Montana Bride by Christmas Page 7

  “You’re worried about him?” Hugh’s softly spoken words drew her attention. His kindly expression caused her throat to tighten.

  “I suppose I am,” she murmured, not wanting to disturb her grandfather. “He isn’t as active as he was last winter.” She told him how things had been a year ago. Her throat tightened. “I can’t bear to think of losing him.” Her voice broke and she ducked her head.

  “It hurts to lose those we love. Sometimes…” He paused and she clung to that moment of silence, hoping for something that would help her know how to deal with loss—other than to pull the edges of herself closed.

  He continued. “Sometimes I wonder if it takes a special person to cope with a profound loss.” He looked away—past her, his gaze on something beyond the walls of the house. She wondered if he still talked about her and Grandfather or if he referred to his own life.

  How deeply had he loved Bernice? Had her loss left him empty and hurting?

  His attention shifted to Evan.

  Perhaps, she thought with startling clarity, he wondered about his son, wondered if the poor child would recover from his loss and mistreatment. A fierceness filled her.

  “We must never give up on him. We must believe the best for him, secure the best for him.”

  His look was somewhat startled and then he smiled. His smile gave way to a chuckle. “And if a Marshall decrees it, it will be so?” He sobered so suddenly it left her dizzy. “I hope I can live up to that standard. That I don’t fail my son.”

  “Failure is not in my vocabulary,” she said with so much conviction his eyebrows headed for his hairline. She rose, her intention to go to the stove and finish supper preparations.

  “That’s an ominous thought.”

  She turned and faced him. She’d hoped he would understand that she meant to prove her worth so he would see that marriage was in the best interests of him and his son. And her, of course. He seemed to have thought her words carried a warning. “When I set my mind to something, I generally manage to do it.”

  Grandfather jerked awake in time to hear her words. “The Marshalls are a stubborn bunch,” he said.

  “Not stubborn,” she corrected. “Determined, strong-minded…” And then the perfect word came to mind. “Committed.” Feeling she’d made herself clear, she continued with supper preparations.

  Not until she turned to set the table did she see that Hugh still watched her. She wished she could say he looked thoughtful. Even grateful that a woman with such strong ideals was willing to be his helpmate. The look in his eyes could best be described as bleak.

  Her insides faltered though she determined she would not reveal it. Did he find the prospect of sharing his life with her so unappealing? Was there something wrong with her? Was that why Rudy had left? Her confidence wavered then she lifted her chin and reminded herself she could out-bake, out-clean, out-take-care-of anyone near or far. And she had four weeks to prove it to him.

  She served up a meal that would have made her brothers express gratitude—mounds of creamy mashed potatoes, smooth rich gravy, tender roast beef from the supply of meat in the woodshed and a colorful array of carrots and winter turnips. Hugh ate distractedly as if the food meant nothing to him.

  Huh. Wait until she served the chocolate pudding she’d made. A recipe handed down from her mother. Mama said her own mother had taught her to make it. She dished out servings of the pudding to everyone. Again, Hugh ate without comment, almost without conscious thought of what filled his spoon. Little Evan, at least, gave a barely audible sigh of pleasure.

  Grandfather pushed away his clean bowl. “Thank you for the great meal.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She vowed she would not look at Hugh, would not expect a comment from him.

  He sucked in air and sat up like a man waking from a dream. “Yes, thank you. A lovely meal.”

  She smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  He leaned back in his chair and stared into the distance as she cleaned up.

  Grandfather had moved to his chair, a book open on his lap. She expected he had dozed again but his eyes were open and he watched Hugh then looked at Annie.

  She knew him well enough to see the warning in his gaze and wondered what he meant to warn her against. However, she would not ask because she had no intention of changing her mind.

  Hugh stirred himself. “It’s time for bed.” He tipped his head to indicate he meant for Evan. Perhaps the prospect of the scene that would ensue explained his contemplative silence.

  Annie sat at the table with the storybook and spoke to Evan. “It’s time for a bedtime story. Do you want to hear about the bear or the fox?”

  He stared at the wall.

  “The bear?” She paused, allowing him time to indicate his preference.

  Nothing.

  “The fox?”

  The slightest twitch of his shoulders.

  “The fox it is, then.” She read a story about an inquisitive little fox who liked to run ahead of his mama fox. The mother fox was always warning him to wait for her but he was in a hurry and rushed onward, never looking to the right or the left for danger. One day he ran right into a trap. The hunter would have gotten him except a kindly little boy came and set him free. The moral of the story was we do things that trap us in sin but Jesus sets us free.

  Annie didn’t think the moral applied to Evan’s situation. Please God, give me the right words for him.

  She thought of something her mama had said a long time ago. “My big brother Dawson once teased me and made me so angry I took the china doll he’d given me and smashed its head.”

  Both Hugh and Evan regarded her with shock.

  “I was immediately sorry but I couldn’t undo what I’d done. Mama was not happy with me but I told her it was Dawson’s fault because he teased me so much.” As she looked back she wondered how she could have been so upset. Far as she could remember, Dawson had only said she was too little to go with him and her other brothers. They didn’t need a little tagalong sister following them.

  “You know what my mama said? Dawson is hurt that you destroyed something he gave you but you hurt yourself much worse than you hurt Dawson. She went on to say, You can’t control what others do but you can trust that God cares for you and sees how much your brother’s teasing hurts you. When things like this happen, remember what God says.”

  She let the comfort of her mother’s advice fill her thoughts before she finished. “‘I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.’”

  She spoke directly to Evan, pleased when he didn’t turn away from her. “God helped your papa find you. Now you are safe. You’re free from bad people who wanted to treat you wrong. You don’t need to be afraid.”

  Evan ducked his head but she knew he heard every word and prayed they would begin a healing process in him.

  *

  One word from Annie’s story stood out in Hugh’s mind. Trapped. A certain, sure warning to him. Annie was eager now for this position. It was new, exciting, challenging. How long before she felt trapped? He couldn’t find an answer. Didn’t care for the one that said it wouldn’t be long. But for now he appreciated her attempt to help Evan see he didn’t need to be afraid any longer.

  “I’ll say our bedtime prayers.” He asked a simple prayer though inside, where God alone heard, he asked for Evan to be normal and for a woman who wouldn’t feel trapped in his life.

  And then it was time for the dreaded going-to-bed routine.

  Annie pushed to her feet. “Bedtime, Evan.” She gave Hugh an encouraging smile.

  Evan crowded into his corner and began to pump his legs in an attempt to keep Hugh away.

  Knowing he must do so, Hugh scooped the boy up, restraining his arms and legs and holding him so he couldn’t bite.

  Annie stayed at Hugh’s side. “You’re safe, Evan,” she murmured. “You don’t need to be afraid. No one is going to hurt you.” She followed to the bedroom, crooning words of comfort and encouragement all the wa
y.

  Hugh lowered Evan to the mattress and he scurried into the corner, his gaze wary.

  Annie started to sing softly. “The Lord’s my shepherd, I’ll not want.”

  Evan shifted his attention to her, openly watching. He pulled the quilt around him.

  She sang the song through three times as Evan’s eyes slowly drooped.

  “I think he’s almost asleep,” Hugh whispered.

  “I’ll tiptoe out.”

  Evan’s eyes jerked open and he watched her but before she made it out the door, his eyes closed again.

  Hugh stared at him a moment. This was a vast improvement over the last few days. It was all due to Annie and for a moment wishing and warning warred in his heart. It was too early to go to bed. Besides, he had things he needed to say and he tiptoed after Annie.

  She turned at the sound of his footsteps. “Is he okay?”

  “Almost asleep. I’ll be able to watch the door from the sitting room. Are you anxious to go to bed or do you want to visit for a while?”

  “Visit? That sounds nice.”

  He heard the warning note in her voice but whether or not she welcomed it there were matters that needed to be cleared up. He waved her to a big armchair and chose one that allowed him a clear view of the bedroom. He had only to shift his attention to his right to see Annie.

  She watched him but as soon as she saw his gaze on her, she shifted to look through to the kitchen where her grandfather slept by the warm stove.

  “If you’re cold I could light the fire.” He indicated the fireplace.

  “No. This is fine.” Someone had left an afghan draped over the arm of the chair and she pulled it across her knees.

  Satisfied she was comfortable for the time being he said, “Those are good stories you read. They have excellent teaching points.”

  She smiled. “No doubt that’s why my mother choose that book. She believed in using every available teaching moment.” She looked thoughtful. “I’m hoping I can do the same for Evan.”

  He gave her time to muse before he brought up one of the subjects on his mind. “I couldn’t help thinking we could all learn something from that fox.”

  “I doubt you’re referring to our Savior freeing us from sin’s trap.” Her eyes were guarded.

  “You’re right. I don’t want to see you trapped by a decision you’ve made in haste.” He detected a slight narrowing of her eyes.

  “And what decision would that be?”

  He chose to ignore the warning note in her voice. “For some reason, right now, you feel you want a future like this.” He waved his arm around hoping she understood what he meant—him, a loveless marriage, a troubled child.

  “You’re suggesting I’m like Freddie Fox—running into danger, not heeding warnings?”

  “I’ve tried to warn you.”

  She held his gaze in wordless resistance, not relenting one inch.

  He glanced down the hall to make sure Evan hadn’t wandered out of the bedroom then he leaned forward to meet her gaze.

  “Annie, who is Rudy?”

  It gave him no pleasure to see shock and pain cross her features before she covered them with a mask of indifference.

  Chapter Five

  Annie jerked back, his question like a slap. “Who told you about Rudy?” She never spoke of the man, never admitted to anyone how much his leaving had hurt.

  “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I heard Logan and your grandfather mention him.”

  If he’d heard the conversation he knew that Logan didn’t like Rudy and Grandfather thought she cared too much for the man. None of them knew how foolishly, desperately, she’d seen him as an answer to her insecurities and fears. She’d given him her heart completely and wholly.

  Even at the time she’d recognized the wrongness of letting him take a place in her heart that belonged to God. Only trusting God could enable her to overcome her fears. That had been a trap she should have fled. A mistake she didn’t mean to repeat. This unimpassioned arrangement with Hugh was totally different. Her heart was guarded, protected.

  “He’s of no concern to you.”

  “A ricocheting bullet is a dangerous thing.”

  He was worried Rudy might return and resume where they’d left off? Even if Rudy came back—and that was highly unlikely—she knew better than to ever trust him again.

  Filled with raw hurt, she sprang to her feet. “That shell is spent. It will never be a danger to you or me or Evan.” She hurried to the kitchen and shook Grandfather’s shoulder. “Wake up. It’s time for bed.”

  The old man pulled himself from his chair, grabbing Annie’s arm for assistance. He was weaker than normal and it concerned her.

  She turned her gaze to Hugh as they passed. “Good night.”

  He must have read more than her anger, must have seen her worry. He patted her on the shoulder. “Perhaps the cold is bothering him.”

  She didn’t want to be touched by his concern. Didn’t want to find his gentle hand comforting. Did not want to feel anything toward this man but—

  What? Indifference? Coldness?

  Nothing.

  However she could not ignore the thought. How could she hope to offer anything to Evan—and Hugh—if she turned into a cold, unfeeling person?

  At the moment she could see no alternative.

  *

  By morning, her hurt had abated. Rudy was over and done with. A closed book. Making a home for herself with Hugh and Evan shaped her future. She looked forward to proving herself and hurried to the kitchen.

  The coffee was ready when Hugh followed Evan into the room. Evan went immediately to his customary corner. She’d placed a thick mat there and a warm blanket to ensure the boy was as comfortable as his position allowed.

  How could she remain distant in light of the little boy huddled in the corner?

  She poured Hugh a cup of coffee and set it before him. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” He downed a mouthful of the hot liquid.

  Annie smiled to herself as she turned back to the stove. Hugh was obviously not a morning person. “Today,” she said for Evan’s benefit. “I’m going to make pancakes just like my mama used to make. Do you like pancakes?” She watched Evan for some signal.

  He sat motionless but she could tell by the way he tipped his head that he listened. So she talked some more. “My pa always gets a sad look on his face when I make them for breakfast. I know he’s missing Mama just like I do.” She let out a little sigh. “Guess maybe I’ll never stop missing her.” She brightened. “But I have so many good memories of her that she’ll always be with me.”

  She felt both Evan’s and Hugh’s interest which encouraged her to continue. “I suppose being the only girl and the youngest meant I spent lots of time with Mama. And like I told your papa yesterday, Mama never missed an opportunity to teach. She would take the smallest thing—like a wildflower—and point out the tiny little details—saying it proved how completely God is in control. The Master Planner, she called him.” She paused and stared out the window, seeing nothing as, in her thoughts, she sat at her mother’s side listening to her words. There isn’t one detail of our lives that God has not designed to create beauty. She’d been taught that from a young age. Sometimes it was hard to see the truth in her own experience. But to come right out and say that God must have made a mistake in letting her mama die so young seemed to besmirch her mother’s memory. As to Rudy, well that was Annie’s own foolish decision. She wasn’t ever going to repeat the lesson she’d learned with him. Her gaze turned to Hugh and she met his dark brown eyes watching her.

  Grandfather hobbled into the room and sat at the table. Annie poured him coffee and then fried pancakes. She made a rabbit-shaped one for Evan and was rewarded with a flicker of amusement in his eyes before he ducked his head.

  She joined the others at the table for breakfast.

  Grandfather ate heartily then leaned back. “Annie, you are a fine cook. Every bit as good as your mother o
r even your grandmother.”

  Annie beamed at him. “Thank you.” Being favorably compared to the grandmother she’d never met was highest praise.

  Grandfather seemed bright and cheerful this morning and it eased a tension Annie hadn’t realized she carried.

  They finished the meal and she began to gather up the used dishes. She lifted the lid on the stove to add more wood, saw she was down to her last two pieces. “I have to go out for more wood.”

  Not giving Hugh a chance to say he’d do it, as he had been doing prior to this, she put on the old coat of Logan’s and slipped outside. A brisk wind pulled her skirts tight about her legs. She shivered in the cold. One good thing about it: she couldn’t see a woman traveling to Bella Creek in response to Hugh’s ad in this weather.

  She squared her shoulders. The last of her stiffness from his comments the night before disappeared. He would not find anyone more suitable than she.

  A movement at the corner of the woodshed caught her attention. A dog pressed to the wall, seeking protection from the wind. A smallish dog, perhaps the runt of a litter. Barely more than a pup.

  She squatted down. “Poor little guy. You’re cold and hungry, aren’t you?”

  The pup wriggled happily at the attention. Big floppy ears flapped across his face.

  “Aren’t you sweet?”

  The little animal had matching brown spots around each eye, a matted brown-and-black hide that might be curly if it was clean, and a white-tipped tail.

  “You stay right there and I’ll bring you something to eat.” She gathered an armload of wood, hurried into the kitchen to deposit it in the woodbox then dumped all the kitchen scrapes into a tin bowl.

  Aware of both her grandfather’s and Hugh’s watchful interest, she took the slop bucket, hoping they would think she only meant to dump it out. She hurried outside and emptied the bucket before she set the bowl of food down a few feet from where the pup sat watching. She hoped he would trust her enough to come close to eat. He wriggled so much he almost lost his balance and she laughed.