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She was not what he’d expected. But then he couldn’t say what that was. All he knew for certain was she deserved better than to be trapped in a loveless marriage. And he could offer her nothing else because...

He could no longer remember the reasons and sat forward, pulled his Bible close, and turned to Luke chapter nine, verse sixty-two, the verse he had chosen to follow when he began his ministry.

No man, having put his hand to the plough and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.

He would not turn back on his decision to put God first and keep Him there above all else.

Yes, there was room for his son. Nothing and no one else.

His mind firmly made up, he stared at the verse.

Should he use this for the text of his next message?

However, no thoughts came to mind, and he opened the book Annie had given him.

The words were exactly what he needed: a prayer for God to exclude frivolous, foolish thoughts.

Had his mind not gone down the wrong track?

It was time to pull it back to what mattered, to the choices and decisions he had purposefully made.

He bowed his head and tried to pray, but the storm raged outside, distracting him. How long would it last? As long as it did, they would be shut up together. He might as well make the best of it. Perhaps it was God’s way of giving him time to spend with Evan.

And Annie?

No, not Annie, though, of course, she would be present.

He forced himself to remain in the office another hour, then, with the excuse he needed to assure himself that the others were safe, he returned to the kitchen.

Grandfather sat in his soft armchair reading a book. Annie peeled potatoes, and Evan sat on the floor beside Happy. Both of them examined a knot of wood.

It seemed none of them had missed him. Not that he thought they should. Nor was he disappointed. Yet his mother’s voice echoed through his thoughts. I don’t need you. The wrong boy died.

He shook his head, trying to drive away the painful memory.

Annie had stopped peeling potatoes and studied him. She wiped her hands on a towel and came to his side. “Are you okay?” She touched his arm, her soft voice and gentle touch going a long way to erase his mother’s words.

“I’m fine.” He couldn’t smile. Not yet. It always took a few minutes for the pain to subside after he’d remembered how little his mother valued him.

“Come. Sit down and have coffee and cookies.” She led him to the table, and he let her. Welcomed her guiding hand. If only he could trust her kindness to be permanent. But he feared the day she would realize he wasn’t what she wanted or needed that she’d made a mistake in wanting to marry him.

By the time she placed a cup of coffee and a plate of cookies before him, he had his feelings firmly under control.

Evan slipped to the chair kitty-corner from Hugh and eyed the cookies. “You may have two,” Hugh said.

Evan took one, then looked to Hugh for direction.

“One more.”

Evan took it and sat eating carefully. Hugh couldn’t say if it was because he feared incurring wrath if he made a mess or if it was because he was unfamiliar with eating at the table.

Hugh looked at Annie, the questions unspoken but shared.

Evan finished and slipped down. The pup raced into the living room, and Evan followed at a much slower pace.

Annie took Evan’s place. “I sometimes wonder what he’s been through, but then I’m glad I don’t know. It’s easier to deal with what we see than to try and undo the past.”

Grandfather finished his coffee and pushed the cup aside.

“God returned him to you. I gotta believe He sent Happy to help the boy heal. Seems to me the best thing you two can do is love him, and you’re doing a fine job of that.

” He looked from Annie to Hugh, and Hugh knew he wasn’t mistaking the look of warning in the old man’s eyes.

He recalled something Grandfather had said.

Sometimes, Annie got a bee in her bonnet, and he stood by and waited for her to get it out of her system.

Was that what he hoped would happen here?

Hugh expected it was so. He’d be okay. He knew he would. He had to be. But how would Evan react?

The storm continued unabated the rest of the day and still raged as night fell.

Evan took Hugh’s hand, and the boy went to bed without a fuss. Happy followed them and curled up alongside the boy. Hugh watched them. Then, he realized Annie stood in the doorway.

He took her arm, and they tiptoed down the hall. “God is good to me even when I don’t deserve it.”

She chuckled. “I guess none of us ever deserves it.”

Grandfather had gone to bed, and Hugh and Annie settled on the couch in front of the fire. Hugh wasn’t wanting to go to sleep just yet, and it seemed Annie wasn’t either.

“It’s good to see Evan doing so well,” he said.

“I was afraid I’d fail to help him, though I suppose I did so when I let his mother leave.

” He hadn’t meant to mention Bernice. What point was there in letting Annie know how badly he’d failed?

Except perhaps to make her understand why she should run from marrying him.

She shifted to look directly at him. “You let her go? Why wouldn’t you stop her?”

“Let is the wrong word. I came home one day, and she was gone.”

“Did you try to find her before you came here?”

He might as well tell her the whole story.

That way, she’d understand why he was not the man for her.

“I admit I licked my wounds for a few days, believing she would come back.” He let the truth come through in his own mind.

“I suppose I knew from the first that she wouldn’t.

I had failed to live up to her expectations. Just as I have always failed.”

She studied him silently for a moment. He could not look at her but stared at the flames as they twisted and turned...much like his thoughts.

“What do you mean, you have always failed? Are you saying Bernice wasn’t the first time you felt this way?”

He watched her reaction out of the corner of his eye.

“I had a brother. Kenny. He was five years older, and I suppose he was like a father to me seeing as our pa was gone. Seems he preferred hunting and wandering to taking care of his family. It was Kenny who taught me to ride, to braid a rope, and to fix things around the place. It was Kenny who taught me how to play games.” He stopped as memories of Kenny washed over him.

“A boy couldn’t have asked for a better brother.

” He didn’t know if he’d reached out for Annie’s hand or if she’d reached for his, but he was grateful for the comfort her grasp offered.

He drew in a steadying breath so he could go on. “Then came the winter I was eleven. Kenny went to town, and I stayed home to tend the fires. Ma would often forget, and we’d come home to an icy house. Kenny said it was too cold to leave her without heat.”

His throat tightened, so he had to stop for a moment.

“Kenny never came back.” He would not let the wail clawing at his teeth escape and forced himself to speak slowly and calmly.

“The preacher brought us the news he had slipped on the ice and fallen under the wheels of a loaded wagon. He didn’t suffer, the preacher said by way of comfort.

I tried to talk to Ma, but she acted like she didn’t hear me.

We buried him in town next to the church.

To this day, I find funerals hard...to hear the sound of the dirt peppering onto the coffin—” He shuddered.

Annie edged closer and rubbed his arm.

He closed his mind to everything but the story he must tell.

She had to know what sort of man he really was.

“I tried to take Kenny’s place. About two months after Kenny’s death, Ma fixed supper.

I was so grateful for this return to normal.

I told her I would do my best to look after things like Kenny had.

She put the big spoon down with a thunk.

Boy, don’t you ever think you can take Kenny’s place.

You don’t hold a candle to him. You’ll never be good enough.

She marched from the kitchen and left me alone. ”

He did his best to still the shudder those words still had the power to trigger.

“After that day, she never again sat at the table with me and got out of bed less and less.”

The pain inside was too great to hold, and he sprang to his feet and moved closer to the fireplace to stare at the licking, leaping flames, wishing they would consume the clawing memory.

When he could continue without his voice breaking, he did so.

“Pa returned once and learned that Kenny had died. He saw Ma huddled in her bed. He said, Well, that’s that, and left the next morning.

Didn’t even say goodbye or ask if I needed anything.

I learned later that he had died in a mine accident.

” He eased breath between his teeth. “Ma died a few weeks later. I was too young to be left alone, the preacher said, and he took me home with him.” This part of his tale contained less pain, and he hurried on.

“He and his wife treated me good. Preacher was kind and often read to me from the Bible and explained verses to me. He made such a difference in my life I knew I wanted to follow in his footsteps. And so here I am today.”

Annie rose and stood beside him, also staring into the flames.

What was she thinking? Did she see him for the failure he was? Did she see how much the admission...the acknowledgment...burned at his insides? Would she now realize why she shouldn’t marry him?

She confronted him, her face turned up to his. So close he could see the flames dancing in her eyes, see the tiny white lines at the corners of her mouth. Feel the promise of her personality.

“Hugh Arness, why would you believe such awful things about yourself? Don’t you know that you are ‘fearfully and wonderfully made’? That God does not make mistakes?”

He swallowed hard at her challenging look. “God’s creation was perfect until sin entered. Now, it’s flawed. People bear a marred image.”

“That’s so. Yet it seems to me you are more willing to believe what your mother says about you than what God says.”

“I am?” The idea both surprised him and startled him. He saw the flicker of truth in her words. “Are you saying my mother was wrong?”

She chuckled. “You know she was.”

“How do I know?” He searched her gaze for more of those cleansing words.

“Because you know what the Bible says.”

“Well,” he said with some modesty, “not everything. In fact, I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

“How about the verse in Second Corinthians that says, ‘Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.’ Or ‘For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he.’ Aren’t you thinking your mother was right when you know God doesn’t agree with her? ”

He wanted to argue, to say he didn’t doubt God, but neither did he disbelieve his mother. Annie’s gaze was so tender, so giving, so believing, he couldn’t pull the words from his insides.

“Do you want Evan to believe that the way he was treated before you found him is the way he deserved to be treated?”

“Never.” The word exploded from him.

“Nor does the way your mother treated you and talked to you mean it’s who you are or how you should be treated.” She pressed gentle fingers to his cheek. Her gaze poured into him until he felt as if some healing balm had been applied to his insides.

“You make me want to believe.”

“Then choose to do so.”

He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

Her skin was soft and warm as summer air.

His heart overflowed with pleasure at her encouragement.

And to think he thought her unsuitable. “You make me want to kiss you.” And before he could think better of it, he lowered his head to her tipped-up face and caught her lips in the gentlest of kisses.

He lingered for a long, forgetful moment, mesmerized by the warmth of her lips.

Her hands clung to his arms, accepting and giving.

A log in the fireplace fell to the grate with a noisy explosion of sparks.

He jerked back. Or was she the one to move away? They stood a foot apart, staring at each other. Her eyes were wide with shock. Remorse and a hundred accusing thoughts filled him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He scrubbed at his hair.

“I only meant to be grateful.” It had started out as gratitude but shifted rather sharply to something else.

Something he couldn’t even identify. A feeling so intense it felt like he’d stepped too close to the fire.

Those feelings lingered still, though he tried to drown them in apology.

“Forgive me.” He should promise it would never happen again, but was it a promise he could keep?

Unless he could be certain of doing so, he wouldn’t give it.

She shifted her gaze to the fire, leaving him feeling cold and empty. “No need to apologize. After all, if we’re to be married, I expect we’ll have to practice kissing.”

Her airy words sucked at his insides. She spoke of marriage as if it would happen. He knew he should remind her he had almost three weeks to find someone more suitable, though the days were slipping by so fast.

He had to find someone else. Someone less appealing.

Less threatening to his peace of mind.

Someone not so given to pointing out the flaws in his thinking.

Was that what he really wanted? He could not answer the question honestly. Instead, he made preparations to go to bed, waiting only until Annie went to her own room and closed the door behind her.

If only he could close the door as firmly to his errant thoughts.