Page 11 of Montana Bride By Christmas
“She was my wife.”
“I see.”
She couldn’t begin to see what it had been like. News of his dead wife’s behavior had circulated. Her dishonesty, her sneaking about with other men, and then her disappearance.
“I’m sorry. Please continue.”
He sucked in air. “Bernice told her to hang onto Evan until I came, and I’d pay for him. The woman should have been charged with something. She barely kept him alive, and now I don’t know if he’ll ever be right.” He couldn’t go on.
She had her head down as if studying her hands folded in her lap.
What was she thinking? Had she been moved at all by Evan’s plight?
He was about to go on, describing bedtime, when she lifted her head, and he saw a sheen of tears.
“How can anyone treat a child that way?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “It’s criminal.”
“It is criminal, in my opinion, but Sheriff Jesse assures me there isn’t anything he can do about it.”
“I hope that changes someday.” She spat out each word as if she couldn’t wait to get the bitter taste of them off her tongue.
His estimation of her rose several degrees. At least she wasn’t one of those men or women who thought children were of little value unless they could work. “Me too. But it won’t undo what has happened to Evan.”
“I’m sorry and angry at the same time.” She almost choked. “So sorry for Evan.” A beat. “And you.” Her voice strengthened. “But so angry at that woman. Please don’t ever tell me who she is or where she lives. I might hunt her down and exact justice.”
He imagined her in buckskins, carrying a long gun and the fire of vengeance upon her face. It so tickled him that he chuckled. “I think for everyone’s sake, that will be one of my secrets.”
Their gazes locked, and he got the sensation that she saw far more than he wanted her to, but he couldn’t pull away.
“Hugh—may I call you that?”
He nodded. Hardly seemed they could stand on formality if they were going to be living under the same roof.
“Hugh, what happened to your wife?”
Her question slammed through him, leaving him floundering for footing. Having a son who exploded at his slightest touch made him feel helpless and frustrated, but being reminded of Bernice brought a flood of failure. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Another of those secrets?”
He couldn’t tell if she found the idea annoying or if she didn’t care.
She studied her hands again, examining one fingernail after the other.
Just when he thought she’d accepted he didn’t mean to tell her more, she began to speak. “In this case, I think it affects Evan. If Bernice left after a squabble, he might have heard you and...well, it might make him frightened of you.”
“We didn’t squabble.” There were times they hardly spoke. Bernice preferred to talk to other men. “She found me sadly lacking.”
Annie stared at him. “Lacking? In what way?” She seemed to find it hard to believe.
He told himself her surprise didn’t please him. After all, what did she know about him? Yet it did his ego good to think she might not think it possible. He shrugged. “I wasn’t exciting enough. Didn’t offer enough adventures. I found it difficult to please her.” Just as he had with his mother.
Annie made a derisive noise. “That sounds to me like she had a problem, not you.”
Hugh knew there was more to it than that; just as he knew that he was far too old to be flattered by Annie’s defense of him. Knowing all that didn’t change the fact that he almost smirked like a silly kid. Instead, he coughed a little. “About Evan’s bedtime...”
Annie tipped her head and grinned. “That is why we’re here, isn’t it?”
He grinned back, then sobered. What was wrong with him that he responded to a young girl’s attention so readily? He had to concentrate. “I can’t let him stay in the kitchen on his own any more than I can let him sleep on a mat like an animal.” He held up his hands in exasperation. “I know. You wonder how letting him sit there all day is any different, but somehow it is. At least I know he’s safe and in the company of others.”
