Page 12 of More Than Meets the Eye

“Don’t shoot!”

He tore free from her grip and shoved her back to the ground none too gently.

“Look at the bow,” she cried as she scrambled back to her feet.

Logan took aim, his focus glued to the area between the animal’s eyes.

She launched herself onto his back and tackled him to the ground. “He’s not wild,” she insisted even as Logan bucked her off and rolled her to the side. “Please!”

The desperate plea and tremulous voice tugged at a heart he’d thought long ago hardened past all sentimentality.

Logan paused. Took in his adversary. Snorting, ugly, black creature. Yet not charging. And a ridiculous, gargantuan red bow hung wilted against its right shoulder.

Maybe he should shoot the creature. Out of pity. The shame of being subjected to such a prissy accessory would mortally wound any male’s pride. The boar would probably thank him for putting an end to his suffering.

The girl lunged to her feet and rushed to the boar’s side. She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around the beast’s neck. “Hezekiah’s no threat to you, mister. Please, just let him be.”

Logan lowered his gun as he shook his head. “Hezekiah?” He pushed to his feet and tucked his pistol into its holster. “Doesn’t exactly strike me as the kingly type.”

She grinned, and her face lit up with what could only be called joy. The purity of it took Logan aback. One didn’t see expressions like that in saloons or lumber camps, and he’d spent little time elsewhere these past years.

Then she ruined it by turning that glorious smile on her pet and putting her face disastrously close to the boar’s teeth.

“Whoa, now.” Logan jumped forward, grabbed the girl’s elbow, and yanked her away from the hog. “Those things have nasty teeth. I don’t care how tame he is, he’s still a creature with animal instincts. And tusks.”

“Not Hezzy,” she said as he pulled her to her feet and twirled her toward him. She brought up her hands to catch herself before she rammed into his chest. Her palms flattened against the cotton of his shirt, and his heart did an odd little hiccup at the contact. “My brother removed his cutters when he was a few months old. Zach wouldn’t let me keep him otherwise.”

Smart man. Logan had long respected Hamilton’s intelligence. It was his character Logan despised.

All thought of Zacharias fled Logan’s mind when the girl finally tilted her chin back and hit him with the full impact of her eyes.

One blue. One brown. Just like Dunn had said. Startling in their difference, yet so vibrant that he couldn’t describe them as anything other than stunning.

She stared back at him, unblinking. Until, that is, her gaze fluttered to his scar. He steeled himself for her reaction. He knew the blemish was unsightly, leaving a slashing void in his eyebrow and puckering the skin along his cheekbone.

Something soft flashed in her eyes, just for a moment. Not disgust, nor even discomfort. Something that felt oddly like . . . kinship.

He shook his head to rid his mind of the disturbing sensation and said the first thing that popped into his mind. “Why’d you name your pig Hezekiah? Kind of insulting to the king who served God so faithfully, don’t you think?”

Her mouth quirked up on one side. “You saying my Hezzy doesn’t have a regal bearing?”

The pig in question grunted and set about rooting in the dirt near the base of the closest tree, covering its snout with a thick layer of muck and leaves before turning his side into the trunk to rub against the bark. The beast had all the manners of a drunken oaf scratching an indiscriminate itch with no care as to who was watching. All that was missing was a loud belch to complete the picture.

Logan raised a questioning brow. The girl glanced at her pet, then burst into laughter. The sound tinkled like the crystal chandelier he’d rammed his head into once in a fancy hotel lobby.

“I suppose you have me there,” she finally admitted. “Hezzy’s not exactly cut from the royal cloth, but when I found him alone and abandoned in the woods, half dead, I knew he needed a reason to live. A reason not to give up hope. So I called him Hezekiah.”

A memory clicked into place in Logan’s mind. “Because Hezekiah became ill and was supposed to die until God granted him an extra fifteen years.”

Her eyes glowed as if proud of his answer. Like he was some ragamuffin pupil in a classroom. He should be insulted. So why did his chest expand under her unvoiced praise?

“That’s it exactly.” There was that smile again. All sunshine and rainbows. As if this girl had never known a single hardship in her life.

Logan scowled.

Her smile dimmed. Just a bit, but enough to make him feel more in control. All this frivolous laughing and grinning was bad for his digestion.

Her eyes found his again, and the playfulness vanished from her gaze. “Everyone deserves to be treated like a king, even if they’re only a humble pig.”