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CHAPTER ELEVEN

I t took Annie a long time to fall asleep.

She couldn’t say who had initiated the kiss, but it didn’t matter.

She had kissed him. And he’d kissed her.

It wasn’t her first kiss. She and Rudy had kissed a time or two, but it was nothing like this.

It seemed her heart would explode with warmth and longing.

With joy and hope. And when she’d reminded him of his promise to marry her in three weeks, he hadn’t added unless he could find someone more suitable.

Maybe he’d seen that she was perfectly suitable.

Suitable? What an empty word. And yet wouldn’t Hugh have rejoiced if his mother had found seen him as such? The poor man to have had his own mother treat him so poorly.

Perhaps God had sent her here for Hugh’s sake as much as for Evan’s.

She could live with being suitable if it helped Hugh. And if it made her needed so badly that he would never consider anyone else.

It would provide the security she craved without the risk of loving. She ignored the twist in the bottom of her heart. The protest that it was too late. She closed the door firmly to such thoughts.

There was one more way she could prove herself invaluable, and she’d broach the subject with Hugh in the morning.

The room was icy cold when she awakened, and she dashed to the kitchen to start a fire in the stove. She tried to see out the window, but snow crusted the outside. The wind tore at the eaves and howled around the corners. The sound made her shiver every bit as much as did the cold.

Hugh hurried into the room and held his hands out to the warmth of the stove. “I peeked out the door. I still can’t see past the corner of the house. I wonder how long this will last.”

Grandfather hobbled into the room. “Another day, according to my bones. Maybe longer. Sure glad to be indoors where it’s nice and warm.

” He eyed the coffee pot, which had not yet boiled.

“I recall a time I was outside in weather like this...” He launched into a story that Annie had heard before, but Hugh hadn’t, and he listened with interest as Grandfather told of being caught out in a storm and how he’d fashioned a shelter out of bushes and survived.

“Could’ve died. Sure thought I was going to, but the good Lord saw fit to spare me. That coffee ready yet?”

It was, and Annie poured him a cup and set it on the table. She did the same for Hugh.

Hugh met her gaze, his eyes searching hers. She gave a slight lift of her shoulders. If he thought she’d be thinking about last night’s kiss, he needn’t worry. She had other things to consider.

Grandfather harrumphed. “God has left me here to make sure my family live good, God-honoring lives and conduct themselves appropriately.”

Annie hurried back to the stove lest Grandfather see the heat rushing to her cheeks. Not that she’d done anything wrong.

Except let her heart go beyond the boundaries she’d set for it. That must not happen again. Despite her mental warning, she recalled that kiss and how something inside her had burst free.

She shook her head. Her imagination was running away with her.

Evan and Happy hurried into the room. Evan stopped by the stove to get warm.

“Good morning, Evan. Did you have a good sleep?”

He eyed her a moment and then nodded. Happy circled the room and returned to Evan’s side. He watched Evan and then sprang up and down on his back legs and barked.

Evan startled and then laughed.

Annie chuckled and turned to meet Hugh’s eyes, intending to share joy over the child.

Instead, she got lost in the warmth of his gaze.

There might have been just the two of them for all she knew.

Was he thinking of last night? Or was he simply grateful for Evan’s progress and sharing his joy with her?

She jerked back to the stove. It was the latter. No reason to think otherwise.

Hugh let the dog out to relieve himself. It was a quick trip.

She made breakfast and served it.

Evan slowly came to his chair. Spot the stuffed dog was on it, and he picked up the toy and took it to his mat, sitting it up.

Annie’s throat tightened. The boy had clearly changed places with the pretend dog, who thought he was a boy.

As Grandfather asked the blessing, gratitude welled up inside her.

There were so many things to be thankful for—a warm house, and a little boy who was doing better and a puppy who helped Evan.

For Grandfather. And for Hugh. Her thoughts stalled there.

She could not think…would not admit that her world tipped sideways at his name.

“Amen,” Grandfather said. “Nothing like a hot breakfast to make a man forget about the weather outside.” He ate with enjoyment.

Annie watched Evan. She’d noticed before how carefully he ate, and he did the same this morning as he struggled to use a fork.

Her insides ached at the neglect and abuse this child had endured. She shifted her gaze to Hugh. Saw a reflection of her pain and something more. The best way she could describe it was to say it made her feel like he saw a shared future with them both dedicated to making life good for Evan.

Making life good. The idea held great appeal. However, it wasn’t security that accompanied that thought. It was happiness and belonging.

She jerked her attention to her food and her mind to her plans for the day.

As soon as the meal had been cleaned up, she sat back at the table where Hugh remained. Grandfather had gone to his soft chair, and Evan played on the mat with Spot and Happy.

“It’s not long until Christmas,” she said.

“I know. The children at Sunday school are already learning parts for the concert.”

“Let’s talk about what we’ll do for Christmas.”

Hugh sat up straight, looking confused. “Isn’t the Christmas concert enough? I understand oranges and small gifts are distributed to the children.”

“I don’t mean how the church will celebrate. I mean how we, as a family, will.” She watched as the implications of what she said sank in.

He rocked his head back and forth, clearly confused.

She pressed on. “What did your family do to make it special?”

His eyes darkened, and he looked past her. “My ma didn’t celebrate anything after Kenny died.”

She guessed as much. “What about before? Surely Christmas meant more than another day.”

A smile tugged at his mouth. “I remember one year when I was maybe nine or ten.

Kenny announced to Ma that it was Christmas and we should do something.

She said to do whatever he wanted. He told me to put on my outer clothes, and he grabbed the ax.

I remember thinking he was so big and brave with the ax over his shoulder.

We marched down the road to the nearby river.

“We need a Christmas tree, Kenny said. Not too big but something nice and green to remind us that Jesus came to give us new life.

“Will Mama be happy? I asked.

“Kenny squatted down to face me and patted my shoulder. Hugh, Mama isn’t happy very often. That’s just the way it is.”

Annie wondered if Hugh realized he had put his hand on his shoulder as if recalling how his brother had touched him.

“We found a tree.” Hugh smiled. “Kenny insisted we look at it from every angle and made a great deal out of pointing out how perfect it was. He told me to stand back while he chopped it down, and then together we dragged it home and set it in a pail of sand in the corner of the living room. Kenny produced some bits of yarn—” Hugh grew thoughtful.

“He must have gathered it up for weeks. He showed me how to tie it into bows, and we hung them on the tree.” He smiled and then chuckled.

“I expect it looked pretty crude, but we were happy with it.”

Annie pictured two young boys doing their best to make the season special. She saw love and tenderness in every action.

“Kenny helped me make a star out of brown paper and tied it to the top of the tree. Kenny opened the big family Bible, found the Christmas story, and read it. He wasn’t a good reader, but I didn’t know, and if I had, I wouldn’t have cared.

All that counted was this feeling of sharing something with my brother.

I felt like I mattered to him. Ma patted Kenny’s head and said, You are such a dear boy. ”

His voice grew husky. “She never said anything to me, but Kenny squeezed my shoulder and said I was a dear boy too. Then he gave me a present wrapped in a bit of cloth.”

Hugh again got that faraway look in his eyes, and Annie knew he had gone back in his memories to that day.

“It was a wooden whistle he’d carved. Best gift I ever got.” He grew quiet and thoughtful. “Best Christmas I ever had.”

Annie realized that it was likely the last Christmas Kenny had been alive. Hugh had lost so much when he lost his brother. She decided she would make this Christmas one to rival that one. Both Evan and Hugh would have memories of this year that would stay with them the rest of their lives.

“Nothing special about your Christmases with the Stewarts?”

“They were older and thought a quiet time of reading and a new shirt was enough.”

She chuckled, hoping to draw him away from the darkness that filled his eyes. “Surely different than a Marshall Christmas. Ours have always been full of fun and activity.”

She was rewarded by the flare of interest in his eyes. A glance at Evan, and she knew he listened to every word.

“What is a Marshall Christmas like?” Hugh asked.

“When Ma was alive, she always found something special for each of us. I remember the year she bought me a hairbrush and hand mirror set with English roses painted on the back.” She still had them and cherished them.

“Go on.”

“We have a special breakfast—everyone’s favorites. Then Pa and the boys do chores. When they come in, we open presents.” She grinned. “It’s very noisy. We play games and then have a big dinner in the middle of the afternoon.”

“Sure is different than mine, isn’t it?”