Page 25 of Montana Bride By Christmas
What? Indifference? Coldness?
Nothing.
But how could she hope to offer anything to Evan—and Hugh—if she turned into an 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 on the floor?
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.
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 or 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 and 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’d been doing prior to this, she put on the old coat of Logan’s and slipped outside. A brisk wind pulled her skirt 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 wood box, and then dumped all the kitchen scraps 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.
“Come on. This is for you.”
The pup edged closer, wary, ready to retreat if she did anything to indicate she posed a risk.
She kept very still, waiting. The pup reached the bowl and ate eagerly. She patted his head, pleased when he didn’t shy away. “I wonder if someone is missing their pet.” Perhaps she’d slip away and leave a message with Uncle George, who ran the store. He’d find out if the pup belonged to anyone.
