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CHAPTER EIGHT

W hen 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, Hugh 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 of the pup in the shed.

Why must she continually do things that earn 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’d 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.

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. 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 stay 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’d 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 for the unmarried boys and girls around you. Pastor Arness, you need to reconsider your actions.” She rose and turned to the door.

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 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. Her fists were 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. 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?

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 provide.

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 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. 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 into 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’ll 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 lastly, 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 and then rode away. He turned for one last look and told himself he wasn’t disappointed that the entrance 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 letting it matter so much that it hurt to hear him say that he still considered replacing her.

She’d promised herself she wouldn’t 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.”