Montana Bride by Christmas

by Linda Ford

  “I’ve searched for him for months. At times I thought I would fail to find him. It wasn’t until I offered a reward of twenty dollars that the woman came forward. Twenty dollars! That’s all my son was worth. She told me when Bernice was dying—”

  “Bernice?”

  “She was my wife.”

  “I see.”

  She couldn’t begin to see what it had been like. Bernice’s 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 abuse or 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 soon.” 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 had 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 talked. 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 he was far too old to be flattered by Annie’s defense of him. Knowing all that didn’t change the fact that he felt like grinning 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 during the day.”

  She nodded.

  “So I carry him to my room. As you can imagine, he kicks and screams the entire time.” He couldn’t help the little tremble in his voice. The whole procedure left him dazed and defeated. “I have a mattress on the floor for him. As soon as I put him there, he scrambles off and pushes it away. It’s like he’s resisting me, not the bed.”

  “Hugh, he’s afraid if he trusts you he’s going to be disappointed or worse, hurt.”

  She spoke with such certainty that he realized more lay behind her observation than she wanted him to know. Her little secret. And it did affect Evan. It made her more understanding. He was about to ask for her to explain but she spoke again.

  “Does he eventually use the mattress? Does he sleep?”

  “The first night he curled up in a ball in the corner. I covered him after he’d fallen asleep. Yesterday he waited until he thought I had dozed off before he crawled to the mattress and pulled the quilt over him.”

  “That’s great progress.” She grinned widely.

  For the first time since he’d found Evan, he almost felt encouraged. “I was so afraid of what he’d do the first night, I pulled my bed against the door to make sure he wouldn’t run off.”

  “Somehow I don’t see him running. Now if he was still with that woman I would wonder why he didn’t but I guess it means he’s smart enough to know he couldn’t survive on his own.”

  Hugh couldn’t help but smile. “I guess that shows that the boy has a good mind despite the way he acts.”

  “Oh, he’s bright enough.” She told him how she’d been able to tell what he liked to eat by his reaction. “I regret that I thought we had made more progress than we had. It was my fault he acted the way he did.”

  “I don’t suppose it’s anyone’s fault. We just have to learn to understand him.”

  “I’ve been praying that God would give me wisdom and patience.”

  To hear how she’d been able to communicate with Evan and to know she’d prayed for him renewed his courage. “Thank you. Do you mind if we pray together before we head back to him?” Normally he had no hesitation about offering to pray for others but this was his need not someone else’s.

  “I’d like that.” She leaned forward, her hands clasped together on top of his desk and her head bowed.

  He stifled an urge to cradle her hands between his. Instead, he bowed his head and prayed for wisdom, understanding and healing for his son. Silently, he additionally prayed for a more mature woman to come to his door because, despite his resolve to keep things completely businesslike, he found Annie’s concern and care very appealing and it frightened him. He must, above all else, guard his heart against the risk of caring for a woman, especially one who would soon realize that she could do far better than spend her life with a man who could offer nothing but a home with him and his hurting young son.

  Chapter Three

  Annie kept her head bowed several seconds after Hugh said Amen, waiting for God to direct her thoughts. When an idea came to her mind, she took it as from Him and lifted her head.

  The look in Hugh’s eyes almost made her forget what she’d been about to say. He watched her, looking both weary and hopeful at the same time. That was good, she told herself. He was beginning to see how helpful she would be. But the way his gaze clung to hers as if looking for something more left her breathless. She couldn’t say if he found what he sought or if she could even offer it. There were far too many unknowns between them.

  There was no need for her to know more about him. And she certainly didn’t want to kn
ow about his marriage nor why his wife found him lacking. In what way? She tried and failed to imagine what he meant.

  She slid her gaze past his to the night-blackened window. They had a common goal—taking care of Evan. She recalled something she’d heard somewhere. Begin as you mean to go on. She meant to become Evan’s mother and Hugh’s wife. Therefore, she must begin to act like it.

  “I think a bedtime routine is essential. So could we establish one starting tonight?” She couldn’t keep looking past him and gauge his reaction so she brought her attention back to him. The quirk of one eyebrow informed her that her request had caught him off guard.

  “It seems we have a routine,” he said with a large dose of irony. “I pick him up. He fights me. I take him to the room and keep him there.” His laugh lacked mirth.

  It certainly wasn’t how she wanted to go on. She smiled. “Maybe we could work at improving that routine.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  Did she detect a note of hope? She wanted to believe so. “My mother always read to me at bedtime and said prayers with me. When my papa was home, he came in to hear my prayers.” Her voice deepened. “When I look back, I wonder how I could have taken such ordinary things for granted.”

  “I’m sorry about your mother.”

  She tried to break from his compassionate look but found herself unable to do so. Her insides clenched. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Mama had been dead more than four years. Annie knew she should be over her grief but it often welled up inside her like a bubbling pot of hot jam, about to overflow. She swallowed hard, striving to control the sudden rush of sorrow. “Thank you.” She hadn’t been able to keep the emotion out of her voice and wondered how he would react. “I shouldn’t be upset by the memory.”

  His smile was soft and gentle. “Some sorrows never go away. A person simply learns how to be at peace with them.”

  She met his gaze, practically drinking in the comfort he offered. “I can see why you’re the preacher.” She managed a little smile. “You know the right words to say.”

  “Thank you.” Did she detect a bit of a catch in his voice? That seemed strange. But a trickle of hope entered her heart. If he needed to hear words of encouragement, she could give them. But not right now. “I’d like to start a bedtime routine such as I knew but I don’t think he’ll be in a frame of mind for stories and prayers after a struggle to get him into bed. Instead, why don’t we let him stay in his safe corner while I read a story? And then you could say his bedtime prayers.” She didn’t want to exclude Hugh from the opportunity. “I think we need to establish normal behavior for Evan as quickly as he’ll let us.”

  Hugh nodded slowly. “I like the idea. Just so long as you don’t expect too much of him.”

  “I hope I’ve learned my lesson about pushing him too hard.”

  Hugh got to his feet and waited for Annie to go ahead of him.

  “I brought a storybook.”

  He remained in the sitting room as she hurried to find the book from among her belongings and then rejoined him. Together they entered the kitchen.

  Grandfather nodded in his chair. He must have been exhausted. It had been a long day. She would suggest he go to bed but knew he wouldn’t go while both she and Hugh were still up.

  “I’ll make tea.” She set the kettle to boil and brought out a selection of cookies from the pantry. As she waited for the water to boil, she talked, knowing Evan listened even when he gave no indication of it.

  “I think it’s nice to have tea together before bed,” she said, looking to Hugh to see if he understood her need to explain for Evan’s sake.

  Hugh’s slight nod and barely-there smile encouraged her to go on.

  And brought a sudden stutter to her voice. She forced herself to speak firmly and steadily as she continued. “When I was about Evan’s age, I remember my mother making milk tea for me. And I always got two cookies. Of course, I always chose the two biggest ones.” She contemplated how best to connect with Evan. “My mother died a few years ago. So no one reads me bedtime stories anymore but that’s okay because now I can read them to Evan.”

  From the slight tilt of his head she knew he listened.

  She poured the tea and gave a cupful to Hugh and Grandfather. She made milk tea and set the cup and a small plate holding two cookies before Evan then sat across from Hugh.

  He gave her a smile that seemed to say he approved of her efforts. Good. It meant they were headed in the right direction. He’d soon learn she had much to offer him and his son.

  She sipped her tea slowly and enjoyed the two cookies she had chosen and then opened the storybook. It was the same one her mother had read from when Annie was Evan’s age and as the memories of those days assailed her, tears filled her eyes and clogged her throat. Not wanting Hugh to see how fragile her emotions were, she kept her head lowered.

  “Are you okay?” he asked after a moment.

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  Grandfather squeezed her hand. “It’s okay to miss your mama.”

  “Of course it is,” Hugh assured her.

  A strangled squeak drew the attention of all three adults to Evan. His shoulders twitched. As if he cried? It was impossible to tell as he kept his back to them.

  Annie looked to Hugh. Raised her eyebrows to silently ask if they should go to him.

  He lifted his shoulders ever so slightly. He didn’t know any more than she did and his mouth worked.

  Her heart tore at the sign of his uncertainty. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be to watch his son struggle with so many problems and not know if any offer of comfort would send him into a fury…one born of fear, she was certain. It made her doubly grateful to have had a tender mother and a supportive family and she promised herself she would give Evan the same if he would let her.

  It seemed no one quite knew what to do and she could only think of one thing so she cleared her throat and began to read. The book was a collection of Bible stories and moral tales and her favorite had always been about the old farm dog who rescued some orphaned kittens and raised them. The dog fought off a coyote that tried to get the kittens and chased away a hawk. At one point she was sorely injured but kept on tending the three kittens.

  “The moral of the story,” Annie read, “is that God loves us even better than that dog loved her kittens. He claims us because He loves us. He takes care of us—1 John 3 verse 1 says ‘Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God.’” She needed to say more for Evan’s sake. “Some children are in families they weren’t born into and they are loved. My brother Logan and his wife adopted three children.” It struck her that the children’s circumstances were somewhat like Evan’s. They’d been neglected and abused by a man claiming to be their stepfather. Perhaps now was not the time to talk about that. “And my brother Conner and his wife have adopted a little girl and love her dearly. My oldest brother Dawson has a little girl but his wife died so Mattie had no mama.” She sensed Evan straining toward her. “Dawson married a very fine lady by the name of Isabelle and Isabelle is Mattie’s new mama. They love each other very much. God loves each of us even more.”

  She and Hugh considered one another across the table. The tension seemed to have left his face. If the things she’d said had accomplished that then thanks be to God for guiding her words.

  “My mama or papa always said prayers with me before bed.”

  Hugh nodded. “I’m the papa so I will do it.”

  Annie knew he wasn’t excluding her but simply helping Evan understand his role in the family.

  “Let’s pray,” Hugh said and the adults bowed their heads.

  Annie stole a look at Evan. He had turned his head slightly to watch his father. She knew the boy would have showed her his thin back if he realized she watched him and would have disguised the longing in his eyes. Seeing it gave Annie hope. Evan knew what he wanted but was afraid to trust it could be his.

&n
bsp; It was up to Annie and Hugh and even Grandfather to prove to Evan that he could trust their love and concern.

  Hugh prayed for a good night’s sleep for them all. He asked for people to be safe in the cold winter wind and he especially thanked God for allowing him to find Evan and bring him home.

  Annie continued to watch the boy from under the curtain of her lashes and saw wonder and doubt intermingled in his face.

  “Amen.” Hugh met Annie’s eyes across the table. His eyes were troubled.

  She understood he didn’t look forward to getting Evan into bed. She rose. “My mama always said it was time for me to go to sleep after the prayers were said.”

  Evan crowded into the corner as if he wanted to become part of the walls.

  Annie tipped her head toward Hugh. It had to be done. She went to Hugh’s side. “We’re in this together,” she murmured.

  “Thanks.” With a deep sigh, he got to his feet and faced his son. “Evan, it’s bedtime and I’m going to take you to bed.”

  The boy stiffened and then his legs windmilled.

  “Evan,” Annie said. “We all have our own beds and we all sleep in them. That’s what people in a family do. Grandfather sleeps in his bed. I sleep in mine. You sleep in yours with your papa in his.”

  Hugh sucked in air like his lungs had no bottom and then gathered the boy in his arms. As expected, Evan tried to kick, tried to squirm from Hugh’s grasp, but Hugh was prepared and held his son firmly.

  Seeing the look of distress on both of their faces, Annie started after Hugh.

  “I’ll be right here,” Grandfather said.

  “I have to help with Evan,” Annie said, following Hugh down the hallway to the room he and Evan shared.

  She had taken care of three brothers, a father and grandfather so stepping into a room where a male slept was nothing new to her and yet this was different and her cheeks burned as she glanced about. There was a mattress against the far wall and a tangle of blankets. There was also a narrow bed with the covers pulled tight. Odd, the men in her family never made their beds. She had assumed men simply didn’t know how or didn’t care. She took in the rest of the room. A wardrobe with the door closed. A coat hanging from a hook on the wall. A table next to the bed which held a lamp, a Bible and three books stacked neatly. From under the bed peeked a valise.