There was no greeting as Teddy came further into the room and got right to the point. “You gonna marry that…that…city boy?”
Oh, he was upset. There was a twitch at the corner of his left eye and his jaw was clenched. Even when he’d been a little boy, she’d always known exactly how upset he was just by looking at that twitch. The faster the muscle moved, the more displeased he was. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do.”
He began to pace, striding from the sink to the ice box to the other side of the room, passing in front of his brothers then herat the table, his bootheels heavy on the tile, his hands tightening into fists then relaxing. “I’m gonna wring Lucy’s neck!”
“You’ll leave Lucy alone,” she said.
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it.” She took a careful sip of her coffee, but her gaze never left his. “I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions, and right now, you’re acting like my father instead of my nephew. I will not have it, do I make myself clear, Teodoro Augustus?”
He stopped moving and just looked at her, obviously recognizing the tone and the fact she used his full name. He’d heard it often enough over the years. It didn’t matter that he was a twenty-eight-year-old man and not the angry little boy he’d once been. He huffed, but still responded with the respect he’d been taught. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I have not agreed to anything. Not at this moment, at least. He is a stranger. But maybe I want to get to know him since he’s?—”
He didn’t let her finish. “You’re too old to be thinking about getting romantically involved with someone.”
Too old? Not only did his words catch her off guard, but they hurt her. She never considered herself old. “Is that what you think, Teddy? That I’m too old for romance? Too old to fall in love?”
He didn’t answer, but his face began to take on a reddish hue. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out.
“I have some news for you. I may be forty, but that doesn’t make me old. Being afraid to experience life with all its good and bad makes one old. Being so set in your ways you won’t try anything new makes one old, but falling in love, no matter what a person’s age, makes one young.” She rose from her chair,forcing him to take a step back. “This is my decision and mine alone.”
“I don’t think you’re too old,TiaEvie. I think it’s about time,” Heath said, his eyes, so much like hers and his mother’s, twinkling with amusement. Yes, Heath would find this amusing. He always did have an odd sense of humor.
As usual, Esteban said nothing, but there was suspicion in his dark eyes. Whereas Teddy had always been verbal expressing his anger—or happiness—and Heath had always taken whatever life threw him with aplomb, her middle nephew had always been the quiet one, leaving her to wonder what was on his mind, even when he was young. She held his gaze with her own. “Do you think I’m too old?”
He shook his head but did not speak.
“Good, because I just might marry him.” She gave them all one final glare, then, head held high, she left the room. As the swinging door closed behind her, she heard the explosion of voices, which made her smile.
Too old, my foot! We’ll just see who’s too old!
CHAPTER 3
“Oh my!”
Evie laid aside the garment she’d been mending and watched Marisol fan herself as she watched the shirtless man chopping wood in the barnyard, just beyond the garden, and where three cats sat perfectly still in the shade of the bunkhouse, watching him just as intently as the women on the patio were. Even Smoky the dog was watching him.
“Marisol! I’m surprised at you! You’re a married woman!” Evie followed her gaze though it wasn’t the first time she’d looked at him. One would only have to check the crooked stitching on her grandnephew’s shirt to see that her mind wasn’t on mending. Indeed, from the moment Jake stepped into her sights, her attention had been on him as he swung the axe over and over, his skin glistening in the sun, muscles, previously hidden by his clothing, rippling with every movement.
Marisol laughed as she took a sip of her lemonade. “I might be married, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the sight of a fine-looking man.”
“And does your husband know you look at other men?”
“Sergio says the day I stop looking is the day he’ll start to worry.”
Evie laughed. She couldn’t help it. The comment was not out of character for Marisol. Neither was watching Jake chop wood. From the moment they’d met all those years ago when Evie first came to the ranch from San Francisco to take care of Regina’s children, Marisol had been outspoken, almost brazen, but always kind, loving, and generous. A good friend. The best friend she’d ever had, aside from Hilde and Aunt Felicity. There were no lies or secrets between them. Never had been. Never would be.
Marisol continued to gaze at Jake. “What do you know about your mystery man?”
Evie picked up her mending and tried hard to make the stitches even, but it wasn’t working, not when the distraction at hand was the enigmatic, too charming, too handsome by far Jake Hannigan. “Not very much. He seems like a nice enough man. He hasn’t balked at any of the chores Antonio has given him. And he’s learning very quickly. The boys are not happy he’s here, though, especially Teddy.”
“Bah! Teddy! He’s an old woman!” Marisol said. “So…what are you going to do? Are you going to marry him?”
Evie glanced down at the shirt in her hand, avoiding Marisol’s curious expression. She shrugged, feeling the tension in her shoulders. “He’s only been here a few days. I don’t know him, and I will not commit to spending the rest of my life with someone I don’t know.”
“I understand, but that situation is not going to fix itself with you just watching him from afar. You have to talk to him, too, Evie. Get to know him.” Marisol paused, mischief in her light-brown eyes. “I don’t have to ask if you find him attractive, the way you keep looking at him.”
