song. The painful memories that must have brought back made even her heart flinch.
Unaware of the thoughts of their elders, the children rushed around them, chattering like magpies. Even Daniel was grinning and talking excitedly about some plan of his for the afternoon. Evie wound her fingers around Tyler's hand and squeezed, and he pulled her arm behind her back and rewarded her with a kiss on her forehead.
The children took the affectionate gesture in stride and continued chattering as they walked down the alley. Not until they got close to the house and saw the stranger standing on the porch did they go silent, one by one.
Tyler pressed Evie behind him, but the stranger didn't look dangerous. He looked as if he had been traveling for a long time. His long canvas dust coat was wrinkled and dirty and thrown over a satchel that looked as beaten and weary as its owner. The man himself wasn't particularly tall, but he sported a pointed goatee that had the children staring. Threads of gray laced the beard and his otherwise dark hair. But it was the eyes that Tyler noticed.
They were Evie's eyes.
And the children's eyes.
With a growing lump of panic in his middle, Tyler looked around him again to be certain he wasn't mistaken. He had never really noticed the resemblance before. The children were unmistakably of Spanish origin, with the olive coloring, black hair, and slight stature of their Mexican father. Evie's complexion was as fair as an English rose, her hair shimmered with strands of auburn, and while she wasn't particularly tall, he would never call her short. There was absolutely no resemblance at all, except in the eyes.
Those mysterious, slightly slanted, long-lashed sloe eyes of hers had always fascinated him. Perhaps knowing Evie made it easier to accept the same eyes on the children without a second glance. But seeing those eyes on this stranger who pulled the two sets of characteristics together caught his attention with a vengeance.
Gesturing for Evie and the children to wait, Tyler advanced upon the stranger alone. "Is there something we could help you with?" His voice was neutral, but he scanned the newcomer for guns or other weapons. He could see none. There did seem to be a paintbrush sticking out of his coat pocket, however. Tyler's breath caught in his throat.
The man looked over the crowd of heads ranging from Maria's small one to Daniel and Evie's taller ones, and an expression of puzzlement crossed his brow. "I was told this was the Rodriguez place. Does Angelina Rodriguez live here?"
That question wasn't as easy to answer as it should have been. The man had to be a relation, a close relation to the children and therefore a close relation to their mother. Tyler didn't want to blurt out that Angelina Rodriguez had been washed away in a flood some weeks back. But he wasn't at all certain how to explain why he and Evie and Daniel were now living in this little house. He opted for the evasive answer.
"I'm Tyler Monteigne. May I ask your name?"
The older man grimaced and brushed the dirt off his hand before extending it. "My manners are lacking, as usual. I apologize, Mr. Monteigne. I'm James Peyton, Angelina's brother."
Tyler heard Evie's gasp behind him, and obviously, so did Mr. Peyton. Not daring to turn around and see the questions in her eyes, Tyler shook the man's hand. "Well, Mr. Peyton, in that case, we're mighty glad to see you, but I'm afraid we have unhappy news for you. Why don't we all go inside first?"
In his words and the gracious gestures he used to escort the other man into the house, Tyler revealed his plantation upbringing. Heart pounding, Evie watched the two men go in, but she didn't think she could move a foot. The children followed her example, standing in the dust, watching her with curiosity and waiting for instructions. Daniel was the one to limp up on his crutch and tug at her elbow.
"Come on, Evie. That has to be Carmen's uncle."
Evie's gaze swung to Daniel's familiar face for reassurance. "His name is Peyton." She had known that. She had seen the gravestones in the cemetery and sent the second telegram. She had hoped, but she had hoped for twenty years. Hope was about as real as Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.
Daniel's excitement danced in his eyes. "He could be the clue you're looking for. Come on, Evie. We've got to go in."