boy bared his teeth.
Hugh held Evan’s head immobile. “You can’t bite. You aren’t an animal.”
Again Hugh’s gaze hit Annie’s with the force of accusation. Did he think she would judge the child? She shook her head. “It’s my fault. I set a fourth plate on the table and he knew I meant for him to sit at the table. It’s too soon.”
She tore her gaze from Hugh’s and looked at the boy in his arms. “Evan?” She waited, hoping he would acknowledge her but he continued to struggle. “I understand you aren’t ready to join us at the table. That’s okay. When you are, you can sit with us like a little boy who belongs in a family.”
He began to calm.
She continued. There were so many things she wanted him to understand. “This is your home, your papa.”
Hugh sucked in air like he had forgotten to breathe the last few minutes. “I will never let you go again.” His voice broke on the words.
Annie knew from what the preacher had said in the months since he came to Bella Creek that his wife had disappeared along with their son. Knew he’d discovered his wife had died and his son was missing. She wondered about the details. Did he let her go? Why? Or had she left because of something he did?
So many questions. So few answers. Would knowing the facts help her deal with Evan? Or did she want to know because she wondered why Hugh was so set on a businesslike marriage? One would think with him being a preacher he would insist on love being present in such a relationship. But despite the questions flooding her mind she couldn’t imagine asking him about his wife.
Was this one of those secrets they had agreed could exist?
“Supper is ready.” She turned back to the stove, put the food in serving bowls and set them on the table.
Meanwhile, Hugh lowered Evan to the floor where the boy crowded into the corner.
Tears stung Annie’s eyes at the fear on Evan’s face and she vowed she would prove to him that he was safe and life could be fun.
She found a tin bowl and put the two slices of bread in it, drowning them in gravy. She cut the bread into small pieces, put a spoon in the bowl and set it on the floor close enough Evan could reach it but not so close he would feel threatened and lash out again.
Hugh watched her every move. Prepared, she supposed, to intervene.
Grandfather had wakened at the ruckus and observed the whole time.
Annie knew he would not hesitate to give his opinion and wondered what it would be. She stood by the table waiting for Hugh to take the lead. He waited, perhaps for the same reason.
“Shall we eat?” she said.
“By all means. Where would you like me to sit?”
She stood behind the chair closest to the stove and indicated the one across the table for Hugh. Grandfather sat at the spot closest to his armchair and across from where Evan sat on the floor.
Hugh stared at his plate, the picture of despair.
Annie wished she could offer some encouragement to him but she wasn’t sure a touch would be welcome and there seemed no adequate words.
“I’ll ask the blessing,” he said and Annie bowed her head, silently praying her own words. Gratitude for the food, and for the chance to earn her own home, but more than that, a request for God’s healing love to fill their hearts.
Grandfather waited until the food had been passed around and everyone had a good start on eating before he voiced his opinion. “We have our job cut out for us with that one.” He tipped his head toward Evan who had pulled the bowl close and turned his back to them.
There was no clang of the metal spoon against the metal dish and Annie knew the boy ate with his fingers. At the moment it seemed the least of their worries. But Grandfather’s words encouraged her. He had made it clear he meant to ally himself with her and Hugh in winning this boy’s trust and cooperation.
Hugh put his fork down as if he’d lost interest in the meal. “Any suggestions?”
Grandfather also lowered his fork to the table and considered his words. “I once knew an old Indian so weathered and wrinkled you could get lost in the crevasses of his face. He and I worked for the same outfit back before I got married.” He paused and grew somber as he always did when he thought about his long-dead wife. “I knew him several weeks before I heard him utter a word. When I asked him about it he said he never had anything to say until then.” Grandfather’s gaze went to Evan. “I expect it’s the same with him. Same with leaving his corner. He’ll do it when life beyond that spot is more interesting, more enticing than the walls he’s pressing into.”
Hugh turned his gaze toward his son.
Annie watched him, her heart slowly melting as sorrow intermingled with hope in his face.
She was needed here and she could think of no better reason for seeking an arrangement with Hugh than to offer one little boy a safe home.
Hugh’s concern for Evan would guarantee Annie a safe home as well.
Unless a more suitable woman appeared on his doorstep in the next four weeks. She had to assume he had sent advertisement for a wife beyond the possibilities of Bella Creek.
Outside the wind battered the walls of the parsonage. A cold draft swept by her feet and she knew the temperature had dropped. If it snowed, travel would be difficult. Perhaps too difficult for any interested woman to be willing to venture to Bella Creek in answer to a request for a mail-order bride.
Being a ranch-raised young woman she couldn’t bring herself to pray for a storm to break all records but perhaps God would see fit to send enough snow to keep visitors away.
Surely that wasn’t too selfish a request.
* * *
Hugh tried to relax. Grandfather Marshall’s words of support and encouragement meant a great deal to him. As did Annie’s insight into why Evan had struck out. He noticed she rubbed her leg when she rose to make the tea.
“Did he kick you?” he asked, softly, not wanting to upset Evan.
“It’s nothing.” She glanced at Evan. “He didn’t do it out of spite.”
Again, she had an understanding of the child that rather surprised him. The few times he’d seen her before led him to believe she cared only about having fun though if he’d stopped to think he might see that she carried a huge load of responsibility and some lighthearted activity on occasion might be in order.
The thought only darkened his mind. There would be little enough time or opportunity for fun while caring for Evan. Hugh had consulted Dr. Baker who would offer no assurances that Evan would ever be okay.
“Some children,” the doctor said, “are permanently damaged by being treated so poorly. Others, however, respond to patience and love. Just look at little Ellie.” He referred to the baby his daughter and Conner Marshall had adopted. The difference being that she was so young compared to Evan.
As
