Page 91 of More Than Meets the Eye

With how quickly Seth had implemented the switch in sleeping arrangements, Evangeline imagined that was precisely what her brother was thinking. The faster he could send Evangeline and Logan on to their own cabin, the faster he could rid the homestead of the wedding guests and have the place to himself. She was pretty sure she’d overheard him scheming to have Uncle Zach invite Archie to camp out in the barn with him tonight, too.

Before Evangeline could tease her sister-in-law about that, though, the impatient men stormed the castle. Logan tossed the door wider than it already stood, strode in, and snatched Evangeline completely off her feet. She shrieked, then laughed and kicked her legs in weak protest.

“Come on, woman.” The mock sternness of his face only increased her giggles. “We have a threshold to cross.”

Evangeline wrapped her arms around his neck as he swished her sideways to allow Seth entrance. “Do you plan to carry me all the way to the cabin?”

Logan met her gaze, a roguish grin lighting his eyes. “Nope, just to the wagon. For now.” He waggled his brows. “Once we get home, though, I plan to sweep you up again and not let you out of my arms until sometime tomorrow.”

“Logan!” Evangeline swatted his shoulder as her cheeks burned, not that the scoundrel cared.

In fact, her unrepentant husband dipped his chin and captured her lips in a kiss that stole every thought of protest from her mind. By the time he finally pulled away, her fingers were thoroughly entangled in the hair at his nape, and her breathing had become embarrassingly ragged. The only thing that saved her from complete mortification was the fact that Seth was currently giving Christie the same treatment.

Her brother tugged her satchel from Christie’s limp fingers and pushed it into the hand Logan had positioned beneath Evangeline’s knees. Once the transfer was complete, Logan marched straight for the back door and out onto the porch.

A chorus of hoots, hollers, and whistles erupted. Evangeline hid her face against Logan’s neck.

“Logan Everett Fowler,” a cultured feminine voice scolded, “that’s the future mother of my grandchildren you’re manhandling.”

“I’ve got a good hold on her, Mama,” Logan called, removing any hope that he’d allow Evangeline to walk on her own two feet to the wagon. Then his clean-shaven jaw nudged her face up so he could look into her eyes. “And I’m never letting her go.”

Her insides swirled and dipped like a ballroom full of waltzing troubadours. She no longer cared that they were making a spectacle for her neighbors and friends. All she cared about was the man she adored.

“I love you, Logan Fowler,” she whispered for his ears alone.

His crooked smile made her pulse flutter. “I love you, Evangeline Pearson Hamilton Fowler. Forever.”

He carried her down the porch steps, and everyone surrounded them to give their final well wishes as they made their way to the wagon. When they reached Logan’s mother, though, he paused and bent down with Evangeline still in his arms to allow the small gray-haired woman with dancing eyes to kiss his cheek.

The change in Logan’s mother had been remarkable. She had gone from a withdrawn, hopeless widow to a vibrant woman of renewed purpose and vitality. According to Logan’s aunt, the change had started the day she received Logan’s letter and solidified the first time Logan had introduced her to Evangeline.

It turned out her grief had not solely been due to the loss of her husband and home. The most acute portion had been reserved for the son she believed had followed his father’s disastrous path. Once Logan convinced her he’d left that life behind, her sprits revived, and the baby blankets she had once knitted for the poor box were now piling up in a chest for the grandbabies she hoped would soon follow the wedding.

Evangeline reached a hand toward her mother-in-law. “Will you be all right, Mother? You know you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you like.”

“Nonsense, dear. I’ll not be getting in the way of those grandbabies you promised me.”

Heavens. Even Logan’s mother? Evangeline doubted her cheeks would ever recover. They’d surely be stained bright red permanently.

Mrs. Fowler had avoided going inside any of the buildings of her former home. Not the house, nor the barn. The closest she’d come was to pat the trunks of the peach trees near the porch. She’d been staying with Logan until today and had accepted the Clems’ hospitality for a final night before she left for her sister’s house on the morrow.

“I’ll expect letters, though.” Mrs. Fowler’s eyes narrowed. “Detailed letters. Regularly.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Matilda Fowler turned her attention back to her son. “Go on, now.” She released Evangeline’s hand with a grin and waved them on. “Take your bride home.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Logan’s long legs ate up the ground between the crowd and the waiting wagon.

Zach had the team hitched and waiting, and after Logan gently dropped Evangeline onto the bench seat, her brother approached. Logan moved to the horses’ heads, checking harness Evangeline knew was perfectly in place.

A frown crinkling her brow, she turned to question her brother, only to find Zach’s eyes tinged not with joy or teasing, but with something far heavier.

She reached a hand out to him. “What is it?”

He took her hand, looking down at their joined fingers. “I’m leaving Pecan Gap, Evie.”

She reared back, heart thudding in alarm. “What? Why?”