Page 42 of Montana Bride By Christmas
He took note of how she had filled a bowl with scraps and knew it was for the dog. He immediately reiterated her good points—and there were many. For his peace of mind, he should hurry back to his office, but he preferred to spend time with his son in the warm kitchen. Spot, the stuffed dog, sat in the chair he hoped Evan would soon occupy.
Annie put a plate in front of Spot and spoke to Hugh. “I really think Spot would like to sit on the floor on a nice warm mat, but I see Evan has that place. Poor Spot. He’ll have to keep pretending he’s a boy.”
Hugh watched Evan. He shifted as if making room on his mat for the dog, then looked from the chair back to the mat. Was he considering sitting at the table?
Hugh looked to Annie, knowing his eyes brimmed with gratitude.
She smiled, looking rather pleased with herself.
Be careful how much approval you show, his brain shouted. He had every reason to be grateful for all she was doing. And no reason, that he could recall, not to let her know.
A short time later, the meal over, he lingered over his coffee, content to simply enjoy the warmth of the kitchen. A knock sounded on the front door. He looked at Annie. “Are you expecting someone?”
“Not me.”
Reluctantly, he left the comfort of the kitchen and crossed the living room to answer the door. Six ladies with heads high faced him.
“Pastor, we need to talk to you.”
His heart sank at the tone in Mrs. Shearer’s voice. He stepped back to let the ladies enter. “Won’t you have a seat?”
They marched in, looked about, and sat down...perching on the edges of seats in the living room. He grabbed the only remaining chair and sat, certain he wasn’t going to like what they had to say. They did not look like they had come offering assistance.
Mrs. Shearer appeared to be the spokeswoman. She glanced toward the kitchen. She couldn’t likely see Grandfather in his armchair, and if Annie had a lick of sense, she would stay out of sight.
The outer door opened and closed. Had she decided to leave so she wouldn’t overhear a conversation between Hugh and some of his parishioners? Knowing she’d gone outside allowed him to relax marginally.
Mrs. Shearer leaned forward, her look intense. “I speak on behalf of the entire church?—”
Hugh strongly doubted that.
“When I say we find it most objectionable that you are living here with young Miss Marshall without the benefit of marriage.” She sniffed and adjusted her gloves. The five other ladies imitated her.
Hugh didn’t show the least reaction, though inside, anger ignited. Forcing himself to speak calmly, he said, “May I ask why you object?”
Mrs. Shearer sputtered. “I would think it would be obvious, especially to a man of God.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s not. There is adequate chaperoning. Unless you don’t think Mr. Marshall is trustworthy.” He let the words hang in the air.
Mrs. Shearer lifted a finger in a scolding manner. “As the preacher, you must live a life above reproach. Think of the example you are setting for the unmarried boys and girls around you. Pastor Arness, you need to reconsider your actions.” She rose and turned to the door. Her followers did the same. “By the way, I have an unmarried sister coming to visit for Christmas. I think you’d find her ideal. I expect her to arrive any day.” She waited expectantly.
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
With her nose in the air, she steamed for the door with five righteously indignant women in her wake.
He waited until they marched down the street. By exerting every ounce of self-control he managed not to bang the door shut.
Thankfully, Annie didn’t hear any of that.
She stormed into the living room. “You promised me four weeks.”
“When did you come back inside?”
“In time to hear that woman tell you about her sister.”
He slowly turned to face her. My, but she was a sight all fired up. Her eyes flashed shards of blue, her cheeks were touched with pink from being out in the cold, and perhaps because of her anger. Her fists were jammed on her hips as she glowered at him.
“I also said until someone more suitable came along.” Though, he didn’t mean to suggest that Mrs. Shearer’s sister would be more suitable. There was no way of judging until he actually met the woman. She might be ideal unless she was remotely like her sister.
