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CHAPTER FIVE

A nnie jerked back, his question like a slap. “Who told you about Rudy?” She never spoke of the man, never admitted to anyone how much his leaving had hurt.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard Logan and your grandfather mention him.”

If he’d heard the conversation, he knew that Logan didn’t like Rudy, and Grandfather thought she cared too much for the man. None of them knew how foolishly, desperately, she’d seen him as an answer to her insecurities and fears. She’d given him her heart completely and wholly.

Even at the time she’d recognized the wrongness of letting him take a place in her heart that belonged to God. That had been a trap she should have fled. A mistake she didn’t mean to repeat. This unimpassioned arrangement with Hugh was totally different. Her heart was guarded, protected.

“He’s of no concern to you.”

“A ricocheting bullet is a dangerous thing.”

He was worried Rudy might return and resume where they’d left off? Even if Rudy came back—and that was highly unlikely—she knew better than to ever trust him again.

Filled with raw hurt, she sprang to her feet. “That shell is spent. It will never be a danger to you or me or Evan.” She hurried to the kitchen and shook Grandfather’s shoulder. “Wake up. It’s time for bed.”

The old man pulled himself from his chair, grabbing Annie’s arm for assistance. He was weaker than normal, and it concerned her.

She turned her gaze to Hugh as they passed. “Good night.”

He must have read more than her anger, must have seen her worry. He patted her on the shoulder. “Perhaps the cold is bothering him.”

She didn’t want to be touched by his concern. Didn’t want to find his gentle hand comforting. Did not want to feel anything toward this man but?—

What? Indifference? Coldness?

Nothing.

But how could she hope to offer anything to Evan—and Hugh—if she turned into an unfeeling person?

At the moment she could see no alternative.

By morning, her hurt had abated. Rudy was over and done with. A closed book. Making a home for herself with Hugh and Evan shaped her future. She looked forward to proving herself and hurried to the kitchen.

The coffee was ready when Hugh followed Evan into the room. Evan went immediately to his customary corner. She’d placed a thick mat there and a warm blanket to ensure the boy was as comfortable as his position allowed.

How could she remain distant in light of the little boy huddled on the floor?

She poured Hugh a cup of coffee and set it before him. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” He downed a mouthful of the hot liquid.

Annie smiled to herself as she turned back to the stove. Hugh was obviously not a morning person. “Today,” she said for Evan’s benefit. “I’m going to make pancakes just like my mama used to make. Do you like pancakes?” She watched Evan for some signal.

He sat motionless, but she could tell by the way he tipped his head that he listened.

So she talked some more. “My pa always gets a sad look on his face when I make them for breakfast. I know he’s missing Mama just like I do.

” She let out a little sigh. “Guess maybe I’ll never stop missing her.

” She brightened. “But I have so many good memories of her that she’ll always be with me. ”

She felt both Evan’s and Hugh’s interest, which encouraged her to continue.

“I suppose being the only girl and the youngest meant I spent lots of time with Mama. And like I told your papa yesterday, Mama never missed an opportunity to teach. She would take the smallest thing—like a wildflower—and point out the tiny little details—saying it proved how completely God is in control. The Master Planner, she called him.” She paused and stared out the window, seeing nothing as, in her thoughts, she sat at her mother’s side listening to her words.

There isn’t one detail of our lives that God has not designed to create beauty.

She’d been taught that from a young age.

Sometimes, it was hard to see the truth in her own experience.

But to come right out and say that God must have made a mistake in letting her mama die so young seemed to besmirch her mother’s memory.

As to Rudy, well, that was Annie’s own foolish decision.

She wasn’t ever going to repeat the lesson she’d learned with him.

Her gaze turned to Hugh, and she met his dark brown eyes.

Grandfather hobbled into the room and sat at the table. Annie poured him coffee and then fried pancakes. She made a rabbit-shaped one for Evan and was rewarded with a flicker of amusement in his eyes before he ducked his head.

She joined the others at the table for breakfast.

Grandfather ate heartily, then leaned back. “Annie, you are a fine cook. Every bit as good as your mother or even your grandmother.”

Annie beamed at him. “Thank you.” Being favorably compared to the grandmother she’d never met was highest praise.

Grandfather seemed bright and cheerful this morning, and it eased a tension Annie hadn’t realized she carried.

They finished the meal, and she began to gather up the used dishes. She lifted the lid on the stove to add more wood and saw she was down to her last two pieces. “I have to go out for more wood.”

Not giving Hugh a chance to say he’d do it, as he’d been doing prior to this, she put on the old coat of Logan’s and slipped outside.

A brisk wind pulled her skirt tight about her legs.

She shivered in the cold. One good thing about it: she couldn’t see a woman traveling to Bella Creek in response to Hugh’s ad in this weather.

She squared her shoulders. The last of her stiffness from his comments the night before disappeared. He would not find anyone more suitable than she.

A movement at the corner of the woodshed caught her attention. A dog pressed to the wall, seeking protection from the wind. A smallish dog, perhaps the runt of a litter. Barely more than a pup.

She squatted down. “Poor little guy. You’re cold and hungry, aren’t you?”

The pup wriggled happily at the attention. Big floppy ears flapped across his face.

“Aren’t you sweet?”

The little animal had matching brown spots around each eye, a matted brown-and-black hide that might be curly if it was clean, and a white-tipped tail.

“You stay right there, and I’ll bring you something to eat.” She gathered an armload of wood, hurried into the kitchen to deposit it in the wood box, and then dumped all the kitchen scraps into a tin bowl.

Aware of both her grandfather’s and Hugh’s watchful interest, she took the slop bucket, hoping they would think she only meant to dump it out.

She hurried outside and emptied the bucket before she set the bowl of food down a few feet from where the pup sat watching.

She hoped he would trust her enough to come close to eat.

He wriggled so much he almost lost his balance, and she laughed.

“Come on. This is for you.”

The pup edged closer, wary, ready to retreat if she did anything to indicate she posed a risk.

She kept very still, waiting. The pup reached the bowl and ate eagerly. She patted his head, pleased when he didn’t shy away. “I wonder if someone is missing their pet.” Perhaps she’d slip away and leave a message with Uncle George, who ran the store. He’d find out if the pup belonged to anyone.

In the meantime, she’d see that the animal was cared for.

She glanced toward the house. How did Hugh feel about dogs indoors? She had no idea. How would Evan react? She couldn’t begin to guess.

“I think it would be best if you stay outside for now, but I’ll leave the door to the shed open, and you can get out of the wind.”

She got him to follow her into the small building by taking the bowl inside. She found a horse blanket and put it on the floor. The puppy sniffed at it and then sank down with a sigh. A grateful sigh, she thought.

She filled her arms with more wood, grabbed the empty bucket, and returned to the kitchen.

Hugh waited until she’d unloaded her arms, then pushed to his feet. “I’ll be in my office.”

She watched him out of sight, then released a long, soft sigh.

“Annie, have you two fought?” Grandfather barely waited until Hugh was behind his door to speak.

“Of course not. Why would you think so?”

“He barely spoke a word this morning. And you’re very quiet, too.”

“Me? I talked the whole time.”

“Not to each other. Girl, if you plan to marry him, you need to learn to talk to him.” He sat back and gave her squinty-eyed consideration. “Could it be you are already seeing the foolishness of such an arrangement?”

She gave him look for look. “I believe I am needed here.” She indicated Evan whom she knew would be listening to every word and perhaps wondering if she planned to stay. “Besides, the arrangement suits me.”

Grandfather leaned back and rumbled his lips in despair. “Girl, it ain’t healthy to deny yourself love.”

Not prepared to argue with the man she respected so much, she tried to ignore him.

Not that she could hope he’d let it go.

“Annie, what are you up to?”

“I thought I’d wash up the dishes.”

Grandfather grunted. “I think we’ve been guilty of spoiling you so that you can’t see past this momentary whim.”

His assessment of her stung. How could he see this as a selfish desire? She could—and would—take very good care of Hugh and Evan. She responded to something else he said. “Spoiling me? Is that what you call it when I cooked and cleaned and did laundry for five men and a little girl?”

He looked uncomfortable at that. “You know what I mean. You were allowed to run free with Carly. You’ll not have the same kind of freedom here. Hugh’s the preacher and has a certain reputation to maintain.”

She let out a gusty breath. “You make it sound like I was wild and crazy.”

“Who’s outside?”

She glanced at the window to see who’d come up the walk and then realized he had noticed the bowl of food she’d taken out. She could honestly say, “No one.” To signal the conversation was over, she began to wash the dishes, her back to him.