Page 9 of Montana Bride By Christmas
“Supper is almost ready.” She put down one plate. “For Grandfather.” She put down the second one. “For me.” Then, the third plate. “For your papa.” She set the fourth plate down on the side closest to where Evan huddled, but before she could say it was for him, he made a noise, half grunt, half growl, and kicked out one leg, catching Annie behind her knee. Her leg buckled. She caught at the back of the chair, but it slipped from her grasp and banged to the floor.
Evan continued to swing his legs at her, making feral noises.
She fought for balance, trying to get out of his reach.
Hugh strode into the room, scooped his son into his arms, and held him tight, restraining the flailing limbs. “Evan, you’re okay. No one is going to hurt you. I won’t let them.” He sent Annie a look of accusation.
She lifted her chin. She would not defend herself, would not say she’d done nothing to Evan. The attack had been entirelyunprovoked, though she realized that her expectation that him sitting at the table had been a little hasty.
Evan continued to struggle in Hugh’s arms, but Hugh held him firmly. “I won’t let you go until you stop kicking and hitting.”
The boy bared his teeth.
Hugh held Evan’s head immobile. “You can’t bite. You aren’t an animal.”
Again, Hugh’s gaze hit Annie’s with the force of accusation. Did he think she’d judge the child? She shook her head. “It’s my fault. I set a fourth plate on the table, and he knew I meant for him to sit there. It’s too soon.”
She tore her gaze from Hugh’s and looked at the boy in his arms. “Evan?” She waited, hoping he would acknowledge her, but he continued to struggle. “I understand you aren’t ready to join us. That’s okay. When you are, you can sit with us like a little boy who belongs in a family.”
He began to calm down.
She continued. There were so many things she wanted him to understand. “This is your home, your papa.”
Hugh sucked in the air like he’d forgotten to breathe the last few minutes. “I will never let you go again.” His voice broke on the words.
Annie knew from what the preacher had said in the months since he came to Bella Creek that his wife had disappeared along with their son. He’d discovered his wife had died and his son was missing. She wondered about the details. Did he let her go? Why? Or had she left because of something he did?
So many questions. So few answers. Would knowing the facts help her deal with Evan? Or did she want to know because she wondered why Hugh was so set on a businesslike marriage? One would think, with him being a preacher, he would insist on love being present in such a relationship. But despite the questionsflooding her mind she couldn’t imagine asking him about his wife.
Was this one of those secrets they’d agreed could exist?
“Supper is ready.” She turned back to the stove, put the food in serving bowls, and set them on the table.
Meanwhile, Hugh lowered Evan to the floor, where the boy crowded into the corner.
Tears stung Annie’s eyes at the fear on Evan’s face. How was she to prove to him that he was safe and life could be fun?
She found a tin bowl and put the two slices of bread in it, drowning them in gravy. She cut the bread into small pieces, put a spoon in the bowl, and set it on the floor close enough that Evan could reach it but not so close he would feel threatened and lash out again.
Hugh watched her every move. Prepared, she supposed, to intervene.
Grandfather had wakened at the ruckus and observed the whole time.
Annie knew he wouldn’t hesitate to give his opinion and wondered what it would be. She stood by the table, waiting for Hugh to take the lead. He waited, perhaps for the same reason.
“Shall we eat?” she said.
“By all means. Where would you like me to sit?”
She stood behind the chair closest to the stove and indicated the one across the table for Hugh. Grandfather sat at the spot closest to his armchair and across from where Evan sat on the floor.
Hugh stared at his plate, the picture of despair.
Annie wished she could offer some encouragement to him, but she wasn’t sure a touch would be welcome, and there seemed no adequate words.
“I’ll ask the blessing,” he said, and Annie bowed her head, silently praying her own words. Gratitude for the food and forthe chance to earn her own home, but more than that, a request for God’s healing love to fill their hearts.
Grandfather waited until the food had been passed around, and everyone had a good start on eating before he voiced his opinion. “We have our job cut out for us with that one.” He tipped his head toward Evan, who’d pulled the bowl close and turned his back to them.
