his bed, too.

He couldn't have been more wrong—about everything—and while other women may have jumped at his offer, such as it was, she wasn't one of them. She'd never leave Monta?a del Trueno.

She was about to try to tell him that she wasn't interested in marriage when Toughie ran into the room with a high squeal, completely naked, Hilde's lebkuchen in both hands.

"Share!" he shouted, as he jumped in her lap and shoved the cookie at her face. Evie pretended to take a small bite of the soggy cookie, much to the boy's delight, then kissed his forehead, the only place on his face that didn't have cookie crumbs.

She glanced over Toughie's head. The expression of horror on Mr. Quinn's face was almost too much. He sank heavily in the chair as if in shock, the thin spindly chair legs creaking under his weight.

"Is he...yours?" he whispered, terror in his voice.

"In a manner of speaking. He's my grandnephew, Tomas, but we all call him Toughie."

There was obvious relief on Mr. Quinn's face. What was even more obvious, to her at least, was that he didn't like children. In fact, they seemed to scare him more than a rattlesnake ready to strike. She smiled sweetly, kissed the top of Toughie's head, and looked directly at him. "But I love children. I'd like to have a few of my own. At least half a dozen."

And again, the terror in Mr. Quinn's expression was back as quickly as it had been gone. Worse, Toughie chose that moment to slide from her lap and toddle over to him, cookie crumb hands and all.

"Share!" The boy shouted, and offered one of the treats to Mr. Quinn. The big man actually recoiled, trying, unsuccessfully, to pull away from the boy and the soggy cookie. His small eyes were now huge in his face, caterpillar eyebrows rising up to his hairline.

"We're teaching him how to share. Pretend to take a bite," she suggested, as the big man's face paled, making his mustache and eyebrows stand out in stark relief. .

Catalina, Toughie's mother came rushing into the room, and stopped. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Tia Evie! I didn't know you had company." She made a beeline for her son and scooped him up. "He escaped me. Again. I turned my back for one minute and he was gone."

"He is fast, I'll give him that, but it's all right. No harm done." She laughed and rose to her feet, tweaking the boy's cheek with all the affection she had for him. "He was sharing."

"He was?" Catalina asked, a little surprised, then kissed the boy's cheek. "You were sharing?" The boy nodded eagerly and offered her a bite of the cookie.

Mr. Quinn sprang up from his chair, an expression of horror on his face. "Madam, I'm afraid we won't suit. Good day!" He gave a slight bow, then rushed from the room like his hair was on fire. She was certain the man had never moved so fast in his life.

"Who was that man?"

Evie laughed. "That was Mr. Horace Quinn, another potential husband Lucy chose for me."

Her eyes, framed by thick black lashes, widened. "You're joking, right?"

"No, I'm afraid I'm not." Evie led the way out of the parlor, Catalina following closely behind. Evie grabbed her hat from the table and placed it on her head.

"What was she thinking?" Catalina shook her head, her lips pursing together for a moment. "That man is not who I would have chosen for you."

Evie squelched a groan, suspicion rising in her mind, as she voiced her question. "Were you in on the husband hunt, too?"

"Well, not exactly. Lucy had mentioned it." Toughie squirmed in her arms and tried to escape, but she held him tightly, which didn't please him at all. "But I told her she shouldn't do it."

"Just for curiosity's sake, what kind of man would you have chosen for me?"

The smile disappeared from Catalina's face as she considered the question. "He'd have to be kind. And love children and animals." She thought for a moment longer, and said, "He should be handsome, but that's not the most important thing. He'd have to have a sense of humor."

Funny, Catalina described Jake Hannigan. He was kind. And he did like children. More importantly, they seemed to like him. She'd seen Miguel and Savannah sitting on bales of hay and pestering him with questions as he mucked out the barn, and she was impressed with the way he interacted with them. He answered all their questions patiently, which said a lot. One could easily get frustrated with Savannah, for whom every answer had three more questions. To say the girl was inquisitive would be an understatement.

Animals liked him as well, as evidenced by Flower, who jumped into his lap every time the man sat down. Apparently, the cat also slept with him, settling at the foot of Jake's bunk, or so Grub had told her, and the other cats and the dog followed him as he went about his chores, hoping for a bit of affection, which he supplied without hesitation. Even the horses liked him, quickly running up to the side of the corral as he passed by.

And he was handsome, with his black hair liberally streaked with silver and startling tawny eyes. His smile still did funny things to her insides. The only thing she didn't know about yet was his sense of humor.

"Let's go take that nap, young man." Catalina gave her son an affectionate squeeze but didn't dare let him down. He'd be off in a shot, faster than a bullet leaving the barrel. "You know, Tia Evie, if I'm not mistaken, I believe there's someone here who has all those qualities."

"And who would that be?"

"Why, Mr. Hannigan, of course." And with that, she walked down the hall to her room, leaving Evie to stare at her departing back in wonder, as if the woman had read her mind. Toughie waved a cookie at her before he took a big bite, his grin spreading as crumbs floated to the floor. She'd have to sweep them up before they became imbedded in the carpet runner.

After cleaning up the crumbs, Evie headed into the kitchen. Hilde had the coffee service spread out on its silver tray on the butcher block worktable and was just finishing pouring the brew into the server. Steam rose, scenting the air with her wonderful coffee.

Aunt Felicity sat at the table, the latest issue of the Ladies' Home Journal and Practical Housekeeper spread out before her. Her hat and a pair of gloves were within easy reach, as if she was just waiting to head out. She smiled and offered her cheek. Evie obliged and planted a light kiss on her pale skin, though it was obvious, she had interrupted their conversation. It was also apparent, by the pinkish glow on Felicity's cheek, that she—and her recent visitor—were the subjects of that discussion.

"I was just going to have Ana bring in the coffee." Hilde glanced in her direction. Her cheeks, too, held a slightly pink hue, confirming Evie's suspicions.

"No need. Mr. Quinn has left."

Hilde stilled, the coffee pot still in her hand. "So you chased off another one?"

"Another one? How can you say that? Mr. Hannigan and Mr. Pe?a are still here. Besides, I didn't chase Mr. Quinn off at all. He left of his own accord. Rather quickly, I might add."

"Oh? And you had nothing to do with that?"

Evie laughed. "Actually, I didn't. It was Toughie."

"Toughie?" The woman's hazel eyes narrowed, and she could just see the wheels of her mind turning.

"Yes, Toughie. It appears Mr. Quinn doesn't like children. I think they scare him. At least, that's the impression I got. He wanted me to leave Monta?a del Trueno—today, I might add—and work in his store. He even had the audacity to arrange for a Justice of the Peace to marry us in Santa Fe this afternoon." She shuddered, thinking about his wet lips on her hand. "Thankfully, Toughie saved me. And just in time, too." She picked up one of the lebkucken Hilde had arranged on a plate and took a bite. "I think I'll go for that ride now and meet up with Teddy."

Hilde gave a non-committal grunt, then poured herself a cup of coffee. She joined Aunt Felicity at the table, but didn't say anything, which was unusual—Hilde always seemed to have an opinion.

"You two can go back to talking about me."

"We weren't talking about you, dear," Aunt Felicity said, but the blush on her cheek deepened.

Evie didn't believe her, but that was neither here nor there. If her oldest friends wanted to talk about her, well, that was fine. She imagined they had a good laugh at her expense considering the circumstances. She'd find it amusing too—if it wasn't happening to her—but she would have a talk with Lucy, find out why she'd done this thing, and how many more prospective husbands would show up.

She walked across the lawn toward the barn. None of the cats were wandering around, neither was the dog. Jake wasn't there either. In fact, the barnyard was completely empty. The barn doors, as well as all the windows, were wide open to let in fresh air. Her horse Spitfire, along with Clementine, Horatio, and the draft horses, were in the corral next to the barn. Petunia, the milk cow, was in her own little paddock, munching on some fresh hay.

Spitfire saw her coming and raced to the fence. "Are you ready for a ride?" she asked, as she ran her fingers lightly over Spitfire's long nose.

The horse chuffed in answer, blowing hot air through her nostrils, then pawed the ground with her right hoof, sending puffs of dust into the air. Evie removed the rope that held the gate in place and swung it open. "Come on, then." The horse stepped through the open gate, then stayed, as she'd been trained, for Evie to close it, then took a few steps toward the barn. While Spitfire waited, Evie headed down the central aisle toward the tack room at the back of the barn. She grabbed a blanket and slung it over her shoulder, then looped the bridle and reins around her arm and hefted the saddle off the sawhorse, lugging it back outside.

"Let me help you with that."

Evie turned quickly to face Jake as he took the saddle from her. She took a step back. "Oh, Mr. Hannigan!" She paused. Was it possible he was more handsome now than the night in the barn? She particularly liked the way the sunlight brought out the strands of silver in his dark hair.

"Jake, please," he reminded her once again. "I wanted to apologize again if my being in the barn with you caused an argument between you and Teddy."

"Did he say something to you?"

"No, but there was this look in his eyes this morning. It was the same look as yesterday morning. And the morning before that." He chuckled. "Actually, it's no different than the look I've been getting since I got here."

"A look? You mean his lips pressed together, eyes narrowed and shooting daggers, the muscle near his eye twitching? I've been on the receiving end of that look before."

"Oh, he wasn't happy. That much was clear, but at the same time, I definitely saw some humor in his expression as well." He placed the saddle on Spitfire.

"Humor? That doesn't sound right. I'll talk to him again."

"No need. He is protecting you…from me. I understand. I just wish I could make him see that I would never hurt you, Evie." His gaze swept over her face. It was almost as if he touched her. "I would protect you, just like he would. I imagine everyone here would do the same."

He tightened the cinches, then bent over and laced his hands, providing a step for her. Evie placed her foot into his hands and her hand on his shoulder, the muscles beneath his skin hard and unyielding and so warm, and lifted herself into the saddle. He adjusted the stirrups, making sure her feet were positioned correctly. Was it just her imagination or did she actually feel the heat of his hand through her boot?

She looked down from the saddle, focusing on his mouth as he smiled up at her and her heart melted a little. He said he would protect her. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, ma'am." He grinned that devastating grin, his amber eyes crinkling at the corners, and for an insane moment, she wanted to slide from the saddle and into his arms. She wanted to press her lips to his and kiss him. Instead, she turned away, nudged Spitfire, and rode out of the barnyard to meet up with Teddy, but that didn't stop her from feeling the heat of his gaze. Or imagining what could be.

Jake stood in the barnyard, his attention focused on the horizon, long after Evie disappeared from view.

"How are you getting along here, son?"

He turned to see Charley leaning against one of the fence posts. How long had he been standing there?

"Fine, sir."

The older man moved away from the fence and walked toward him, hands on his hips, eyes squinted against the sun. "She is something, isn't she?"

"Who?"

Charley stopped beside him, a grin that said ‘you know exactly who I'm talking about' hovering about his mouth. "Evie. I've known her from the moment she was born. Her sister Regina, too. Their mother, Victoria, was a dear friend. The girls' father, too, by extension, though he and I didn't see eye to eye very often. I hated how he disowned both his daughters, but there was no changing his mind, and believe me, I argued." He pulled his hat a little lower, blocking out the glaring rays of the sun. "She's a good woman, Evie. Not many would have given up what she did for her sister."

"No, sir. They would not."

"Even fewer would have put their lives on hold to raise the children." He gave him a direct look. "Felicity and I love her like a daughter."

Ah, there it was. Not a threat, like Antonio and Teddy had given him, but a warning just the same. Clear and unmistakable. Jake glanced at the older gentleman, only to find himself on the receiving end of a very thorough scrutiny, almost as methodical and complete as any he'd received from Teddy and Esteban.

Charley's intent was apparent—don't hurt Evie.

Warning noted. "I just want you to know that I would never hurt Miss Evie."

"You'd better not."

Jake acknowledged the statement with a nod.

"Felicity and I are heading into town."

"I'll get the buggy." Jake said, before the man even asked.

"Thank you. I appreciate that, son."

Jake walked into the corral and retrieved Winston, one of the draft horses, from its confines. The man's eyes remained on him as he led the horse toward the building behind the barn.

It didn't take long to harness Winston to the buggy, nor wipe down the seats with an old rag. He brought the buggy around to the rose arbor at the end of the garden path where Charley waited for his wife.

Felicity came out of the house and approached them with a wide smile. "Good afternoon, Mr. Hannigan."

"Good morning, Miss Felicity. Don't you look lovely."

The woman blushed, the redness spreading over her cheeks as she reached up to adjust the ribbon holding her hat in place. "Thank you, Mr. Hannigan."

"Are you ready, dear?"

She gave her husband a slight nod and a smile. A loving smile. There was no other word for it. No one had ever smiled at him that way.

He started to assist Felicity into the buggy, but Charley took his wife's hand first and helped her, then made sure she was settled comfortably before he trotted around to the other side of the buggy and climbed in.

As Charley flicked the reins and started the vehicle moving, Felicity faced him. "Have a lovely afternoon, Mr. Hannigan."

"Thank you, Miss Felicity. You as well."

He watched the buggy until it disappeared from view, his hands on his hips, his lips pressed together in thought. There had been such love in Felicity's smile for her husband and such devotion on Charley's face when he looked at his wife.

Is that what a loving relationship looked like? He had no experience to draw from. That wasn't to say he wasn't fond of women. He was. Tremendously. And there were some in his past, former lovers whom he now considered friends, but not one of them had ever looked at him like that.

Charley and Felicity weren't the only ones, either. He'd seen that expression of love and devotion on the faces of all the couples around him. Antonio and Hilde. Heath and his Jenny. Teddy and Esmeralda. Even Esteban, who spoke very little, more than made up for his lack of speech when he gazed upon Catalina…and she returned his expression, as if words were unnecessary.

Is that what I want?

The plain, honest truth was…he didn't know. One does not miss what one has never had, but one could definitely want . Could Evie be the woman he'd been waiting for all his life, though he hadn't known it? Could she be what had been missing, even though he had everything he thought he wanted. He wasn't sure, had never really thought about it until Father O'Malley reprimanded him for his way of life, convincing him that it was time to put away the cards and become respectable. Was he worthy of her? Could he offer her more than what she already had? He had no family except for Father O'Malley and the good Sisters. And he had a past, one he knew Evie wouldn't approve of. She despised gambling after losing her sister the way she had.

Shaking his head as if that would help his thoughts roll into the right place, he strolled back toward the barn.