Page 15 of The Formation of Us

Evelyn poked Duke’s ribs and pulled Rebecca free. “Don’t start on her. She gets enough grief from her two brothers.” She brushed Rebecca’s thick braid behind her shoulder. “Would you bring the plates out?”

With a look of gratitude, Rebecca raced inside.

Duke scowled at Evelyn. “You ruined a perfectly good bout of teasing,” he complained.

She looked unmoved. “I know what it’s like to be outnumbered by nasty little boys.”

“I was never little.”

She laughed and picked up the jar of balm. “What is this?”

“Love balm. I rub it on a woman and she falls madly in love with me.”

She plunked the jar down beside him. “What a waste. Every woman in town already loves you.”

“Not the pretty widow who made this balm,” he said, nodding at the jar. “One Faith Wilkins just opened a greenhouse in Colburn’s old gristmill. I stopped in to . . . welcome her to town, and for some reason that made her nervous.”

“Maybe she’s hiding a criminal in her house,” William said— so sincerely Duke didn’t dare laugh at his nephew.

“I worried about that, too, Will, so I went right inside her greenhouse and looked around. Didn’t find a thing but herbs and flowers in there.”

“Maybe she’s a witch,” the seven-year-old whispered, wide eyes blinking.

“You know, she did have a big cauldron in the greenhouse. She didn’t seem like a witch, though, and she’s awfully pretty.”

William’s nose scrunched. “Oh. Well, witches have boils and warts and—”

“William, tell your brother and sister to come eat.” His mother gave him a gentle nudge toward the door, then went to sit by Duke’s mother. “I can’t imagine why your barging into her greenhouse would have made the lady nervous,” she said to Duke.

“I didn’t barge in,” he replied, crossing the porch and seating himself opposite her.

Radford followed, and Joshua, William, and Rebecca hurried outside. Everyone sat at the table and started eating.

Evelyn bit into a biscuit, but her green eyes sparkled with mischief.

Duke lowered his chicken leg. “What?”

His brother’s wife chewed like she had all evening to enjoy that one bite.

“What?” he prodded. He knew that look in her eyes. The last time she’d directed it at him, she’d hung his boots from the top of her oak tree. She was half his weight, and had climbed to the very top of the tree where the limbs were as skinny as toothpicks. He’d nearly broken his neck retrieving the damn things.

Evelyn ignored him. “Mother, would you like to go with me tomorrow to welcome Faith Wilkins to town?”

“Of course,” Duke’s mother said, making him groan. He wanted to warn her to stay away, but his mother was short and sassy and the last woman he would cross. “I’ll take a jar of preserves to welcome her.”

“And I’ll take a plate of the cookies I just baked.” Evelyn hooked her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Sweetheart, would you watch the children tomorrow while I go meet this pretty widow who has snared your uncle’s interest?”

Like mother like daughter; Rebecca’s eyes sparkled. “Of course, Mama. I owe Uncle Duke a favor.”

He flicked a biscuit crumb at Evelyn. “You’re ruining my niece.”

“I’m teaching her that turnabout is fair play”

Radford tossed his napkin onto his plate and leaned back in his chair. “Save your breath, Duke. When the ladies set their minds to something, the boys and I clear out.”

Evelyn patted Radford’s thigh. “You poor, mistreated man.”

He sighed dramatically and looked down into her upturned face. “To think I’ll spend the rest of my life being treated like this . . .” He trailed off, the warm look in his eyes saying everything. He was a man in love, a man in awe of all he had.