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“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 longer, and 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’s 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 inside.

She served Grandfather and Evan slices of pie, all the while telling herself that she’d 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 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. She 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 and held out her hand. “Let’s go.”

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, adjusted 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 a 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 around 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 tonight, 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.

Hugh had been glad enough to be there and offer encouragement and prayers to the Lewis’s.

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 business. 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 giving 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.

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 blonde 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, 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? “Did you pray for me as well?” He had not meant to ask the question aloud. He let his gaze 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’d 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’d planned. And other people had prayed for him to find Evan.

None meant 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. But despite his best resolve, he let himself believe she’d been concerned about him.

He fought a futile inner battle between the hope she’d care that much about him and the fear that she’d 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?