Once on the path, Evie reached into the basket, pulled out the napkin-wrapped cookie, and handed it to him. “I brought you this.”
“Is it that cookie you were telling me about?”
“Lebkuchen. It’s still warm.”
She watched him take a careful bite, then another, and another. She didn’t have to ask if he liked it. That much was obvious by the expression on his face, which was one of pure pleasure.
“That’s the best thing I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.”
She liked walking beside him like this. He matched his stride to hers as they ambled along, the basket swinging from her arm. He didn’t speak, but then, neither did she. For the moment, there didn’t seem to be a need for words, the silence between them comfortable as they traversed the meandering path.
“Do you miss San Francisco?” he asked, breaking the silence.
No.”
“Not even a little?”
“Actually, not at all. My life here is so much different, so much better.”
“How is it different?” Curiosity danced in his beautiful amber eyes.
“If I had stayed in San Francisco, I would have married the man my father chose for me, whether I wanted to or not. It wouldn’t have been for love, but rather standing and accumulated wealth. That’s what wealthy young women did. They married to advance their standing in society or to please their fathers.”
She paused then looked up at him. “I never wanted that. Even before I was given this—” she searched for the word, “opportunity to come here and take care of my sister’s children, I wanted to be free to choose my own…path.”
She spread her arm, the one holding the basket, wide to encompass the path and the trees surrounding them. “There’s freedom here. Don’t you feel it?”
“I do.” He nodded in agreement.
“I would never have been able to accomplish there what I have here. This ranch is thriving. Successful. People come fromall around to buy our horses, drawn by our reputation.” She glanced at him again, loving the attention she clearly saw on his face, knowing that he listened to every word.
“Something else I never found in San Francisco.” She gestured to the trees, then raised her hand to the sky above them, seen between the leaves of the trees. “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”
“Yes, I have,” he said.
There was something in his voice that made her take her attention from the sky and bring it back to him. “Tell me.”
He shrugged as if embarrassed, then uttered, “You.”
Pleasure at his compliment rushed through her, making her warm all over.
“When you’re talking about this ranch, your eyes light up. You become…animated, I guess would be the word, and the love you have for this place shows on your face and in your voice.”
“You’re right. I do love this ranch. And I’m grateful that I’ve had a part in making it what it is.”
“You have plenty of reason to be proud.”
They left the shade of the trees and came into the sunlight in a clearing; blackberry bushes, cultivated over the years, now lined the path. Evie stopped, as she always did in this spot, to gaze upon the little house nestled there, the sound of birdsong and the river rushing filling her ears. “And this isPequeña Casa. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It is.”
She loved this little house. It wasn’t abandoned, but it wasn’t really used much. No one lived in it anymore. It wasn’t very big, but it was sturdy and comfortable. From the front porch, one could sit and listen to the river, which was peaceful and calming. Someday, she might live here. She’d toyed with the idea before, but lately, it seemed to be in her mind more and more often.Perhaps it was time to give the big house over to her nephews’ growing families.
She removed her hand from the crook of Jake’s elbow as her gaze fell on the blackberry bushes lining the path. “Look at all those blackberries. There’s a good crop this year.” She moved closer to a bush loaded with ripe, purple fruit, plucked one, and popped it into her mouth, the sweet flavor exploding on her tongue. “These will make an excellent pies.” She nodded in another direction. “Over there are apple and walnut trees. A few peach trees. Some pear trees. The apples and pears won’t be ripe for another month or so, but there should be some peaches left we can pick if you want.” She ate another blackberry, then glanced at him.
She had his full attention, his gaze filled with undisguised warmth. And his smile! Oh, that smile made butterflies dance in her stomach. It looked like he wanted to kiss her. She wished he would. He took a step closer, and she almost closed her eyes in anticipation, but instead of pressing his lips to hers, he simply reached behind her, pulled a blackberry from the bush, and ate it.
“Sweet,” he murmured, but she couldn’t be sure from his look if he was talking about the fruit. Or her. His gaze never left hers. Her stomach did flips.
