to him,” Grandfather Marshall said. “But it’s obvious he’ll need lots of patient handling.”
Annie smiled at her grandfather. “We have time and patience, don’t we?”
The old man nodded. They turned to Hugh.
He would do everything in his power to give his son whatever he needed. “I have the rest of my life.”
His answer earned him a smile of approval from both of them.
“Feel free to do whatever you need to do.” Annie’s words were kind yet Hugh felt dismissed. As if he was in the way. The words often spoken echoed in his head. You’ll never be enough. He pushed them away. That was his mother speaking and he no longer had to listen to her. Hadn’t needed to since he was twelve when she died of what the preacher said was a broken heart.
Hugh knew it was because his brother, whom his mother loved so completely, had died some months before at age seventeen. Hugh had tried to fill his brother’s shoes but every time he did something he thought would help, Ma had uttered those oft-repeated words. You’ll never be good enough to take his place. He had no pa to voice an opinion contrary to hers.
Annie continued speaking, unaware of the thoughts tangling through Hugh’s mind.
“I’ll prepare supper and make friends with Evan.”
Evan stared at her, his gaze revealing absolutely nothing. As if the boy had shut off all connection with the world.
Anger, pain and sorrow intermingled in Hugh’s heart. Bile burned the back of his throat at how his wee son had been treated. He had to escape before he erupted.
“I’ll be in the office if you need anything.” He fled to the far room leaving the door half-open so he could hear if Evan or Annie required rescuing.
He pulled his sermon notes from the drawer and set them on the desk in front of him but didn’t read a word he had penned.
How could a nineteen-year-old girl from a protective family begin to understand what Evan had been through? He couldn’t help thinking this agreement with Annie was a mistake. The depths of his desperation drove him to prayers that came from the darkest corner of his heart.
* * *
Annie had no idea how to get through to Evan, how to prove to the child she could be trusted. She might have asked Grandfather but he had settled into his armchair by the stove and snored softly.
However, she knew what it felt like to be lost, alone, afraid. She’d felt that way after her mother had died even though she was surrounded by a loving family. When Rudy had left her, she’d known the same feelings, intensified this time because he chose to leave and she’d willingly opened her heart to him despite knowing the pain of loss. She hadn’t felt she could voice her feelings to her family. Even so, she’d received strength and comfort simply by their presence.
What would she have done if she’d been alone? Without family? Or worse, treated poorly? Heavenly Father, heal the hurts of this little boy. Help him learn to trust us. Give me wisdom in comforting him.
She’d have wanted someone to reach out to her, to show they cared, and that she mattered. She could offer that to Evan but she must proceed slowly, letting him set the pace. So she did the only thing she could do at the moment. She talked to him.
“It’s time for me to make supper. What would you like, Evan?”
Not so much as a twitch of interest to indicate he heard.
“Do you like stew?”
Not a flicker.
“Potatoes and gravy?”
Still nothing.
She listed item after item, all the while her hands busy, washing dishes Mrs. Ross had left from lunch and then peeling potatoes. “Bread and gravy?”
The slightest movement of his eye. “Good. Then you shall have it. I’ll make pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans and lots and lots of gravy.” She’d found a generously stocked pantry with jars of canned vegetables and several items of baked goods. Two loaves of bread that appeared to be freshly made. Mrs. Ross had done a good job caring for the preacher. Annie was confident she could do just as well.
She brought out one of the loaves and set it on a cutting board. “How thick do you like your bread?” She placed the knife to indicate a very thin slice. When Evan gave no response, she moved it slightly. Still no response. She widened it so the cut would result in a slice two inches thick.
Evan’s gaze came to hers.
She smiled. Despite whatever had happened to the boy, he wasn’t beyond interest in the things around him. “Too big?” She brought the knife closer to the end of the loaf and paused at a generously thick slice but nothing out of the ordinary. The knife hovered.
Evan watched and she knew it was where he wanted the bread cut. She did so.
“One slice or two?”
Evan’s gaze returned to the loaf and she understood he wanted two.
She chuckled at the way they’d been able to communicate. “You and I will do just fine, won’t we?”
His gaze held hers a second then he ducked his head. He had his father’s dark eyes and dark hair and would no doubt grow into a man as handsome as Hugh. Right now it was hard to see past the shaggy hair, the guarded eyes and the need for a good wash.
Annie turned her attention back to supper preparations, more than a little pleased with the way things had gone so far. Given time she had every expectation that Evan would become a happy, normal little boy. Four weeks would be plenty enough time to make Hugh see that he and Evan needed her. She’d gain her own home and family.
She hummed as she finished meal preparations and set the table but paused as she chose the plates.
Four places? Or did Hugh allow Evan to take his meals sitting in the corner? It wasn’t right. There was no need to continue treating him like an animal and she carried four plates to the table.
“Supper is almost ready.” She put down one plate. “For Grandfather.” She put down the second one. “For me.” Then the third plate. “For your papa.” She set the fourth plate down on the side closest to where Evan huddled but before she could say it was for him, he made a noise half grunt, half growl and kicked out one leg, catching Annie behind her knee. Her leg buckled. She caught at the back of the chair but it slipped from her grasp and banged to the floor.
Evan continued to swing his legs at her, making feral noises.
She fought for balance, trying to get out of his reach.
Hugh strode into the room, scooped his son into his arms and held him tight, restraining the flailing limbs. “Evan, you’re okay. No one is going to hurt you. I won’t let them.” He sent Annie a look of accusation.
She lifted her chin. She would not defend herself, would not say she had done nothing to Evan. The attack had been entirely unprovoked though she realized her expectation that he sit at the table had been a little hasty.
Evan
