by Linda Ford
Hugh had been glad enough to be there and offer encouragement and prayers to the family. However, he couldn’t keep from worrying about his own family. Despite every warning he’d ever uttered, he included Annie and Grandfather in that word. And why not? he reasoned. For the time being they resided in his house and were, therefore, his responsibility.
How had they managed in his absence? Would Annie have been able to get Evan to bed? Would Evan have fought her? Were they warm enough?
Had she missed him?
He slammed the door on such thoughts. Their relationship was strictly businesslike. Both of them wanted it that way.
He stopped at the livery barn and stabled his horse, taking the time to brush him well and give instructions for feeding the animal to the sleepy young fellow tending the place then he made his way to the house. The cold had a decided bite to it, which explained his hurried stride. He passed the hotel, welcoming the lantern light to guide him on his way. From there he could see the manse. Light flickered in the front window. Like flames.
His heart kicked into a frenzy. Was the place on fire? He broke into a run, reached the door, wrenched it open and burst indoors. Flames blazed in the fireplace. He sank back on his heels, his breathing ragged. Why had he panicked? Then he noticed someone on the couch facing the fireplace. He eased forward to look over the back until he could see.
His ragged breathing returned at the sight of Annie sleeping, a hand under her cheek, her long blond hair in a braid but strands of it coiling about her face.
Had she stayed up to wait for him? The thought sent his heart into a gallop. Bernice had never waited up for him. Why, his own mother wouldn’t have worried about him getting home safely. He had no right to stand gazing down at a sleeping young woman and backed up to the door and shut it with a resounding bang.
Annie grunted and sat up. She glanced around, her eyes wide and bottomless as she met his gaze. Then she blinked and focused. A slow smile wreathed her face. “You’re home.”
The look between them held him immobile. He knew he dreamed all the things he thought he saw—welcome, warmth, acceptance—
He jerked his gaze away.
“How is Ida?” she asked, fear creeping into her voice.
“She’s got pneumonia and it was touch and go through the night but doc says she’ll make it.”
“I prayed for her throughout the night.”
“God hears and answers.” What would her prayers sound like if she prayed for him too? “Did you pray for me as well?” He had not meant to ask the question aloud. He let his gaze to return to her, watching for her reaction, pleased to see her cheeks turn rosy.
She ducked her head and whispered. “I did.”
“What did you request of God?” Perhaps if he knew he could put his silly wishes to rest.
She raised her eyes to his, blue and clear and full of promise.
That’s what happened to a man’s common sense when he spent most of the night sitting at the bedside of a very ill woman.
Her smile trembled. “I prayed if you had left you weren’t out in the cold maybe hurt or lost and if you were still at the Lewis’s you would have wisdom to know how best to comfort and encourage them.”
People prayed for him. People like Stewart Caldwell and his wife. People like Grandfather Marshall who had an interest in seeing that the town of Bella Creek flourished as he had planned. And other people had prayed for him to find Evan.
None mattered as much as Annie’s prayers. Could it really matter to her if he got home safely? Well of course it did. She would have no reason to be here if he didn’t. No other reason had been mentioned and despite his best resolve, he let himself believe she’d been concerned about him.
He fought a futile inner battle between the hope she would care that much about him and the fear that she would be disappointed in him. Would his mother’s words never leave him? It wasn’t just his mother, he reminded himself. No longer would he risk being judged a failure. All that mattered to him now was being enough for Evan.
Why did the argument sound weak to his own ears?
Chapter Nine
Annie tried to shake off the feeling of bliss that surrounded her at Hugh’s return and at the way he looked at her. It wasn’t even light out yet. Had he ridden home in the dark just to be here? She knew she should rearrange her thoughts but she was so very glad to see him back safe and sound it was all she could do not to rush over and give him a hug.
She settled for wrapping her arms around herself.
“How was Evan?” he asked, bringing her back to the reality of why she was here and why he hurried home. “Did you manage to get him to bed?”
“Let’s go in the kitchen and I’ll tell you all about it.” She hurried ahead of him, knowing if she waited she would be wrapping her arm about him and hanging on for dear life. Hearing his footsteps behind her, she rushed to the stove, added more wood and filled the coffeepot.
He sank to the chair. “I half expected to see him still there.” He indicated the corner Evan huddled in throughout the day.
The coffee wasn’t ready but she couldn’t hold back any longer and she faced Hugh. “You should have seen him. He let me know he missed you.” She told how the boy had looked to Hugh’s empty chair. “When I said it was time for bed, I simply held out my hand. He took it.” She couldn’t stop smiling. It was all she could do not to laugh aloud with sheer joy of recalling the moment and sharing it with Hugh. His eyes were warm, his cheeks deeply grooved by his smile.
“We walked to the bedroom and he put himself to bed.” She wouldn’t tell him that she’d lain on his bed until Evan fell asleep. “I couldn’t believe it. I wish you’d been here to see it.”
“I wish I’d been here too.” He didn’t say to see Evan’s progress. In fact, the way his eyes sought hers and filled with the warmth of a summer evening, she allowed herself to think he might have wished he could be there because of her.
The coffee sizzled and she turned to pull it from the heat. She waited for the grounds to settle then poured him a cup and handed it to him.
His fingers touched hers. His gaze brushed her. The world seemed full of promise and possibility. She tried to tell herself she was overtired, overexcited, over everything to think such foolishness but her mind remained unchanged.
Hugh took the cup and set it on the table. He yawned. “Sorry, I was awake all night.”
She stepped back, rebuked by her lack of thought. “Why don’t you go lie down for a bit? Evan might feel better to wake up and find you there.”
He took a huge sip of coffee and yawned again. “Maybe I will. You’ll be okay?”
She’d been fine all night but it melted a corner of her heart for him to ask. She patted his arm. “I think I can manage. You go ahead.”
He grinned. “I know you can manage. That isn’t what I meant at all. I only meant—” He got to his feet and shrugged. “I don’t know what I meant. I’m so tired I’m not making any sense.”
“Away you go.” She gave him a little shove in the right direction.
He chuckled. “You’re trying awfully hard to get rid of me.” He faced her, sobering as he saw the look on her face.
Too late she realized she let show her longing for him to stay and keep her company. She tossed her head in an attempt to hide the truth. “I just don’t want to put up with a cranky, exhausted man.”
She didn’t believe her explanation and from the bemused look on his face, didn’t think he did either.
“Away you go before Evan wakes up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He sauntered down the hall, as if pleased with himself.
Not until he ducked out of sight did she remember she’d left the quilt tossed across the bed. He’d know at once that she had been there. She could only hope he was too tired to notice or too tired to read anything into it.
Not that there was anything to read into it.
She looked at the couch and the afghan and decided she would enjoy a few more m
oments of sleep herself.
She didn’t know how long she slept before she jerked awake trying to orientate herself. She lay on the couch with the first rays of dawn creeping across the floor. The room was cold, the fireplace having gone out. Feeling as if someone peered at her, she turned her head and stared into the watchful eyes of Evan. Had he gotten up by himself?
“Is your papa still sleeping?”
He nodded.
“Are you hungry?”
Again, he nodded.
“Good.” She meant so much more than his admission of hunger. The boy was communicating so clearly and moving about of his own accord. She would have hugged him except she feared it would send him into full-out reversal. “Let me get my hair done and I’ll make you breakfast.”
Evan’s eyes went to her hair and she thought she detected the faintest glimpse of humor. The boy was very much like his father with dark eyes and dark hair. Did he also have those deep dimples when he smiled? She couldn’t wait to find out.
He followed her to her bedroom and leaned against her bed, watching as she brushed her hair and pinned it into place. His presence did not feel like an intrusion. Indeed, it felt more like a shared moment. She used to do the same with her mama.
She finished and turned to Evan. “Let’s go.” She held out her hand before she realized he might not welcome the gesture. When he took it, she wanted to cheer. If only Hugh could see this.
They made their way to the kitchen. He still held to her hand. She considered what to do, how to handle this. Spot, the stuffed dog, sat on the chair. “Shall I put Spot on the mat?”
Evan quivered and squeezed her hand hard. Then he shook his head and went to the mat and settled down in his customary position.
Soon, she promised herself. Soon he would choose to sit at the table and soon he’d begin to play like a normal child. Cheered by the encouragement of those thoughts, she built up the fire in the stove and moved the coffeepot over to warm up the contents.
A few minutes later, the thumping of Grandfather’s canes coming down the hall informed her that he was awake. The first thing he’d want would be coffee and it was prepared and she poured him a cup. He sat at the table and consumed most of it before he said anything but good morning.
“Did Hugh get back yet?” he asked.
“Yes, earlier this morning.”
“Good because my bones say we are in for a blizzard.”
She glanced out the window. “Cold and blowing out there. It’s not nice.”
“Trust my bones. It’s going to get worse.”
In that case, she was doubly glad that Hugh was back, safe and sound.
She wasn’t sure when to expect him to appear but prepared breakfast as usual. It was about ready to serve when he entered, yawning and stretching.
“I smell coffee and bacon.”
She poured him a cup and he drank a few swallows then looked around.
“Evan, I never heard you get up,” Hugh said.
Annie chuckled. “When I woke up he was standing by the couch,” She jerked her gaze from Hugh’s dark eyes that drew her into secret places, secret thoughts—to Evan. “Did you wonder if we were going to sleep all day?”
He nodded, met her eyes for a second then shifted his gaze to Hugh. A fleeting, barely-there smile pulled at his mouth and then he ducked away. She hadn’t imagined it. When she looked at Hugh, she knew by the way his eyes darkened and his throat worked that he had seen it as well.
She smiled. “He’s going to be okay.” Something thumped against the window. “Snow.”
“My bones are always right,” Grandfather said. “Though I wish they’d be wrong once in a while.”
Annie explained to Hugh and Evan how Grandfather could tell a storm headed their way by how much his bones hurt. She went to look out the window. Hugh followed her and they stood shoulder to shoulder.
“It’s really coming down out there,” he said. “I can barely make out the shed.”
She strained toward the window. The snow would be drifting into the shed. She needed to shut the door to keep the wood dry. Doing so would shut the pup inside. The poor thing must be freezing. Her nerves twitched and she turned to serve breakfast but before she sat down, she went to the window again. The storm was getting worse.
“Girl, sit down,” Grandfather said. “You’ve seen lots of Montana storms. You know the only thing you can do is hunker down and wait them out.”
She sat but her insides jumped. That poor little animal would be shivering.
Aware that her nervous behavior had Hugh watching her, she forced herself to sit quietly throughout the meal. Afterward, she cleaned up from breakfast and prepared a pot of soup to simmer throughout the morning.
“There’s nothing like the smell of soup to make us feel warm and cozy inside.”
Hugh came to her side at the stove and whispered, “What’s bothering you?”
“I hope my family are all safe.” Let him think that’s what concerned her.
“Like your grandfather said, they are familiar with Montana weather. I venture to say they knew enough to find shelter.”
She nodded. It was true.
“How do you want to spend the day?” he asked.
She should be rejoicing that he had asked, wanted her to be part of his activity. However, she couldn’t relax.
“There’s something I have to do.” She shoved her feet into warm boots, shrugged into Logan’s warm coat and grabbed the door handle.
*
Hugh couldn’t believe she meant to go into the storm. Was it something he said? Perhaps she didn’t care to do something with him. But still. It wasn’t necessary to run into the jaws of a storm. She could simply say no thanks. “You can’t go out in that,” he protested but she ignored him and rushed out into the storm. “What pray tell?” he asked of no one in particular.
“She’s got some kind of bee in her bonnet,” Grandfather said. “I learned long ago to stand back and let her go when she’s like that.”
Shouldn’t that make him remember how unsuitable she was? The words skimmed over his brain without finding a resting place. All that mattered was making sure she was safe and he grabbed his coat.
“Now wait a minute,” Grandfather protested. “Don’t see any sense in both of you being out in the storm. You’ve got to trust that she knows what she’s doing.”
He stood at the door undecided what he should do. Seeing the tension in Evan’s shoulders, he returned his coat to the hook and went to peer through the window. Saw the dark shape that was Annie leave the woodshed and hurry toward the house.
He threw open the door to let her in.
She stood before him, a wriggly brown-and-white dog in her arms. “I couldn’t leave him out in the cold.” Her eyes begged for understanding.
The pup licked her then squirmed about trying to reach Hugh and give him a sloppy kiss. He patted the dog on the head. “He’s just a pup.” A mixed breed about half-grown. He’d be medium-sized when he grew up. Right now he was very dirty and smelly.
Annie waited.
He wondered what she would do if he said the pup couldn’t be indoors. He had no intention of doing so especially with her blue eyes beseeching him. “Put him down. Let him explore his new home.”
“Thank you.” She fairly beamed at him, making him feel eight feet tall and able to fell massive trees with one blow of an axe.
She released the pup and he sniffed about her feet and then about Hugh’s then raced across the floor, paused by Grandfather’s chair to get a pat on the head. He noticed Evan in the corner and bounded toward him.
Hugh heard Annie suck in air. His own lungs froze. What would Evan do?
The pup stopped and gave Evan a sloppy kiss then frolicked about the boy.
Evan grabbed the pup, buried his face in the fur and laughed.
“Well, I’ll be,” Hugh said, unashamed at how husky his voice had grown.
Annie squeezed his arm. “Praise God. I wasn’t sure he knew h
ow to use his voice.”
Evan and the pup tumbled over in a tangle of limbs.
Hugh patted Annie’s hand where it lay on his arm. “It appears that God has sent an answer to prayer in the form of a rambunctious puppy.” Without Annie’s “unsuitability” this pup would not be here. The acknowledgement kicked out every support he felt he had. He was grateful beyond words but he could not silence the warning voice in the back of his head reminding him of how unsuitable she would find him once she got to know him better. For now, with her hand warm beneath his palm he refused to let such concerns rob him of the moment.
The storm continued outside, the storm threatened in his head but they did not keep him from the joy of watching Evan and the pup playing together.
“What are we going to name him?” he asked Evan then shifted his gaze to the woman at his side.
“How about Stormy? Seeing as he came in during a storm.” She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling, making him forget everything else. “Or we could call him Happy because of what he’s doing for Evan.”
Hugh couldn’t think beyond the feeling between him and Annie.
“Let’s see what Evan wants.” She pulled her hand away, leaving a cold spot on his arm and a barren spot in his heart. She knelt in front of the dog and the boy and ruffled the puppy’s fur. “He sure is soft, though I think he needs a bath. Just like you.”
Evan studied the dirty dog then looked at himself and nodded.
“Would you like me to heat water for a bath? You could bathe and then help me bathe the pup.”
Evan eyed her warily.
Hugh watched the trio. Would she succeed in getting his little son to have a bath? Somehow he felt she would. She’d already accomplished so much with him.
“Let’s do that before lunch,” she said as if Evan had agreed. “Now about a name. Which do you like better? Stormy or Happy?”
Hugh definitely liked the latter better but it was up to Evan. Longing to be part of this exchange, he knelt beside Annie. “Son, this dog is yours. You can choose the name. You’ll also have to help take care of him. He’ll need to be fed and bathed. And we must keep water down for him. I’ll help you with that but first let’s name him.”
