“TiaEvie? Who are you talking to?”
Recognizing the voice of her niece, she schooled her features to hide her emotions, and turned away from the table, silverware clutched in her hand. Lucy stood before her, resplendent in her traveling ensemble of green and gold, her long, deep-brown hair pulled away from her face in an intricate style, reminding her so much of her mother when Regina was young.
“What are you doing back here,mi corazón? I thought you’d left already.”
She came forward and grasped Evie’s hand, happiness glowing on her face. And why wouldn’t she be happy? Just a few hours ago she’d married the man she loved since she was a child.
“We did,” Lucy said, “but we turned around. I couldn’t leave without thanking you.”
“Thanking me? For what?”
Lucy grinned, though there was something a little odd about her smile—like she had a secret she couldn’t wait to tell. “For the beautiful wedding and your generous gift. Ben and I are thrilled with the house in Serenity.” She paused, her mocha brown eyes shiny with tears. “But mostly, I thank you for loving me. I don’t remember Mama. I was so very young when she died, but you…you have always been there for me, loved me even when I was unlovable…you loved all of us, and I just wanted you to know how grateful I am. We all are. You’re the best mother a woman could ever have.” She wrapped her arms around her. “I love you,TiaEvie.”
Evie sniffed back the sudden onslaught of tears, though the truth was those tears hadn’t been very far away and hugged her. “I love you, too,mi dulce angel.” She released her and coughed to hide the tightness in her throat. “Now, go, before I make a complete fool of myself.”
Lucy kissed her cheek, then turned quickly and ran toward her husband waiting at the edge of the garden, near the gate. She waved once, then called out, words Evie couldn’t quite make out, something about enjoying a gift and then she laughed. There was no denying the happiness on Lucy’s face as she linked her arm through Ben’s, and they disappeared around the side of the house.
Evie stood there, emotion tightening her throat, her gaze focused on the spot she’d last seen them, then turned her attention back to the mess that wouldn’t clean itself. She dropped the silverware on the table, pulled a handkerchief fromthe sleeve of her dress where it met her wrist, and dabbed at her eyes, but she still smiled. Lucy was proof she’d done a good job after all, despite her doubts. The children had been so young when she’d first come to the ranch. They’d all grown to be responsible, intelligent adults. They knew they’d been loved. She couldn’t ask for more.
She piled more plates into a stack, added a handful of silverware, and brought everything into the house. She scraped the remnants of food into the slop bucket for the pigs before placing the dishes into the sink full of soapy water.
Hilde, elbows deep in that soapy water, turned to glance at her and opened her mouth. “I meant what I said, Evie. You should find someone of your own.”
“I’m done talking about it, Hilde.”
“But—”
“No. I am fine as I am. I’m happy. In truth, I’m not interested in finding a husband, but if it’s fated for me to marry, then I will. In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop pestering me about it.” She leaned over and kissed the woman on the cheek. “I know you’re looking out for me. I know you want me to be as happy as you and Antonio are. And I love you for it, but I’ve accepted the fact that what you have may not be in the cards for me. And I’m not willing to gamble my heart again.”
Before Hilde could say another word, Evie fled the kitchen and headed back outside, where there was still more to be done. Feeding the nearly one hundred people had taken days to prepare and necessitated borrowing glasses, silverware, and the like from her friends.
She piled more plates one on top of the other, turned to head back into the house, and stopped.
A man—a complete stranger—stood not twenty feet from her, hat in hand—the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Black hair, though there was gray at his temples, which looked likereflected hints of polished silver beneath the sun’s glare. He was tall, too, much taller than her five-foot seven-inch frame. And for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. Indeed, she couldn’t even blink. Afraid she might drop the stack of dishes, she clenched her hands, gripping the plates tightly.
Her mouth opened, but no words issued forth, like they were stuck in her throat—her suddenly dry throat.
He walked toward her. Well, not walked, but sort of sauntered, like he hadn’t a care in the world, his long legs eating up the ground between them in short order. Startling amber eyes captured her attention. And then he smiled.
Her lungs figured out how to function as she drew in air. His smile was, in no uncertain terms, devastating.
“I rang the bell at the front door, but no one answered.” His voice, deep and rich, rumbled through her like thunder in the distance. “I’m looking for Everleigh Miller.”
She swallowed—hard—and finally found her voice. “I’m Evie Miller. How can I help you?”
He tilted his head as his gaze roamed over her face. She felt the heat of that gaze all the way to her toes. It warmed her from the inside out, making her fingers tingle with the urge to touch his handsome features. No one had looked at her that way in an awfully long time.
For as much as she denied it and didn’t think it would happen for her, she did want romance. And passion. Someone to spend the rest of her life with.
The man’s gaze drifted to the rose arbor and the festive bunting fluttering in the breeze, then down at the wedding cake still on the table, that devastating smile never leaving his face. “Well, for starters, you can tell me that I didn’t miss our wedding.”
She blinked, confusion running rampant in her brain. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Who are you?”
“Jake. Jake Hannigan.”
His warm amber gaze met hers and locked. She couldn’t turn away. She’d never heard the name before, she was sure of it. And she’d never met him. She would have remembered. How could one forget a smile like that? “Forgive me, please, but I’m confused. Did you say ‘our’ wedding?”
“I did.”
