Page 60 of Montana Bride By Christmas
Hugh wokeup the next morning and lay listening. When he heard the wind still battering the house and the snow pelting against the walls, he smiled. It still stormed, shutting them in. It was wrong to be glad of a dangerous storm, and he prayed that God would keep everyone safe.
Being together like this offered something he knew wouldn’t have been possible under normal circumstances.
An opportunity to kiss Annie? Though it seemed not to have held much meaning for her. She hadn’t even mentioned it.
Yesterday, her enthusiasm for Christmas had proven to be contagious. He wanted a Christmas to remember. And one for Evan to recall with fondness, just as Hugh had one with Kenny that he’d never forget.
He’d ended up with a carving that almost resembled a camel. It had only taken Grandfather a few minutes to make it believable.
Hugh lay in the cold dark, feeling pleased with life at the moment. The feeling couldn’t last. Knew he should be resisting it. But that was the thing about the storm...it made impossible dreams possible.
Doggy breath and a wet kiss startled him from his daydreams. “Happy, do you want out?”
The puppy whined.
Evan scrambled to his feet and into his clothes. Since his bath, he’d changed into a nightshirt at bedtime. He rushed to the little room at the end of the hall to relieve himself, and Hugh hurriedly dressed and took Happy to the door to let him out. He waited with the door closed until he heard the puppy whine then let him in. Happy’s icy feet clattered on the floor as he raced to the mat and sat shivering, giving Hugh accusing looks.
“Hey, it’s not my fault it’s storming out. But okay. I’ll get the fire going.” He stirred up the embers and added wood.
Annie stepped into the room, shivering. “You beat me up this morning.” She quickly prepared a pot of coffee.
“Thanks to Happy, who wanted out. Now look at him, sitting there with big sad eyes because he blames me for turning him out in the cold.”
“Poor puppy,” she crooned, rubbing Happy’s neck and patting his head. Happy wriggled with joy.
“Poor puppy? He has it pretty good, I would say. He could be out in the woodshed.”
She patted his arm. “Poor Hugh. Are you feeling sorry for yourself?”
“Of course not.” Except maybe he was. Why should Happy get that kind of attention? He stared at the coffee pot, willing it to boil. Once he had a hot drink, he wouldn’t be jealous of an innocent puppy.
Grandfather limped into the kitchen just as the coffee boiled. Hugh poured two cups of the hot liquid and carried them to the table.
“Storm will last another day,” Grandfather announced.
“Huh.” Hugh didn’t dare put any sort of emotion into his grunt. Another day of storm. He couldn’t complain.
Annie hummed as she prepared breakfast. Evan and Happy had heads together looking at the little stuffed dog that Annie had made. He saw Evan’s lips moving, but the boy didn’t speak. He’d never heard Evan say a word. Would he ever talk? A great sense of failure swept through him. Was it his fault…his failure…that affected the boy rather than his recent conditions? He kept his eyes on the contents of his coffee though he ached to look to Annie seeking some kind of reassurance.
He drained the cup and forced his thoughts in a different direction. It struck him how both he and Evan had suffered because of the failure of their parents, and he vowed he would somehow make it up to his son. Exactly how he’d do that, he couldn’t say but having Annie here seemed like a good start. What would he do if someone more suitable showed up on his doorstep?
He slowly filled his lungs, filling his heart with courage and strength. He would do what he must and send Annie away. She could do far better than settle for him.
His mind clear on the matter, he ate the breakfast she set before him. Would they do more Christmas preparations today?
Annie was awfully cheerful, and he wondered why. She saw his look of curiosity.
She bounced forward in her chair. “I remembered something my mother did with me when I was little. She made me dough to play with. I think I can remember how to make it. We can roll it out and cut out shapes to hang on our Christmas tree. Won’t that be fun?”
For the space of two seconds, he clung to his desire to keep things businesslike between them. Then he turned to Evan. “What do you think, son? Does that sound like fun?”
Evan looked hard at Hugh. He realized the boy was trying to guess how Hugh felt about it. Hugh smiled, letting some of his hesitant eagerness show.
Evan nodded.
“Good,” Annie said. As soon as she finished the dishes, she mixed up flour and salt and water until she declared it the right consistency. They spent the rest of the morning rolling it out and cutting out stars, Christmas trees and cross shapes. She poked a hole in the top of each. “So we can put a string through to hang them,” she explained. She carefully arranged them on a tray and set it in the warming oven to dry.
He wondered what they would do in the afternoon. Would she continue to plan activities that kept them together? He soon had his answer.
