Montana Bride by Christmas Page 3

  She tapped a toe, reminding him he hadn’t finished his statement.

  “The condition I would like your agreement on is that no secret can be allowed that hurts Evan.”

  Her countenance underwent a transformation. A smile wreathed sparkling eyes. “I can promise you I would not do anything by omission or commission to hurt that little boy.” She held up a hand before he could reply. “That is not to say I won’t make mistakes. I ask if you see me making one that you speak to me about it.” She chuckled low in her throat. “I might not thank you at first but once I’m past my annoyance I will.” She ducked her head. “I might not tell you though.”

  Something about her rapid shift of moods, her honest admission of pride—if that’s what he chose to call it—made him want to share a laugh with her. Made him wonder what it would be like to witness both the pride and the humor in action. Seemed he’d get that chance in the next few weeks unless some other woman showed up on his doorstep in answer to his ad because, at this point, he really had no other option.

  He shepherded his thoughts back to the moment. He could have wished for more information from her but understood he had to settle for this compromise. He pushed off the corner of the desk.

  “Very well. As long as we’re both in agreement about doing what’s best for Evan.”

  She tipped her head in acknowledgment. “You can trust me to do what I think is best for him. Speaking of which—” She indicated the open door. “Perhaps I could get to work.”

  “Of course.” He followed her from the office.

  In the kitchen he paused, uncertain what his role was. “Do you want me to show you around?”

  She turned full circle. “I know my way around a kitchen. But could you show me where the vegetables are?”

  He opened the small door by the pantry. “My cold room. You’ll find frozen meat in the cupboard in the woodshed. Milk is delivered every morning. I have an account at your uncle’s store for anything else you need. Feel free to purchase whatever is required.”

  Both their gazes circled back to Evan, crouched in the corner, watching them warily.

  “I don’t know what to do about him.” Hugh spoke softly but he couldn’t keep the despair he felt from his voice.

  Annie smiled and it somehow lifted a portion of his worry. “Give him time. We’re all strangers and he has to know he can trust us.”

  “I don’t know what’s happened to him,” Grandfather Marshall said. “But it’s obvious he’ll need lots of patient handling.”

  Annie smiled at her grandfather. “We have time and patience, don’t we?”

  The old man nodded. They turned to Hugh.

  He would do everything in his power to give his son whatever he needed. “I have the rest of my life.”

  His answer earned him a smile of approval from both of them.

  “Feel free to do whatever you need to do.” Annie’s words were kind yet Hugh felt dismissed. As if he was in the way. The words often spoken echoed in his head. You’ll never be enough. He pushed them away. That was his mother speaking and he no longer had to listen to her. Hadn’t needed to since he was twelve when she died of what the preacher said was a broken heart.

  Hugh knew it was because his brother, whom his mother loved so completely, had died some months before at age seventeen. Hugh had tried to fill his brother’s shoes but every time he did something he thought would help, Ma had uttered those oft-repeated words. You’ll never be good enough to take his place. He had no pa to voice an opinion contrary to hers.

  Annie continued speaking, unaware of the thoughts tangling through Hugh’s mind.

  “I’ll prepare supper and make friends with Evan.”

  Evan stared at her, his gaze revealing absolutely nothing. As if the boy had shut off all connection with the world.

  Anger, pain and sorrow intermingled in Hugh’s heart. Bile burned the back of his throat at how his wee son had been treated. He had to escape before he erupted.

  “I’ll be in the office if you need anything.” He fled to the far room leaving the door half-open so he could hear if Evan or Annie required rescuing.

  He pulled his sermon notes from the drawer and set them on the desk in front of him but didn’t read a word he had penned.

  How could a nineteen-year-old girl from a protective family begin to understand what Evan had been through? He couldn’t help thinking this agreement with Annie was a mistake. The depths of his desperation drove him to prayers that came from the darkest corner of his heart.

  *

  Annie had no idea how to get through to Evan, how to prove to the child she could be trusted. She might have asked Grandfather but he had settled into his armchair by the stove and snored softly.

  However, she knew what it felt like to be lost, alone, afraid. She’d felt that way after her mother had died even though she was surrounded by a loving family. When Rudy had left her, she’d known the same feelings, intensified this time because he chose to leave and she’d willingly opened her heart to him despite knowing the pain of loss. She hadn’t felt she could voice her feelings to her family. Even so, she’d received strength and comfort simply by their presence.

  What would she have done if she’d been alone? Without family? Or worse, treated poorly? Heavenly Father, heal the hurts of this little boy. Help him learn to trust us. Give me wisdom in comforting him.

  She’d have wanted someone to reach out to her, to show they cared, and that she mattered. She could offer that to Evan but she must proceed slowly, letting him set the pace. So she did the only thing she could do at the moment. She talked to him.

  “It’s time for me to make supper. What would you like, Evan?”

  Not so much as a twitch of interest to indicate he heard.

  “Do you like stew?”

  Not a flicker.

  “Potatoes and gravy?”

  Still nothing.

  She listed item after item, all the while her hands busy, washing dishes Mrs. Ross had left from lunch and then peeling potatoes. “Bread and gravy?”

  The slightest movement of his eye. “Good. Then you shall have it. I’ll make pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans and lots and lots of gravy.” She’d found a generously stocked pantry with jars of canned vegetables and several items of baked goods. Two loaves of bread that appeared to be freshly made. Mrs. Ross had done a good job caring for the preacher. Annie was confident she could do just as well.

  She brought out one of the loaves and set it on a cutting board. “How thick do you like your bread?” She placed the knife to indicate a very thin slice. When Evan gave no response, she moved it slightly. Still no response. She widened it so the cut would result in a slice two inches thick.

  Evan’s gaze came to hers.

  She smiled. Despite whatever had happened to the boy, he wasn’t beyond interest in the things around him. “Too big?” She brought the knife closer to the end of the loaf and paused at a generously thick slice but nothing out of the ordinary. The knife hovered.

  Evan watched and she knew it was where he wanted the bread cut. She did so.

  “One slice or two?”

  Evan’s gaze returned to the loaf and she understood he wanted two.

  She chuckled at the way they’d been able to communicate. “You and I will do just fine, won’t we?”

  His gaze held hers a second then he ducked his head. He had his father’s dark eyes and dark hair and would no doubt grow into a man as handsome as Hugh. Right now it was hard to see past the shaggy hair, the guarded eyes and the need for a good wash.

  Annie turned her attention back to supper preparations, more than a little pleased with the way things had gone so far. Given time she had every expectation that Evan would become a happy, normal little boy. Four weeks would be plenty enough time to make Hugh see that he and Evan needed her. She’d gain her own home and family.

  She hummed as she finished meal preparations and set the table but paused as she chose the plates.

  Four
places? Or did Hugh allow Evan to take his meals sitting in the corner? It wasn’t right. There was no need to continue treating him like an animal and she carried four plates to the table.

  “Supper is almost ready.” She put down one plate. “For Grandfather.” She put down the second one. “For me.” Then the third plate. “For your papa.” She set the fourth plate down on the side closest to where Evan huddled but before she could say it was for him, he made a noise half grunt, half growl and kicked out one leg, catching Annie behind her knee. Her leg buckled. She caught at the back of the chair but it slipped from her grasp and banged to the floor.

  Evan continued to swing his legs at her, making feral noises.

  She fought for balance, trying to get out of his reach.

  Hugh strode into the room, scooped his son into his arms and held him tight, restraining the flailing limbs. “Evan, you’re okay. No one is going to hurt you. I won’t let them.” He sent Annie a look of accusation.

  She lifted her chin. She would not defend herself, would not say she had done nothing to Evan. The attack had been entirely unprovoked though she realized her expectation that he sit at the table had been a little hasty.

  Evan continued to struggle in Hugh’s arms but Hugh held him firmly. “I won’t let you go until you stop kicking and hitting.”

  The boy bared his teeth.

  Hugh held Evan’s head immobile. “You can’t bite. You aren’t an animal.”

  Again Hugh’s gaze hit Annie’s with the force of accusation. Did he think she would judge the child? She shook her head. “It’s my fault. I set a fourth plate on the table and he knew I meant for him to sit at the table. It’s too soon.”

  She tore her gaze from Hugh’s and looked at the boy in his arms. “Evan?” She waited, hoping he would acknowledge her but he continued to struggle. “I understand you aren’t ready to join us at the table. That’s okay. When you are, you can sit with us like a little boy who belongs in a family.”

  He began to calm.

  She continued. There were so many things she wanted him to understand. “This is your home, your papa.”

  Hugh sucked in air like he had forgotten to breathe the last few minutes. “I will never let you go again.” His voice broke on the words.

  Annie knew from what the preacher had said in the months since he came to Bella Creek that his wife had disappeared along with their son. Knew he’d discovered his wife had died and his son was missing. She wondered about the details. Did he let her go? Why? Or had she left because of something he did?

  So many questions. So few answers. Would knowing the facts help her deal with Evan? Or did she want to know because she wondered why Hugh was so set on a businesslike marriage? One would think with him being a preacher he would insist on love being present in such a relationship. But despite the questions flooding her mind she couldn’t imagine asking him about his wife.

  Was this one of those secrets they had agreed could exist?

  “Supper is ready.” She turned back to the stove, put the food in serving bowls and set them on the table.

  Meanwhile, Hugh lowered Evan to the floor where the boy crowded into the corner.

  Tears stung Annie’s eyes at the fear on Evan’s face and she vowed she would prove to him that he was safe and life could be fun.

  She found a tin bowl and put the two slices of bread in it, drowning them in gravy. She cut the bread into small pieces, put a spoon in the bowl and set it on the floor close enough Evan could reach it but not so close he would feel threatened and lash out again.

  Hugh watched her every move. Prepared, she supposed, to intervene.

  Grandfather had wakened at the ruckus and observed the whole time.

  Annie knew he would not hesitate to give his opinion and wondered what it would be. She stood by the table waiting for Hugh to take the lead. He waited, perhaps for the same reason.

  “Shall we eat?” she said.

  “By all means. Where would you like me to sit?”

  She stood behind the chair closest to the stove and indicated the one across the table for Hugh. Grandfather sat at the spot closest to his armchair and across from where Evan sat on the floor.

  Hugh stared at his plate, the picture of despair.

  Annie wished she could offer some encouragement to him but she wasn’t sure a touch would be welcome and there seemed no adequate words.

  “I’ll ask the blessing,” he said and Annie bowed her head, silently praying her own words. Gratitude for the food, and for the chance to earn her own home, but more than that, a request for God’s healing love to fill their hearts.

  Grandfather waited until the food had been passed around and everyone had a good start on eating before he voiced his opinion. “We have our job cut out for us with that one.” He tipped his head toward Evan who had pulled the bowl close and turned his back to them.

  There was no clang of the metal spoon against the metal dish and Annie knew the boy ate with his fingers. At the moment it seemed the least of their worries. But Grandfather’s words encouraged her. He had made it clear he meant to ally himself with her and Hugh in winning this boy’s trust and cooperation.

  Hugh put his fork down as if he’d lost interest in the meal. “Any suggestions?”

  Grandfather also lowered his fork to the table and considered his words. “I once knew an old Indian so weathered and wrinkled you could get lost in the crevasses of his face. He and I worked for the same outfit back before I got married.” He paused and grew somber as he always did when he thought about his long-dead wife. “I knew him several weeks before I heard him utter a word. When I asked him about it he said he never had anything to say until then.” Grandfather’s gaze went to Evan. “I expect it’s the same with him. Same with leaving his corner. He’ll do it when life beyond that spot is more interesting, more enticing than the walls he’s pressing into.”

  Hugh turned his gaze toward his son.

  Annie watched him, her heart slowly melting as sorrow intermingled with hope in his face.

  She was needed here and she could think of no better reason for seeking an arrangement with Hugh than to offer one little boy a safe home.

  Hugh’s concern for Evan would guarantee Annie a safe home as well.

  Unless a more suitable woman appeared on his doorstep in the next four weeks. She had to assume he had sent advertisement for a wife beyond the possibilities of Bella Creek.

  Outside the wind battered the walls of the parsonage. A cold draft swept by her feet and she knew the temperature had dropped. If it snowed, travel would be difficult. Perhaps too difficult for any interested woman to be willing to venture to Bella Creek in answer to a request for a mail-order bride.

  Being a ranch-raised young woman she couldn’t bring herself to pray for a storm to break all records but perhaps God would see fit to send enough snow to keep visitors away.

  Surely that wasn’t too selfish a request.

  *

  Hugh tried to relax. Grandfather Marshall’s words of support and encouragement meant a great deal to him. As did Annie’s insight into why Evan had struck out. He noticed she rubbed her leg when she rose to make the tea.

  “Did he kick you?” he asked, softly, not wanting to upset Evan.

  “It’s nothing.” She glanced at Evan. “He didn’t do it out of spite.”

  Again, she had an understanding of the child that rather surprised him. The few times he’d seen her before led him to believe she cared only about having fun though if he’d stopped to think he might see that she carried a huge load of responsibility and some lighthearted activity on occasion might be in order.

  The thought only darkened his mind. There would be little enough time or opportunity for fun while caring for Evan. Hugh had consulted Dr. Baker who would offer no assurances that Evan would ever be okay.

  “Some children,” the doctor said, “are permanently damaged by being treated so poorly. Others, however, respond to patience and love. Just look at little Ellie.” He
referred to the baby his daughter and Conner Marshall had adopted. The difference being that she was so young compared to Evan.

  As Hugh drank his tea, he tried not to dread the upcoming bedtime. Three nights Evan had been with him and three nights had been an experience he wouldn’t wish on anyone. It would surely test Annie’s commitment. But if she left, what was he to do?

  He again prayed for a suitable woman. Again no one came to the door except for the wind and he shifted his attention to Evan. He’d soon learned that to look directly at him caused the boy to shrink into the corner and turn his back to Hugh so he pretended to look out the window.

  “Sounds like the wind is getting worse. We might get a storm.” He watched Evan out of the corner of his eye. The boy looked at the window, then, from under lowered eyelids, watched Hugh. What was he thinking? What did he see when he looked at the adults? Was he able to assess their reliability?

  Annie quietly cleaned the table and did the dishes while the dread in Hugh’s thoughts continued to grow.

  She finished and stood watching Evan. He wished he could read her mind. She brought her gaze to him, her eyes holding the darkness of the night. “What do you do about getting him to bed?”

  He pushed to his feet. “Can we talk in my office?” He turned to the older man. “Would you mind staying with him?”

  Grandfather waved them away. “Sort things out. You’ll need to be in agreement if you’re to reach him.”

  Hugh followed Annie to his office, careful to leave the door open so her grandfather could see them. He could tell by the set of her shoulders and the tip of her head that she expected he was going to take her to task about something. Nothing was further from the truth.

  “About bedtime,” he began and was relieved to notice her shoulders relaxed. “It’s been difficult so I thought it best to warn you.”

  “Tell me about it.” She sat in the chair he’d indicted earlier and he sank to his own across the desk.

  “As you can see, he doesn’t like to be touched and doesn’t like anyone to get too close. I think the woman who kept him let him sleep on a mat in the corner. He relieved himself in the slop bucket.” His throat tightened with the memory of how he’d found the boy and the words poured out as he described the situation.