Page 29

He drained the cup and forced his thoughts in a different direction.

It struck him how both he and Evan had suffered because of the failure of their parents, and he vowed he would somehow make it up to his son.

Exactly how he’d do that, he couldn’t say but having Annie here seemed like a good start.

What would he do if someone more suitable showed up on his doorstep?

He slowly filled his lungs, filling his heart with courage and strength. He would do what he must and send Annie away. She could do far better than settle for him.

His mind clear on the matter, he ate the breakfast she set before him. Would they do more Christmas preparations today?

Annie was awfully cheerful, and he wondered why. She saw his look of curiosity.

She bounced forward in her chair. “I remembered something my mother did with me when I was little. She made me dough to play with. I think I can remember how to make it. We can roll it out and cut out shapes to hang on our Christmas tree. Won’t that be fun?”

For the space of two seconds, he clung to his desire to keep things businesslike between them. Then he turned to Evan. “What do you think, son? Does that sound like fun?”

Evan looked hard at Hugh. He realized the boy was trying to guess how Hugh felt about it. Hugh smiled, letting some of his hesitant eagerness show.

Evan nodded.

“Good,” Annie said. As soon as she finished the dishes, she mixed up flour and salt and water until she declared it the right consistency.

They spent the rest of the morning rolling it out and cutting out stars, Christmas trees and cross shapes.

She poked a hole in the top of each. “So we can put a string through to hang them,” she explained.

She carefully arranged them on a tray and set it in the warming oven to dry.

He wondered what they would do in the afternoon. Would she continue to plan activities that kept them together? He soon had his answer.

“I’m going to make some more dough, and we can make whatever we want with it. Not just stuff for Christmas.”

They spent the afternoon rolling and punching and shaping the dough.

Evan made something and looked from Annie to Hugh as if seeking approval.

“What have you made?” Annie asked.

Evan pointed to it.

Annie gazed at Hugh, silently pleading for help. Something about the way she looked at him slipped between the cracks of his inner barriers and exploded like a burst of sparks from a burning log.

He couldn’t tear his gaze from her warm smile and trusting eyes.

“What do you think it is, Hugh?”

His breath rushed out, and he looked at Evan’s creation. “I’d say it was a dog. Am I right?”

Evan nodded and gave him a pleased smile. The boy carefully carried the dough dog to the mat in the corner and placed it beside the stuffed dog.

“How’d you know it was a dog?” Annie whispered.

“It looks almost like Spot.”

“It does not!” She huffed her shock.

“It does except for the ears and the eyes and the nose and the tail and the—” He laughed, pleased when she joined him. Her amusement filled her eyes and flooded his heart.

It became harder and harder to guard his thoughts.

He sobered. He must be careful. Not only was his future peace of mind at stake, but so was Evan’s.

That night, Annie read a story to Evan. Hugh wondered if the boy enjoyed the sense of routine as much as he did.

Hugh said prayers with the boy, feeling peace enfold them.

Then he took Evan and the pup to the bedroom.

They both curled up next to each other and sighed their contentment.

Knowing they were settled for the night, Hugh returned to the living room, where he’d built a fire.

Annie sat on the couch, staring into the flames.

And waiting for him?

Of course not. She was simply enjoying the warmth of the fire.

She turned to him as he sat beside her. “Evan is doing really well, don’t you think?”

“He’s come a long way.” He didn’t point out that it was just the beginning. He was only four. He had plenty of time.

“I’ve been thinking of what you told me about your mother.”

He stiffened at her words. Any talk or thought of her made his insides hurt.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the feeling that you think you are to blame for how she treated you. As if you somehow deserved it.”

He didn’t correct her.

“How can you believe that?” Her voice rang with passion.

“A mother is supposed to love her children. If she doesn’t, she must have something wrong with her.

I know if I had children, I would love them so fiercely that I would fight a band of marauding murderers to protect them.

Evan isn’t my own child, but I would do anything for him. ”

“You love him.” He meant it as a fact.

She didn’t deny it but looked away, a troubled expression on her face.

“You said you didn’t want to love.”

Her voice fell to a whisper. “I don’t, but sometimes I can’t help it.” She gave him a look of such agony that he couldn’t stop himself from putting an arm around her and drawing her to his chest.

“I’m sorry you’ve been hurt by love.”

She shuddered and leaned into him. For a moment, she didn’t speak. “Everything I love is ripped from me. My mother died. My brothers married. Not that I’m not happy for them, but they’ve moved on. My pa is off to see the ocean. And Grandfather—” The word choked from her, and she couldn’t go on.

“Your grandfather is getting old.”

“And tired. I know. But to think of losing him...” She rocked her head back and forth, her agony apparent.

Hugh sought for words of comfort. He prayed for wisdom.

It was his job as the preacher to offer up such things to those with troubled souls, but this was Annie.

He felt completely inadequate with her. One thing he knew, though.

“Annie, it’s your kind, loving spirit that makes you who you are.

It enables you to give those around you the care they need and deserve.

You could not have reached into Evan’s frightened little heart without love.

” He hoped she believed him, believed that love gave her the power to be who she was.

She sat up, jerked to her feet, and faced him. “I can be who I need to be without opening my heart to pain.” Her eyes widened with emotion.

He stood up, close enough to touch her arms, to pull her close and hold her tight, but something in her stance kept him from doing so.

“Was it Rudy who hurt you so badly that love frightens you?”

“Good night.” She spun away and headed down the hall in a great rush.

He stared after her.

What had the man done to her to leave such a scar?