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“No. But if your foot had become badly infected, it could be. Would you have come to us for help?” His eyes, a stormy-sea-color, not blue, not green, were intent on her.
“My cousin managed,” Eva grumbled, realizing she was being difficult and not exactly sure why.
“Did she?” Silas’s look was challenging as he hunkered down in front of her and held out the towel. Obediently she raised her foot and he dried it gently.
“Yes. She was airlifted off, you know. She was a very resourceful woman. She used her cell phone to call for help.”
“Did she?” Silas repeated, not meeting her eyes. “So you’re related to Doris Bonhomme—”
“I’m her second cousin.”
“Sounds like you admire her.”
“I do,” Eva retorted hotly, realizing she’d just answered the questions Silas had posed in the orchard. “I’ve always admired her independence. I think she’s a wonderful woman.”
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