Page 27 of Montana Bride By Christmas
He must spare Evan another heartrending separation.
Annie’s soft voice came to him. He unashamedly listened as she told Evan a story about a dog, which reminded him of her trying to take that bowl of food outside without anyone noticing. He’d watched out the window as she fed a stray dog. He had no objection to her doing so. He didn’t care to stand by when animals were in need. His smile of amusement fled. Much less when people—and especially children—were neglected or worse.
The sweet sound of a chuckle drew his attention back to Annie’s voice.
“What do you think, Evan? Should the mama let Spot sit at the table just because he thought he was a boy?”
A moment of silence.
“You’re right. Dogs belong on the floor.”
Had she answered on Evan’s behalf, or had he—as she seemed to believe—given her a clue as to his thoughts? Could she be right?
Already, Annie had given him hope regarding his son. He pressed his hand to his forehead. He didn’t want to grow to depend on her. She was too young. Too eager for life. And there was Rudy. And if not Rudy, there would be some other young, fun-loving man.
He closed the door gently and forced his attention to sermon preparation.
Even through the door, he heard the murmur of her voice and the occasional low rumble of her grandfather’s. He wished he could be in the same room, listening to what she said and observing Evan’s reaction.
Lord, God, I must concentrate. Show me what I need to say to the congregation tomorrow. And please reinforce the walls around my heart and those around Evan’s so that neither of us will grow too dependent on Annie.
Somehow, he made it through the morning, though he couldn’t deny that more than once or twice, he glanced at the closed door, wondering, listening, and then focusing his eyes back on his sermon notes.
A gentle knock came to the door between him and the rest of the house. A soft voice.
“Hugh, dinner is ready.”
He almost leaped to his feet. Then, he exerted every ounce of his self-control and sank back to his chair. “I’ll be right there.” He wasn’t eager. No. Just curious and concerned as to how Evan was doing.
He waited until he heard Annie’s footsteps recede, waited until he thought she must have returned to the kitchen, and then slowly rose and made his way after her. He’d never found Mrs. Ross’s food and care to be lacking, but walking into the kitchen, seeing the table set with a pot of thick potato soup placed in the middle alongside a plate of golden biscuits, to be greeted by a kindly old man, and a smiling young woman, proved enough to cause his footsteps to increase in pace and his heart to do a strange little thump against his ribs.
“Brr. It’s cold. The weather must have worsened.” In truth, the kitchen was warm and cozy. But despite the heater in his office, that far room had been chilly and silent as it should be. Hewas there to work, not wish. His thoughts were making no sense, and he firmly pushed them aside and sat down.
After he said grace, Annie filled the bowls and passed the biscuits. She took food to Evan. “A dog can’t sit at the table because he’s a dog. He belongs on the floor. A boy sits at the table. Not the floor because he isn’t a dog.” She returned to her place without waiting for Evan’s response.
However, Hugh watched the boy, and for the first time, saw what Annie perhaps saw that convinced her he communicated his wishes. Evan tipped his head slightly and looked at the bowl on the floor beside him and then at the chair where Annie expected him to sit. A tiny shudder raced across his thin shoulders. Hugh knew the boy understood what Annie wanted and had considered it but was afraid to join them.
For the first time since he’d found Evan, Hugh saw a basis for hope that his son would be okay. He kept his attention on his food to hide the way his eyes stung. Annie had done this, and his heart flooded with gratitude.
“Will it be okay if I leave for an hour or so this afternoon? I need to make a trip to the store.” Annie’s words broke the silence and brought Hugh back to the reality of his situation.
“Of course. I’ll be here to watch Evan and keep the fire going.”
Grandfather thanked him. “The cold is seeping into my bones. They tell me there will be a storm soon.”
“How soon?” Was it safe for Annie to go out? Hugh looked at her, knowing his concern filled his eyes.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. She gave him a steady look. He couldn’t decide if it was challenging or warning. Would she listen if he asked her not to go?
Grandfather chuckled. “Okay, you two. Stop shooting sparks at each other. Annie, you hurry home, hear? And Hugh, you have to trust her to have a little sense.”
“Oh, I trust she has a little sense.” He almost hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. What had possessed him to say such a thing? And if Grandfather thought she sparked before... Hugh almost ducked away from the brittle flashes flying from her eyes.
“Little enough to answer your ad,” she reminded him. Her gaze shifted to Evan, and her expression softened. She smiled at the boy. “And I don’t regret it a bit. After all, look what I have here. A sweet little boy who is soon going to sit at the table like people do, a warm place for Grandfather for the winter and...” Her eyes came back to Hugh, and she studied him for a heartbeat, two, three...
He held his breath, wondering how she would describe him.
“And a noble preacher.”
