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CHAPTER NINE

A nnie 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. 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 reaching for him and hanging on for dear life. Hearing his footsteps behind her, she rushed to the stove, added more wood, and filled the coffee pot.

He sank onto 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 at 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 the 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 under his quilt 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’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 her longing for him to stay and keep her company might have been evident. 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, she 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 moments 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 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 her hand. She considered what to do and 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, 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 coffee pot 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’re 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 was 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,” he said. “I can barely make out the shed.”

She strained toward the window. The snow would be drifting into the little building.

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.”

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 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 anything with him.

But still. It wasn’t necessary to run into the jaws of winter.

She could simply say no thanks. “You can’t go out in that,” he protested, but she ignored him and rushed out.

“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.