Page 53 of Montana Bride By Christmas
“I think the soup is done.” She hurried to the kitchen and set out the bowls. When Hugh didn’t follow, she glanced back.
He stared at the tub of water.
She closed her eyes. How could she have forgotten that? They’d have to carry it outside and dump it unless they wanted to leave it sit until the storm ended. That wouldn’t be a good idea with a little boy and a curious pup. Someone would sooner or later play in it and spill it.
“I’ll help you carry it outside.” She grabbed her coat and boots.
He came to get his. His arm banged into her shoulder as he slipped into his coat. He halted. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” He touched her shoulder.
She told herself it wasn’t possible for him to hurt her. Told herself she didn’t want anything from him, but nevertheless, she leaned into his touch, as a hollowness she refused to admit sucked at her insides. Drawing in strength with a deep breath,she pulled away. “I’m fine.” She wrapped a scarf around her head and marched back to the living room to grab one side of the tub.
He followed, his gaze never leaving her face. His eyes were dark and bottomless, so she couldn’t guess what he was thinking. Finally, he broke off the stare and grabbed the other handle, and they carried the tub through to the door.
“Evan, hold your dog so he doesn’t run out into the cold.”
Evan wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck.
Hugh opened the door. A blast of Arctic air raced in on the wings of snow so harsh it stung Annie’s face. Knowing they must hurry, she and Hugh carried the tub outside. Grandfather closed the door behind them.
“Over here,” Hugh shouted and led to the corner of the house and took three steps away. “Here.” They tipped the water to the ground, stepping back to avoid their feet getting wet. The tub dangled from one hand; Hugh grabbed Annie’s elbow and hurried them back to the door.
Inside, he dropped the tub and looked at Annie. A slow smile spread across his face and dipped deep into her heart. “You look like a snow maiden.” He pulled off his gloves and wiped his thumb across her lashes. Her pulse picked up speed.
Snow clung to his lashes and his chin, and she pulled off her own mittens. “I suppose that makes you a snow man.” She wiped his lashes and chin.
His smile lingered, but his eyes filled with something besides amusement. Something that made her tongue cleave to the roof of her mouth, and her lungs refuse to work.
His thumb still rested on her cheek, warm and possessive. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Was he thinking of kissing her?
“Did I hear something about soup?” Grandfather asked, a warning note in his voice.
Annie spun away, slipped out of her coat and boots and hurried to the stove. She should thank Grandfather for hiswarning, but it was hard to when disappointment raged through her.
How foolish. She wasn’t disappointed. She did not want to fall in love. She would not allow it.
Had Rudy ever looked at her like Hugh just did? Had she ever felt with him as if she hung between reality and dreams, only a gossamer thread holding her in place? She spent an inordinate amount of time stirring the soup before she could face those at the table. When she turned, she almost dropped the pot of soup.
Evan sat at the table.
“Happy needed his mat,” Hugh said, his words deep with emotion.
Annie jerked her gaze from Hugh to his son. “That was very kind of you.”
Evan nodded.
Annie set the pot on the table with a thud as her arms suddenly lost their strength. If she lived to the age of one hundred, she would probably never know anything that gave her more pleasure than to see the boy at the table. Clothed and in his right mind, she quoted a portion of a verse. She needed no other reason for seeking this marriage than that one little boy.
Certainly not love. Neither she nor Hugh wanted the complication of it.
She knew her reasons. What were his?
Hugh staredat his bowl of soup. How had helping bathe a boy and a dog taken him so far down the road in the wrong direction? He was at a loss to explain it. However, he must finda way to correct it. As soon as the meal was over, he pushed away from the table. “I’ll be in my office.”
At his desk, he looked at his notebook without writing a thing. He opened his Bible, praying for guidance. Despite the hot stove in the corner, the room was cold. Vacant. Empty.
From the other side of the closed door came the sound of Annie laughing. Was it something Evan did? Perhaps she romped with the puppy. Or Evan did. And Hugh was missing it because of his wayward, needy heart.
He leaned back in his chair, a smile on his lips. A puppy worked wonders in Evan. Thank You, God. And thank you, Annie, for bringing the dog into our lives.
