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Then she blinked and turned back to her parcel, taking out common, everyday supplies and putting them in the cupboard.

He didn’t want the feeling between them to end.

He wanted to celebrate. That reminded him.

“My sermon is on the prodigal son—or, as I am thinking of it—the lost son. When the father found the son, he celebrated. I have found my son.” He smiled at Evan, who had started his second candy stick. “Is there some way we can celebrate?”

She stood beside him. Close enough that the place where her shoulder had rested for a short time grew warm. She leaned in close to whisper, “You mean like giving him a bath and putting clean clothes on him?”

He whispered back. “It would take two of us. And maybe the rest of the Marshall family to get him into a tub of water.”

She chuckled at his irony, her eyes flashing sunny skies as she looked at him. “One of these days, it is going to have to happen, but today might be a bit soon.” She turned back to Evan. “I can think of ways for us to celebrate, but what can we do that would include Evan?”

“I know. I guess my idea won’t work right now.”

She tapped her index finger on her chin. “Let’s not give up quite yet.” The tapping continued, and then she nodded. “I know of something he might cooperate with.”

If she had come up with an idea that would work for Evan, he might be tempted to kiss her.

No, he wouldn’t. What was he thinking?

“He likes to eat on the floor. Perhaps we can go to his level.”

He pictured them all hunkered down in the corner, shoulders drawn up and backs to one another. “You think we should all sit on the floor to eat?” He knew he sounded as shocked as he felt. “Isn’t that encouraging him to remain as he is?”

“Not if we turn it into an indoor picnic and sit in front of the fireplace.” Slowly, she faced him, eagerness and caution chasing each other through her expression.

He decided at that very moment that he wanted to encourage the eagerness and ignore caution. “A picnic? That just might work.”

They had moved as far away as possible from the other two in the room and kept their voices to a whisper so they wouldn’t be overheard.

Grandfather pulled his candy stick from his mouth. “What are you two plotting?”

“A celebration,” Annie said. “A party to show how happy we are that Evan has been found.”

“As long as there’s food.” Grandfather resumed sucking his candy.

Hugh echoed the comment except that his was As long as Evan and Annie are here.

He didn’t even bother trying to correct himself.

Annie couldn’t stop smiling. He liked the book she’d chosen for him at Uncle George’s store.

He hadn’t suggested a gift was inappropriate.

He seemed thrilled. She was so pleased about it that she would be secretly celebrating her success in doing something that made him happy every bit as much as she’d celebrate Evan’s safe return.

Not only that— Hugh had rushed out to escort her home.

As if he’d been watching and waiting for her return.

He’d missed her. Been concerned for her safety.

Only three days, and he already appreciated her.

By the end of four weeks, he would never want to let her go.

Once they were married, she knew she could count on permanency.

Like Grandfather said, marriage was forever.

Yes, Hugh’s wife, even Dawson’s first wife, had proved otherwise, but Hugh was the preacher.

He would keep his marriage vows just as she meant to.

Now to prepare a picnic. Her feet almost floated off the floor as she sliced bread and spread butter, adding slabs of leftover roast beef.

She sliced it paper-thin for Evan, having noticed last night that he had trouble chewing the meat.

She packed it all into a basket she found in the pantry, wondering for a moment what reason Hugh had for having one.

She shrugged. Likely, Mrs. Ross had used it to bring home things from the store.

She found a checkered tablecloth. And last, she wrapped up the remaining items in the parcel she’d carried home with such anticipation. This would be part of the celebration.

While she prepared the food, she talked, doing her best to make Evan understand what would happen. When the basket was packed, she turned to Hugh, Grandfather, and Evan. “Let’s go on a picnic.”

She and Hugh would sit on the floor to be close to Evan, but Hugh carried a chair in for Grandfather. The fire was bright and cheerful, the only source of light.

She stood at the doorway as Hugh and Grandfather passed. Hugh gave her a questioning look. “Let’s see if he comes on his own,” she whispered in response to his unasked question.

“Evan, let’s go to the other room.” She waited, hoping, praying he’d do it on his own. “I have something more for you in here.” She rattled the parcel. “I’ll give it to you after we eat, but you’ll have to join us in the other room.”

Please, Evan. Please. She met Hugh’s eyes, saw the same concern and hope that filled her and clung to his gaze, searching for and finding encouragement. Strengthened, she turned back to Evan. He watched her from his lowered eyes.

If he didn’t go on his own accord, Hugh would carry him, but what could she say to urge him to move on his own?

“I think Spot, the dog who thinks he’s a boy, would race you to the fireplace so he could be the little boy. If you hurry and beat him, you can make him understand he has to be a puppy.”

His movements jerky, Evan shifted so he could pick up his mat and half walking, half running, never standing up fully, he scurried past her and tossed his mat to one side of the fireplace as far from Hugh as he could.

Annie met Hugh’s eyes. She wiped away a tear. To most, this wouldn’t seem like a big step but both she and Hugh knew it was huge for Evan to do this on his own.

She followed and sat between them, at Grandfather’s knees, pleased when Evan didn’t shift farther to the side. Grandfather squeezed her shoulder, and she understood that he was gratified by Evan’s progress.

She spread the cloth and put the basket in the middle. “This is nice,” she said. “It might be cold outside, but we are warm and safe here.” She hoped Evan understood that she meant he was safe.

“I’ll ask the blessing.” Hugh bowed his head, but he didn’t immediately pray, and when he did, his voice was deeper than usual.

“Father God, I thank You for the safe return of my son, Evan. Thank You so much for helping me find him. Help him know he is safe and loved. Thank You for Your many blessings—family, friends and a warm house and for the food we are about to eat. Amen.”

If she hadn’t thought Hugh would jerk away, she would have reached out that very minute and hugged him. Instead, she passed around the sandwiches.

“This reminds me of when I first came out here,” Grandfather said. She knew he was about to launch into one of his stories about the early days, and she leaned back against his knees, content to be in this place at this time with these people.

“I didn’t have a house yet, but I had a good solid shelter. It had frame walls up to my shoulders and a canvas cover. I cooked outside over a fire. Sort of like this.” He sighed. “I kind of miss those days.” Then he chuckled. “Don’t miss the cold though.”

Annie turned to Hugh. “Grandfather says he was the first white man here. Though, I’m not sure how that can be. There’ve been prospectors and explorers since Lewis and Clark.”

“Harumph. I was the first one to put down stakes.”

“Oh, well, that’s different.” She grinned at Hugh to inform him she teased her grandfather.

“Now, don’t be giving him a hard time. He’s earned every accolade he wants to own.” Hugh’s eyes were full of something so warm, so claiming that heat rushed up her neck and pooled in her cheeks. Thankfully, Grandfather couldn’t see.

He chuckled. “You listen to Hugh. He knows what he’s talking about. After all, he’s the preacher.”

“I’ll get the hot chocolate.” She rushed from the room.

She fought to gain control of her tangled thoughts.

Their agreement was one of mutual convenience.

There was to be no claiming involved. Realizing she had no call for concern, she slowed her breathing.

As Grandfather said, Hugh was the preacher.

He had to keep his word to keep feelings out of their arrangement.

And who, an errant voice in the distance of her thoughts asked, would make sure she stuck to her plans?

I will. I must.

“Can I help?”

She hadn’t realized that Hugh had followed her and was startled by his question.

“Sure, you can take mugs for yourself and Grandfather.” She filled two of the waiting cups, relieved that her hands didn’t shake because her insides were as jumpy as a fly against a windowpane.

She delayed so he could return to the living room.

He stood to the side and waited for her.

That made her hand jerk so hard she almost spilled the hot liquid on herself. She cooled Evan’s drink with milk and picked up the other two cups, stiffening her arms to stop any shaking.

They returned to the other room. Annie put Evan’s cup of hot chocolate in front of him.

He waited until she sat down again before he took the cup.

One day soon, she decided, they’d get him to start being a little boy.

They drank their hot chocolate slowly. She couldn’t say what the others were thinking, but Annie didn’t want the evening to end. She turned to Grandfather. “Tell about the time a bunch of desperadoes came to your camp.”

Grandfather was an excellent storyteller. He knew how to make a dramatic moment more dramatic and how to drag out anticipation. He wove a tale of bad guys coming to visit him and told how they’d looked at his belongings. He’d been sure they would steal everything. What was he to do?

Annie smiled as Evan shifted so he could watch Grandfather. She looked at Hugh and saw the same pleasure on his face. And something more. Or was she imagining that she saw approval?