by Linda Ford
Annie nodded. “My heart goes out to him. Can you imagine losing your mother and not having a father to show you a little compassion?”
Both of them had lost their mothers and knew the sense of loss it brought.
Carly shook her head. “Poor little tyke. I hope he will be okay.” They paused to listen to Hugh’s deep-voiced rumble coming from the kitchen.
Carly gave Annie a troubled look. “I hope you’ll be okay too.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you are already half in love with Hugh. He says he would still like to find an older woman. A spinster. If he does and you have to leave, I fear you will be terribly hurt.”
Annie shook her head hard, decisively. “I have no intention of falling in love. But I will prove to him that I’m the perfect woman for his need.”
And if she felt a shadow of doubt concerning either of those statements, she wasn’t about to admit it. Besides, she knew better than to put her heart at risk.
Chapter Eight
When Hugh heard all the laughter coming from Annie’s room as she and Carly worked on whatever project they undertook, he told himself it proved this was not the place for her. How soon before she discovered how restrictive life would be as a preacher’s wife? He’d set his mind to seeing her as only temporary and then she emerged with a goofy-looking stuffed dog she and Carly had made and talked to it like it was real, gaining Evan’s attention.
Hugh was finding it harder and harder to remember why she was unsuitable.
*
On Monday morning, he made a quick trip out to get the mail. At the store, he saw an ad posted by the door describing a dog. He leaned closer and read Annie’s name for the person to contact. She was trying to find the owner for the dog in the shed. Why must she continually do things that earned his admiration?
He returned home and forced himself to remain in his office with the door closed. Even so he could hear the murmur of her voice and an occasional response from her grandfather. It was all he could do not to slip out and see what she was doing. He pictured her up to her elbows in hot water as she did the laundry. Or hunkered down facing Evan and talking to him. Perhaps using that silly stuffed dog to get Evan’s interest. She had managed to get through to the boy in many ways and that earned a lot of respect from him.
He closed his eyes and reminded himself to concentrate. He worked on next week’s sermon in the hopes of keeping his thoughts off her and her admirable qualities.
At noon, she called him to join them for dinner. Wet garments hung from lines behind the stove filling the air with moisture that beaded on the windows where it froze into intricate patterns.
He took note of how she had filled a bowl with scraps and knew it was for the dog. And he immediately reiterated her good points—and there were many. For his peace of mind he should hurry back to his office but he preferred to spend time with his son in the warm kitchen. Spot, the stuffed dog, sat in the chair he hoped Evan would soon occupy.
Annie put a plate in front of Spot and spoke to Hugh. “I really think Spot would like to sit on the floor on a nice warm mat but I see Evan has that place. Poor Spot. He’ll have to keep pretending he’s a boy.”
Hugh watched Evan. He shifted as if making room on his mat for the dog then looked from the chair, back to the mat. Was he considering sitting at the table?
Hugh looked to Annie, knowing his eyes brimmed with gratitude.
She smiled, looking rather pleased with herself.
Be careful how much approval you show, his brain shouted. It was a fact he had every reason to be grateful for all she was doing. And no reason, that he could recall, not to let her know.
A short time later, the meal over, he lingered over his coffee, content to simply enjoy the warmth of the kitchen. A knock sounded on the front door. He looked at Annie. “Are you expecting someone?”
“Not me.”
Reluctantly, he left the comfort of the kitchen and crossed the living room to answer the door. Six ladies with heads high faced him.
“Pastor, we need to talk to you.”
His heart sank at the tone in Mrs. Shearer’s voice. He stepped back to let the ladies enter. “Won’t you have a seat?”
They marched in, looked about and sat down…perching on the edges of seats in the living room. He grabbed the only remaining chair and sat, certain he wasn’t going to like what they had to say. They did not look like they had come offering assistance.
Mrs. Shearer appeared to be the spokeswoman. She glanced toward the kitchen. She couldn’t likely see Grandfather in his armchair and if Annie had a lick of sense she would be staying out of sight.
The outer door opened and closed. Had she decided to leave so she wouldn’t overhear a conversation between Hugh and some of his parishioners? Knowing she had gone outside allowed him to relax marginally.
Mrs. Shearer leaned forward, her look intense. “I speak on behalf of the entire church—”
Hugh strongly doubted that.
“When I say we find it most objectionable that you are living here with young Miss Marshall without the benefit of marriage.” She sniffed and adjusted her gloves. The five other ladies imitated her.
Hugh didn’t show the least reaction though inside, anger ignited. Forcing himself to speak calmly, he said, “May I ask why you object?”
Mrs. Shearer sputtered. “I would think it would be obvious, especially to a man of God.”
“I’m sorry but it’s not. There is adequate chaperoning. Unless you don’t think Mr. Marshall is trustworthy.” He let the words hang in the air.
Mrs. Shearer lifted a finger in a scolding manner. “As the preacher you must live a life above reproach. Think of the example you are setting to the unmarried boys and girls around you. Pastor Arness, you need to reconsider your actions.” She pushed to her feet and her followers did the same. “By the way, I have an unmarried sister coming to visit for Christmas. I think you’d find her ideal. I expect her to arrive any day.” She waited expectantly.
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
With her nose in the air, she steamed for the door, with five righteously indignant women in her wake.
He escorted them as far as the door and waited until they marched down the street. By exerting every ounce of self-control he managed not to bang the door shut.
Thankfully Annie didn’t hear any of that.
She stormed into the living room. “You promised me four weeks.”
“When did you come back inside?”
“In time to hear that woman tell you about her sister.”
He slowly turned to face her. My but she was a sight all fired up. Her eyes flashed shards of blue, her cheeks were touched with pink from being out in the cold and perhaps because of her anger. She had her fists jammed on her hips as she glowered at him.
“I also said until someone more suitable came along.” Though he didn’t mean to suggest that Mrs. Shearer’s sister would be more suitable. There was no way of judging until he actually met the woman. She might be ideal. Unless she was remotely like her sister.
“Why aren’t I suitable? Tell me where I’ve failed.”
He couldn’t come up with a single response. Because she had not failed in any way. Did that make her ideal?
“I’m tempted to say it would serve you right if you replaced me with someone with a sharp tongue and a critical spirit.” Her anger fled, replaced with a look of regret. “But that little boy in there deserves much better.” She returned to the kitchen, leaving Hugh feeling like he’d been hit by a flying boulder. He hadn’t said he would replace Annie. Didn’t even know if he wanted to. He didn’t know what he wanted and he grabbed his coat and hat and hurried from the house, his steps not slowing until he reached the frozen creek at the edge of town. He stopped there and stared at the ice formations. Why was he letting himself get so worked up about this matter? All he needed was someone to help care for Evan. What he did not need was someone who would expect more from him than he could give.
/> Was Annie wanting more than he could give…or more than he wanted to give? She’d confessed she was afraid of love. Was he any different? Seemed to him that love came with a lot of expectations.
A galloping horse thundered toward him. He recognized John Lewis whose wife, Ida, had been ill for some time.
“Preacher, can you come right away? My wife is doing poorly and asks for you.”
“I’ll be glad to come. I’ll need to get my horse.”
“I won’t wait for you.” And John galloped away.
Hugh jogged back to town, pausing at the livery barn to get his horse saddled. He rode back to the church and went into the house through the office. He took his Bible in hand and went through to the kitchen.
Annie’s expression shifted from welcome to studied indifference. He might have been looking into his son’s eyes for all the emotion they revealed. However, he didn’t have time to deal with the matter at the moment. Not that he knew of any way to do so.
“I have to go to the Lewis place. Ida is doing poorly.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear it. Wait, I’ll wrap a cake for you to take. And if I can help in any way…”
Their fingers touched as he took the cake from her. His hand froze in midair. She didn’t pull back either.
“Be safe.” She dropped her hand to the pocket of her apron.
“I will. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“We’ll be fine.”
He knew they would. He went to Evan and knelt in front of him. “I have to go and help a sick lady. Grandfather and Annie will be here while I’m gone. They will take care of you.” The boy didn’t look at Hugh but Hugh knew he listened and understood.
He hated to leave but he didn’t have a choice. “Goodbye.” He touched Evan’s shoulder, grateful when the boy didn’t jerk away. He said goodbye to Grandfather and last, to Annie, his gaze clinging to hers. There were things that he needed to say but now was not the time.
Nor did he know what it was he thought he should say.
Annie walked with him to the door and watched until he swung into the saddle.
He saluted then rode away. He turned for one last look and told himself he wasn’t disappointed that the door had closed.
*
Annie leaned her head against the door. She should have told him she wasn’t angry with him. No, she was angry with herself for caring so much that she was hurt to hear him say that he still considered replacing her. She had promised herself she would not care about him. And she must not. For several seconds she remained in that position, pulling every errant thought back into submission.
Only then did she return to the kitchen.
Grandfather watched her. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
“Yes, I’m sure he will.” And to prove it didn’t matter to her, she checked the clothes drying behind the stove, taking down the few items that were done. Determined not to feel sorry for herself, she challenged Grandfather to a game of pick-up sticks. He chortled when he won game after game.
“Could be you’re not concentrating,” he said. “At least not on the game.” He waggled his eyebrows.
She did not reply to his teasing comment.
The afternoon trudged by on leaden feet. She was more aware of the outside sounds than usual, hearing the wind pick up in velocity, hearing a piece of wood rattle against the side of the house, perking up at the sound of a horse passing. Not that she listened for Hugh’s return.
They played the game for a bit then she announced she must make supper. She’d make something special to welcome Hugh home. Not for any other reason, she informed herself, than to make him see that she would make a perfect wife.
The chops were cooked, the potatoes done and the pie crust golden and he did not return.
“Girl, that food smells good and my stomach is kissing my backbone.”
“I guess it is time to eat.” She served everyone a portion.
Evan gave her a concerned look.
“He’ll be back soon,” she assured him, wishing she felt as cheerful as she sounded. Why was she so concerned about him? Other than he was out in a blustery wind and cold that would snap metal and she was home with his son and a grandfather who could barely walk. Pshaw. She was a big brave girl used to being alone.
Except this was different. It felt like a big hole had been left vacant.
She served Grandfather and Evan slices of pie, all the while telling herself that she had worried about this from the beginning. That she’d care too much and be the sorrier for it.
Maybe it was for the best if he found someone else.
A moan pushed at her teeth and she refused to let it pass.
Grandfather made his way back to his soft chair. “The cold surely does get into my bones.”
And him indoors by a roaring fire. How must it be for Hugh if he rode homeward in that bitter cold? Lord, protect him. Everyone deserved to be home safe and warm in this weather.
She did up the dishes. The darkness had closed in around them and still Hugh did not return. “Evan, honey, it’s time for bed.”
He made a protesting noise and looked at Hugh’s empty chair.
“I know he’s still gone but I’m sure he’s okay.” She had to keep telling herself that. “Sometimes he has to stay with people who are sick and need him.” In Ida’s case she feared this would be her final illness. The woman had been struggling for several months now. The poor thing must be exhausted.
“I’ll read to you and say your prayers then you can crawl into your bed.”
He shook his head and looked directly at her, his eyes wide.
She stared at him. If only Hugh could be here to see his son communicate so clearly. “Do you want me to take you to bed?”
He nodded. And nodded again as if he wanted her to say something more.
She wasn’t sure what. “I’ll read to you.” She picked a short story about faithfulness and then prayed with him. Another problem raised its head. How was she to get him to bed? He would fight her and maybe even bite. She didn’t think she could control him as well as Hugh did.
Instead of trying, she got to her feet, held out her hand. “Let’s go to bed.”
He hesitated, staring at her arm. Then he got to his feet and gripped her hand so tight she could feel him vibrating.
She smiled at Grandfather as they left the room. At least she could share this victory with him.
Evan dropped her hand as soon as they entered the bedroom. He stood by his mattress and pointed to Hugh’s bed.
She understood all too clearly and fought a losing war with herself. If she didn’t lie down on Hugh’s bed, Evan would be upset and maybe revert to a wild little animal. But to rest on the very bed that Hugh used…
It made her cheeks burn.
“Let me tell Grandfather.” She went to the door and called out to him, afraid to leave Evan alone for even a moment. He hobbled to the hallway and she told him what she planned to do.
“Just until the boy falls asleep,” he warned.
Her cheeks about caught on fire. “Not a moment longer.”
“I’ll stay up until then.”
She wanted to tell him to go to bed but he was right. “Thank you. I’m sorry to make you do this.”
“It’s for the boy.” He limped back to the kitchen and his soft chair. At least he would be able to sleep. She wasn’t the least offended that he said it was because of Evan. She knew it was for her as well.
She waited as Evan settled himself on the mattress, the quilt over him. How she would have liked to kiss him good-night and tuck the quilt around his shoulders. Maybe someday soon. For a long, breathless moment she looked at Hugh’s bed.
Evan wide-eyed and watchful waited for her to lie down.
She turned the lamp low, grabbed the quilt that lay folded across the foot of the bed, placed her head on the pillow and stretched out on top of the covers. A hollow in the pillow indicated where he rested his head. His scent clung to the room. She pulled the
quilt up to her nose hoping to find the smell of fresh laundry but his scent clung to the quilt as well.
Stiff, silent and staring at the ceiling, she waited for Evan to fall asleep. His breathing deepened. She waited bit longer, making sure he was slumbering deeply. Quietly she slid the quilt down to her feet and tiptoed to the door. Evan didn’t stir and she continued down the hall.
“Grandfather.” She shook him gently. “You can go to bed now.”
He came awake slowly. “He’s back?”
“Not yet but for all we know he might stay overnight.”
“Little Evan is asleep?”
“I left the lamp on so he wouldn’t be afraid if he woke.” She helped Grandfather to his feet and handed him his canes.
“Will the young one be okay?”
“I’ll curl up on the couch. I’ll be able to hear Evan if he wakens.” She wouldn’t likely sleep until she heard Hugh return.
“I suppose that’s for the best. My old bones need to feel a soft bed.”
She kissed him on the cheek, wished him good-night and watched him make his slow way down the hall to his room. She waited until the lamp in his room went out then hurried to stare out the dark window. Of course she could see nothing even when she scraped a hole in the frost except the lantern hanging outside the hotel to guide in any late travelers.
She had no way of knowing if Hugh was still at the Lewis’s or on his way home. Or even if he’d left some time ago and fallen into some kind of trouble. She could do nothing but watch and wait.
And pray. Lord, bring him home safely.
After a bit, she realized how cold she’d grown and returned to put more wood on the fire. An afghan hung over the arm of one of the chairs and she plucked it up, wrapped it about herself and returned to the window.
The town lay before her, silent and still except for the moan of the wind.
Finally, accepting that he would not return until morning, she curled up on the couch and fell into a restless sleep.
*
Hugh had waited until morning to leave the Lewis place though even then the sky was still black. He would arrive home before dawn changed the sky to gray. Ida Lewis still clung to life. The woman was a fighter. Dr. Baker said if she pulled through this bout of pneumonia she had a good chance of a full recovery.
