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CHAPTER TEN

A nnie saw Hugh’s hesitation. They would be arm to arm and shoulder to shoulder in this task.

Did he object to that? No reason he should.

After all, they lived in the same house.

Took care of the same boy. And would be married in about three weeks.

Her cheeks burned, and it wasn’t from the heat of the nearby fire.

Hugh rubbed his hands on his thighs and then knelt beside Annie. “What do you want me to do?”

I want you to say you’ll marry me. I want a marriage based on security, not love. Love offers only the fear of loss. “Soap him up and scrub him clean.” She handed him the bar of soap.

“Okay, little man, it’s time to get rid of that dirt.” Hugh sounded strong and in control, but she guessed from the way he hesitated that he wasn’t.

Evan looked uncertain and shivered. He closed his eyes as Hugh began to wash him. His expression softened.

Annie nudged Hugh’s arm and nodded toward the boy. She leaned close to whisper in his ear. “I think he likes it.”

The flames crackled and flared. Happy flopped down before the warmth of the fire and fell asleep.

Hugh washed the soap off. “His hair needs washing.”

Evan tried to scramble to his feet, the noise bringing Happy to the side of the tub.

“Whoa, there.” Hugh steadied the boy. “You don’t want to frighten Happy, do you? I’ll hold you with your head back, and Annie will wash your hair.”

Annie nodded agreement at Hugh’s questioning glance.

“You’ll like it. I know you will,” Hugh said.

Evan stared into the eyes of his father, searching for assurance.

Annie knew the moment he found it. He shuddered, his shoulders settled back to their normal position, and he nodded.

While Hugh held his son, Annie soaped and scrubbed Evan’s hair, shocked at the amount of dirty water that ran off his head. She soaped and scrubbed it again and once more until she was satisfied no more dirt remained. She grabbed a towel and rubbed his hair dry.

Hugh lifted him from the water and wrapped another towel around him, shifting him around to face the fire as he dried the boy.

Happy watched with his head tipped to one side and then the other.

Annie chuckled. “Look at him, Evan. He wants to know if it’s still you.”

Evan touched Happy’s head, and the puppy squirmed with pleasure.

Hugh reached for the boy’s clothing.

Annie caught his hand. “Maybe a towel about his waist until he bathes the dog.”

He grinned. “You’re thinking there might be lots of splashing water?”

“Something like that.” Their gazes held.

His smile faded, and all that remained was serious study.

What did he see? What did he want to see?

Why did it feel like he flipped open locks on secret thoughts and hidden wishes?

She didn’t want him to perceive her inner fears.

And yet she did. Perhaps hoping and dreaming that his look, a word, or touch from him might heal the wounded areas of her heart.

Happy raced around the tub and tumbled into Annie, jerking her back to the task at hand. She caught the puppy and shifted him to Evan. “Do you want to put him in the bath?”

Evan nodded, and Hugh unobtrusively helped lift the puppy into the water.

Happy whined and tried to claw his way out of the tub. Evan leaned over and patted the puppy’s head, and earned himself a wet lick.

While Hugh held the pup and the boy, Annie quickly lathered up the dog. Happy squirmed and sloshed water over the edge of the tub, soaking Annie’s skirt.

Evan looked worried as if he expected her to be cross. She laughed. “It’s only water.”

Reassured, he turned back to the puppy, patting his head and making soothing noises.

Annie scrubbed Happy clean, rinsing the soap out well. “Done.” She handed Hugh a towel.

“Me?”

That was all the time Happy needed to escape the clutches of these people, and he jumped from the tub, sloshing water on the floor then shook himself. Water sprayed all over Hugh, Evan, and Annie.

Evan laughed and wiped his face with the towel, then set to work rubbing Happy dry.

Hugh looked so shocked that Annie smiled at him. “It’s just water.”

He frowned. “It’s cold, wet, and smells doggy.”

She wiped her hands and face and then tossed him the towel, still grinning unrepentantly.

He dried his face, all the while studying her.

Her amusement fled at the look in his eyes.

She wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but she had three older brothers who didn’t mind tossing her into the watering trough when she teased them.

Surely...she swallowed hard...after all, they were indoors with a snowstorm raging outside.

Just to be sure, she sidled over to the window. “I see the storm hasn’t let up.”

A deep-throated chuckle came from the kitchen. She’d forgotten all about Grandfather. What had he seen? Nothing. There was nothing to see, and no one could read her mind and see how she foolishly wished they were outdoors and he could chase her until she let him catch her.

She faced the room again and saw why Grandfather chuckled. Evan struggled to get his overalls on, but Happy held one leg in his teeth. She rescued the child and straightened the buttons on his shirt.

“I think the soup is done.” She hurried to the kitchen and set out the bowls. When Hugh didn’t follow, she glanced back.

He stared at the tub of water.

She closed her eyes. How could she have forgotten that? They’d have to carry it outside and dump it unless they wanted to leave it sit until the storm ended. That wouldn’t be a good idea with a little boy and a curious pup. Someone would sooner or later play in it and spill it.

“I’ll help you carry it outside.” She grabbed her coat and boots.

He came to get his. His arm banged into her shoulder as he slipped into his coat. He halted. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” He touched her shoulder.

She told herself it wasn’t possible for him to hurt her.

Told herself she didn’t want anything from him, but nevertheless, she leaned into his touch, as a hollowness she refused to admit sucked at her insides.

Drawing in strength with a deep breath, she pulled away.

“I’m fine.” She wrapped a scarf around her head and marched back to the living room to grab one side of the tub.

He followed, his gaze never leaving her face. His eyes were dark and bottomless, so she couldn’t guess what he was thinking. Finally, he broke off the stare and grabbed the other handle, and they carried the tub through to the door.

“Evan, hold your dog so he doesn’t run out into the cold.”

Evan wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck.

Hugh opened the door. A blast of Arctic air raced in on the wings of snow so harsh it stung Annie’s face. Knowing they must hurry, she and Hugh carried the tub outside. Grandfather closed the door behind them.

“Over here,” Hugh shouted and led to the corner of the house and took three steps away. “Here.” They tipped the water to the ground, stepping back to avoid their feet getting wet. The tub dangled from one hand; Hugh grabbed Annie’s elbow and hurried them back to the door.

Inside, he dropped the tub and looked at Annie. A slow smile spread across his face and dipped deep into her heart. “You look like a snow maiden.” He pulled off his gloves and wiped his thumb across her lashes. Her pulse picked up speed.

Snow clung to his lashes and his chin, and she pulled off her own mittens. “I suppose that makes you a snow man.” She wiped his lashes and chin.

His smile lingered, but his eyes filled with something besides amusement. Something that made her tongue cleave to the roof of her mouth, and her lungs refuse to work.

His thumb still rested on her cheek, warm and possessive. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Was he thinking of kissing her?

“Did I hear something about soup?” Grandfather asked, a warning note in his voice.

Annie spun away, slipped out of her coat and boots and hurried to the stove. She should thank Grandfather for his warning, but it was hard to when disappointment raged through her.

How foolish. She wasn’t disappointed. She did not want to fall in love. She would not allow it.

Had Rudy ever looked at her like Hugh just did?

Had she ever felt with him as if she hung between reality and dreams, only a gossamer thread holding her in place?

She spent an inordinate amount of time stirring the soup before she could face those at the table.

When she turned, she almost dropped the pot of soup.

Evan sat at the table.

“Happy needed his mat,” Hugh said, his words deep with emotion.

Annie jerked her gaze from Hugh to his son. “That was very kind of you.”

Evan nodded.

Annie set the pot on the table with a thud as her arms suddenly lost their strength.

If she lived to the age of one hundred, she would probably never know anything that gave her more pleasure than to see the boy at the table.

Clothed and in his right mind, she quoted a portion of a verse.

She needed no other reason for seeking this marriage than that one little boy.

Certainly not love. Neither she nor Hugh wanted the complication of it.

She knew her reasons. What were his?

Hugh stared at his bowl of soup. How had helping bathe a boy and a dog taken him so far down the road in the wrong direction? He was at a loss to explain it. However, he must find a way to correct it. As soon as the meal was over, he pushed away from the table. “I’ll be in my office.”

At his desk, he looked at his notebook without writing a thing. He opened his Bible, praying for guidance. Despite the hot stove in the corner, the room was cold. Vacant. Empty.

From the other side of the closed door came the sound of Annie laughing. Was it something Evan did? Perhaps she romped with the puppy. Or Evan did. And Hugh was missing it because of his wayward, needy heart.

He leaned back in his chair, a smile on his lips. A puppy worked wonders in Evan. Thank You, God. And thank you, Annie, for bringing the dog into our lives.