The Romancing of Evangeline Ipswich

by McClure, Marcia Lynn

  CHAPTER THREE

  As she stepped off the train and onto the Red Peak train platform, Evangeline shivered a little, for the weather was considerably colder than it had been in Langtree. Certainly autumn was brilliant in its October glory when she’d left Meadowlark Lake earlier that same day. Yet cool and crisp as the morning air had been in Langtree, the early evening atmosphere of Red Peak was nigh unto frigid.

  “Here you go, miss,” the tall, rather elderly porter said as he set her traveling trunk down on the platform next to her. “You enjoy your visit now.”

  “Thank you,” Evangeline said, smiling as the porter tipped his hat to her and accepted the coins of gratuity she offered.

  “Thank you, miss,” the man said as he shuffled off to board the train once more.

  Evangeline inhaled a deep breath of cold autumn air. Glancing about for a moment, she was not the least bit disappointed with the pines and gold-leafed aspens that surrounded the train station. Quite the opposite of Meadowlark Lake and Langtree’s crimson maples and flaming orange and scarlet sumac, the deep richness of the evergreens mingled with the quivering yellow of the aspen leaves was just as beautiful—simply different.

  Evangeline startled a little as a somewhat quiet bark drew her attention from the autumn vista before her and to a medium-sized brown dog that had suddenly appeared at her side. The dog stood panting happily, as if he’d known her all her life, and it quite warmed Evangeline’s heart.

  “Well, aren’t you a friendly little fellow?” she giggled as the dog—who she quickly noticed was missing one hind leg—sat at her feet, wagging its tail and panting in happy anticipation of attention.

  Again Evangeline giggled. “Aren’t you just a handsome man? Yes, you are,” she said to the dog as she hunkered down and scratched behind his ears. She laughed when the dog’s one hind leg began to beat the train platform as a signal of delight. “Oh, you are a sweetheart, aren’t you? I bet you’re quite the Romeo in town too, hmmm?”

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Evangeline Ipswich,” came a man’s voice from behind her. “And I see you’ve already won over Jones.”

  Evangeline felt goose bumps break over her entire body, for she’d instantly recognized the voice, even for the near six years it had been since she’d last heard it.

  Rendered breathless by the familiar, yet long absent, sensation of excitement that washed over her, Evangeline felt a nervous trembling begin in her bosom as she slowly stood and turned around. A quite gasp escaped her as she gazed up into the indecently handsome face of Jennie’s elder brother, Hutchner LaMontagne.

  “H-Hutch?” Evangeline stammered as she continued to stare at him. As cute as Hutchner LaMontagne had been as a boy—as exceptionally good-looking as he’d been as a very young man—it was all nothing compared with the magnificent specimen of manly attractiveness that full-grown manhood had bestowed upon him.

  Evangeline quickly surmised Hutch was much taller even than he had been when she’d last seen him—even taller than her father. His shoulders were broader than broad, as was the expanse of his chest. Where it showed beneath his hat, it was obvious that his hair was still the same dark, warm brown that had ever lingered in Evangeline’s reminiscent daydreams. Likewise his eyes were the same familiar, breathtaking, riveting blue. Yet his jaw was more squared, all the more pronounced and complemented by a few days of dark whisker growth. His nose was as straight as ever and his smile even more captivating than even it had been.

  “Oh, good, you remember me then, huh?” Hutch asked, smiling his alluring smile at her.

  “Of-of course,” Evangeline managed. She unconsciously took a step backward, for he unsettled her—just as he always had.

  Evangeline gasped, however, as, when she began to take another step backward, she found that there was no flooring directly beneath her, and she began to stumble.

  “Careful now, darlin’,” Hutch said as he reached out, caught hold of her arms, steadied her, and pulled her forward a step or two. “Jennie would skin me alive if I brought you home all banged up.” He chuckled as he continued to smile at her, and Evangeline’s heart leapt in her chest at the familiar and once very beloved sound.

  “Wh-what are you doing here, Hutch?” Evangeline asked. She was more than entirely astounded; she was nearly in a state of shock! For the fact of the matter was, since she’d been a little girl—in truth, as far back as her first memory of life—she’d been in love with Jennie’s older brother, Hutchner. The fact that six years previously, he’d up and left Boston to find his way out west—and unknowingly broken her heart in doing so—hadn’t changed the effect his presence had on her one whit. Goose bumps had broken over her arms when he’d reached out to steady her. His fixed sapphire eyes caused her heart to quiver and her limbs to tremble.

  “What?” he asked, quirking one handsome brow. “Aren’t you glad to see me again? After all, it’s been six years, hasn’t it? Did you give me up as a friend so fast as that?” He winked one of his delicious, teasing winks.

  “Of c-course not,” Evangeline managed. “It’s just that…well, you surprised me so. Jennie didn’t mention that you would be here too. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

  “Well, that’s sure good to hear,” he said. “I swear, you went pale as a ghost when you saw me. I almost laughed because you looked so shocked. But I didn’t want you to faint or something and topple down on top of ol’ Jones.” Hutch reached down and scratched the brown dog behind one ear. “He’s already down one leg, you see. I wouldn’t want him to break another. Otherwise I might have to take to carrying him everywhere.” He laughed, looked to Evangeline, and asked, “Remember those old Bostonian ladies we used to make fun of? The ones that carried their little dogs around or kept them on their laps?”

  “Of course,” Evangeline assured him. She smiled at the memory.

  There was silence between them a moment—an awkward silence as Hutch seemed to study Evangeline from head to toe for a time.

  “Well, I guess I better get you to Jennie’s place,” Hutch said. “I’m sure she’ll be chomping at the bit to start catching up on things with you.” He turned, looked at her traveling trunk, and asked, “Is this all you’ve got?”

  “Yes,” Evangeline assured him with a nod.

  Her eyes widened as he turned, picked up her trunk, and easily hefted it onto one shoulder. He was so intimidating in his height and visible musculature. He wore a pair of worn boots with his trousers legs tucked into them, a blue shirt, and suspenders. Evangeline thought how differently he was dressed than the last time she’d seen him in Boston—at a wedding, dressed in his formal attire. A slight smile curled her lips as she realized she preferred his present togs.

  “Come on, Jones,” he called to his dog. The dog hopped up and very ably began walking in front of his master—toward a wagon and team of horses that Hutch nodded toward.

  “That’s my rig, there,” he said. “Ma’am,” he added, tipping his hat to her and nodding to indicate she should proceed before him.

  Evangeline smiled and said, “I see you still have your city manners.”

  “Nope,” Hutch said, however. “I swapped them for some country ones. I find they’re not as stiff and serious.”

  Still smiling, Evangeline did precede him, following the happily panting Jones to the wagon.

  Once Hutch had deposited her traveling trunk into the wagon bed, he offered her his hand to assist her in climbing up onto the wagon’s seat.

  “Ma’am,” he said, again.

  “Thank you,” Evangeline said, accepting his assistance. Of course, instantly she wished she hadn’t—for her hand where he held it so instantly warmed with the excitement of his touch that it began to tremble again.

  Hoping he hadn’t noticed her nervous reaction to him, Evangeline settled herself on the wagon seat, smoothing the skirt of her dress and straightening her posture.

  Hutch whistled to Jones, and Evangeline was amazed at how nimbly the three-legged dog leapt
up onto the wagon. She laughed when Jones plopped his hindquarters on the wagon seat between she and Hutch and rested his head in her lap.

  “He’s very friendly,” Evangeline said as she softly patted the dog’s head and scratched behind his ears.

  “Only to pretty girls,” Hutch said, winking at her. He shrugged, adding, “And to me, of course.”

  Evangeline felt the heat of a blush rise to her cheeks. Six years had passed—six long years—and yet Hutch’s implication that she was a “pretty girl” still made her blush and feel tingly inside. She wasn’t sixteen anymore, and she hadn’t seen Hutch for years and years. Therefore, Evangeline was fairly confounded at why he still affected her so.

  In fact, he was probably married! That thought instantly depressed her. She glanced to his left hand to see if he wore a wedding ring. He did not. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t married. Many men didn’t wear wedding rings.

  “What’re you looking at?” he asked unexpectedly.

  Evangeline’s muscles tensed. She couldn’t tell him she’d been checking to see if he wore a wedding ring.

  Therefore, finding the courage to look up at him and meet his curious gaze, she answered, “Y-you’re very tall. Much taller than I remember.”

  Hutch chuckled with amusement and slapped the lines at his team’s backs. As the wagon lurched forward, he said, “Well, you’re very beautiful.” He looked back to her. “Even more beautiful than I remember.”

  Again Evangeline blushed. She glanced away from Hutch, down to the dog still resting his head in her lap.

  “I see you haven’t lost your charm,” she said.

  “And I see that you haven’t lost your humility,” he countered with an approving grin.

  Evangeline’s blush deepened. She was flustered, wondering why he unsettled her so entirely. Oh, certainly, most of her childhood and adolescence she’d often dreamt about riding in a carriage or buggy with the handsome and dashing Hutch LaMontagne at the reins, but those were silly dreams from long ago. Therefore, she was awed at her own weakness—her vulnerability to the wiles of a man she hadn’t seen in six years.

  “So,” Hutch began, “Jennie tells me you’re still not married.”

  If Evangeline were uncomfortable in Hutch’s presence a moment before, now she was nigh unto distressed!

  “Um…that’s correct,” she said. “That’s me—the old spinster of the Ipswich family,” she rather grumbled with embarrassment.

  But Hutch looked at her with surprise. “Spinster?” he asked. “Oh, I’d hardly think that you would qualify as a spinster. How old are you now? Twenty?”

  “Twenty-two,” Evangeline admitted, disheartened.

  “Twenty-two?” Hutch exclaimed. “Why, you’re still a baby! I can’t believe you’re even wearing long skirts. Seems to me you should still be in pigtails.”

  Evangeline shook her head and smiled. “And there it is…that Hutchner LaMontagne charm.”

  “Well, I don’t know about charm,” he continued. “But if you’re walking around thinking you’re a spinster at twenty-two, what does that make me—still a bachelor at twenty-six?”

  He wasn’t married! He still wasn’t married! The knowledge caused far, far more excitement and delight to bubble up inside Evangeline’s bosom than she felt it should have.

  “An old rake, I suppose,” she teased.

  “An old rake?” Hutch asked, looking at her and wearing an expression of deep concern.

  “Oh, of course not,” Evangeline assured him. “I was just teasing you. And anyway, it’s perfectly acceptable for a man not to be married at a young age. In fact, my father’s wife is only a few years older than I am, and no one even thinks it’s strange. But a woman not being married by the time she’s twenty-two…well, most of society frowns on that.”

  “Well, that’s just foolish,” Hutch commented. “As I said, I’m surprised you’re even wearing long skirts yet.”

  Evangeline smiled, feeling the same tenderhearted warmth toward Hutch and his kindness as ever she had as a young girl.

  “In fact, I wasn’t all for it as easily as you might think when Calvin up and proposed to Jennie, you know,” Hutch offered.

  Evangeline was somewhat taken aback by the revelation—but only for a moment, as then she remembered just how protective Hutch had always been of his little sister. Still, for the sake of her own interest, she asked, “You weren’t?”

  Hutch shook his head. “Nope. I thought she was too young, too inexperienced in life. And she hadn’t known Calvin more than a month or two either.” He shrugged, exhaled a rather guilty sounding sigh, and continued. “In fact, it’s why they’re out here in Red Peak. After our parents died, Jennie stayed with our aunt and uncle in Boston. She met Calvin, and he sent me a telegram asking my permission to marry her. As I said, I wasn’t too keen on the idea, so I had him come out here and work with me at the livery for several weeks before I would agree to their marriage.” He paused, looked to Evangeline, and explained, “I just felt I needed to look out for her, you know? I felt bad for not going back to Boston right away when our folks passed.”

  Evangeline smiled with encouragement. “You’re a wise man, and a good and protective brother.”

  “Well, I hope so,” he said. “Fortunately, Calvin understood and came out just as I asked him to. In fact, he liked it so much here, he asked Jennie if she’d be willing to come out, and she was. I figured a man who was willing to go through everything he did in putting up with my shenanigans was a good man indeed.” He shrugged. “So Jennie married Calvin right here in Red Peak. And they’ve lived here ever since. They live just a few houses down from mine.”

  “And does Calvin still work with you at the livery?” Evangeline asked.

  Hutch shook his head. “Nope. He works over at the lumber mill. He seems happier over there, being that there’s a bit more to keep a man busy.”

  “Well, I can tell that Jennie is very happy with Calvin,” Evangeline sighed. “It’s obvious in the way she talks about him in her letters.”

  “They do love each other more than most married couples I’ve ever seen.” Hutch grinned. “It makes me feel comforted to know she’s happy and taken care of.” He turned and looked to Evangeline, asking, “Now what’s this about your daddy marrying a much younger woman? Just older than you, you say?”

  Evangeline smiled and nodded. “Yes…Kizzy,” she answered. “She’s beautiful! A gypsy, in fact, and she had a little girl already, my new little sister, Shay. She’s just as beautiful as her mother and keeps us in stitches with her amusing antics. Furthermore, Kizzy’s expecting a baby herself, due to arrive about Thanksgiving.”

  Hutch smiled and chuckled. “Well, good for the judge!” he exclaimed.

  “I have photographs that I brought with me to show to Jennie,” Evangeline continued. “Photographs of everyone in the family. So since you’re here, you can see them too!”

  “I look forward to it,” he said. He paused a moment and then asked, “I take it by your astonishment in seeing me at the train station that my little sister didn’t tell you I lived in Red Peak too, hmm?”

  Again Evangeline blushed. Shaking her head, she admitted, “No, she didn’t mention it.”

  Hutch’s handsome brow puckered. “I wonder why not?” he asked. Then answering his own question, he added, “She probably thought I’d scare you off, that you wouldn’t want to come visit if you knew her old rake of a brother was in town.”

  Hutch winked at Evangeline, and she giggled. “Maybe,” she teased. “But I know a few old rakes, and you’re not one of them.”

  “Jennie did tell me that there’s some old man pursuing you in…is it Meadowlark Lake?” he said.

  “Meadowlark Lake, yes,” Evangeline confirmed.

  “Jennie says he’s a poet or some such thing?” Hutch prodded.

  Evangeline smiled. “His name is Mr. Longfellow, and he’s a farmer, not a poet. And I know you well enough to know you’re just being a smart aleck, Hutchner La
Montagne.”

  He grinned and shrugged with being guilty as accused. “Are you gonna marry him?” he asked.

  “Heavens no!” Evangeline exclaimed, blushing. “He’s old enough to be my father!”

  “But you just said your father married a woman hardly older than you,” Hutch baited.

  “Well, that is entirely different! My father is an entirely different sort of man than Mr. Longfellow,” Evangeline defended. “And besides, I don’t find poor Mr. Longfellow at all attractive. And he never laughs…rarely speaks for that matter!”

  “Whoa, Nelly!” Hutch laughed. “I was just trying to ruffle your feathers, Evie. Jennie already told me you’re not interested in the least in the old poet.”

  Evangeline inhaled a deep breath to calm her temperament. Exhaling a heavy sigh and remembering what a tease Hutch could be, she said, “I see you still like to endeavor to unsettle people.”

  Hutch’s grin broadened. “Oh, and you were always a fun one to unsettle,” he said. “It didn’t take much, as I recall, to set your bloomers to ruffling.”

  Evangeline smiled as memories of Hutch’s teasing her flooded her mind. “No, it didn’t take much. At least not for you.”

  “Well, it’s good to know that you remember me for something, at least,” Hutch chuckled.

  Remembered him for something? That was certainly understating things. Evangeline remembered Hutch for everything! Sure, his teasing, playful manner was one of the things she remembered most—one of the things she’d always, always loved about her best friend’s older brother—but there was so much more than that! Evangeline remembered how friendly he always was to everyone, including her. She thought of how heroic he was—of the time she’d lost her way in the city when she was six years old, having gotten separated from her mother in a crowd, and an eleven-year-old Hutchner LaMontagne finding her—frightened, sobbing, and cold—and carrying her all the way home. She remembered how strong he’d always been, bruising the cheeks and chins of school bullies when they bothered anyone who was too small or afraid to defend themselves. And she thought of the daydreams she had entertained for most of her life until he’d left Boston—daydreams of moments like she was living that very day—daydreams of having Hutch’s attention all to herself for a time.