Page 30 of Montana Bride By Christmas
“Uncle George says hello. He wanted to come and see you. I said that was fine.” She brought her gaze to Hugh. “That’s okay, I hope?”
For a minute, he wondered if he’d swallowed his tongue, and then he found it. “Of course. You may invite anyone you like.”
Something flickered through her eyes. He wished he could tell if it was surprise or approval, but it was gone too suddenly.
Her hands paused over her purchases. “I got you something as well. I wasn’t sure if you liked candy or what flavor, but I chose this one. Green apple.” She handed it to him.
“Thank you.” As of this moment, it was his favorite.
He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her blue eyes and generous expression.
“I also saw this and thought of you.” She pulled out a small book with a dark brown cover and handed it to him. “I hope you don’t have a copy.”
He drew his gaze from hers to read the title. “The Morning Watches and Night Watches by John Ross Macduff.” He stroked the cover, his throat too tight to speak.
“Is it something you already have?”
He shook his head.
“Then I hope you’ll enjoy it.”
He had to say something and swallowed hard. “I certainly will. I’ve long wanted a copy. I have to ask. Where and how did you find this?”
She grinned, pleased with his reaction. “Someone traded it to Uncle George for supplies.”
“I’m so pleased you were able to get it from him.”
He couldn’t stop smiling, and feeling a little embarrassed by his reaction, he opened the first page. “‘Come near, and bless us when we wake, Ere through the world our way we take; Till, in the ocean of Thy love, We lose ourselves in heaven above!’” The words so stirred him that his voice deepened.
Her eyes shone. “That’s beautiful.” Her words were but a whisper.
Their gazes held, hers full of wonder, his likely full of surprise and?—
He couldn’t say what he felt. Awe, attraction and something that felt warm and homey in the depths of his being.
The sound of Evan slurping his candy drew them both to look at him, and they laughed, their gazes again coming together. Time stood still as they looked deeply into each other’s eyes. He wondered if she could see to the very most secret places of his heart, read his wants and failures.
Then she blinked and turned back to her parcel, taking out common, everyday supplies and putting them in the cupboard.
He didn’t want the feeling between them to end. He wanted to celebrate. That reminded him. “My sermon is on the prodigal son—or, as I am thinking of it—the lost son. When the fatherfound the son, he celebrated. I have found my son.” He smiled at Evan, who had started his second candy stick. “Is there some way we can celebrate?”
She stood beside him. Close enough that the place where her shoulder had rested for a short time grew warm. She leaned in close to whisper, “You mean like giving him a bath and putting clean clothes on him?”
He whispered back. “It would take two of us. And maybe the rest of the Marshall family to get him into a tub of water.”
She chuckled at his irony, her eyes flashing sunny skies as she looked at him. “One of these days, it is going to have to happen, but today might be a bit soon.” She turned back to Evan. “I can think of ways for us to celebrate, but what can we do that would include Evan?”
“I know. I guess my idea won’t work right now.”
She tapped her index finger on her chin. “Let’s not give up quite yet.” The tapping continued, and then she nodded. “I know of something he might cooperate with.”
If she had come up with an idea that would work for Evan, he might be tempted to kiss her.
No, he wouldn’t. What was he thinking?
“He likes to eat on the floor. Perhaps we can go to his level.”
He pictured them all hunkered down in the corner, shoulders drawn up and backs to one another. “You think we should all sit on the floor to eat?” He knew he sounded as shocked as he felt. “Isn’t that encouraging him to remain as he is?”
