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, andwiped 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 toldno.
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.
