Page 62 of Montana Bride By Christmas
Her voice fell to a whisper. “I don’t, but sometimes I can’t help it.” She gave him a look of such agony that he couldn’t stop himself from putting an arm around her and drawing her to his chest.
“I’m sorry you’ve been hurt by love.”
She shuddered and leaned into him. For a moment, she didn’t speak. “Everything I love is ripped from me. My mother died. My brothers married. Not that I’m not happy for them, but they’ve moved on. My pa is off to see the ocean. And Grandfather—” The word choked from her, and she couldn’t go on.
“Your grandfather is getting old.”
“And tired. I know. But to think of losing him...” She rocked her head back and forth, her agony apparent.
Hugh sought for words of comfort. He prayed for wisdom. It was his job as the preacher to offer up such things to those with troubled souls, but this was Annie. He felt completely inadequate with her. One thing he knew, though. “Annie, it’s your kind, loving spirit that makes you who you are. It enables you to give those around you the care they need and deserve. You could not have reached into Evan’s frightened little heart without love.” He hoped she believed him, believed that love gave her the power to be who she was.
She sat up, jerked to her feet, and faced him. “I can be who I need to be without opening my heart to pain.” Her eyes widened with emotion.
He stood up, close enough to touch her arms, to pull her close and hold her tight, but something in her stance kept him from doing so.
“Was it Rudy who hurt you so badly that love frightens you?”
“Good night.” She spun away and headed down the hall in a great rush.
He stared after her.
What had the man done to her to leave such a scar?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Annie rose the next morning, determined to go back to her initial decision to enter into a loveless marriage. She wanted nothing more than security, with her heart locked firmly behind thick barriers.
She had coffee prepared when Grandfather shuffled into the kitchen.
“Storm’s over,” he announced.
She glanced at the window. Dawn turned the frost covering the glass to a blushing pink. She hadn’t even noticed the change in the weather.
And just in time. No more being shut up together as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Hugh, Evan, and Happy hurried into the room. Happy went directly to the door and waited to be let out. He ran around snapping at the snow and yapping.
Hugh, his hand resting on Evan’s shoulder, laughed. “Silly dog thinks snow is fun.”
As Annie watched father and son, feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge tugged at her heart. Determined to keep her emotions firmly in control, she turned to the stove, stirring the scrambled eggs with more vigor than was necessary.
Hugh whistled, and Happy bounced into the house, circling the room at a gallop.
Evan laughed as the pup bumped into him, knocking him to his bottom.
Annie looked at Hugh—to share the enjoyment of this boy, nothing else—but at the warm, claiming look in his eyes, her heart revolted and burst free.
Claiming? She shook her head and returned to breakfast preparations. It took every ounce of her determination to push her heart back behind the barriers she’d once thought solid and impenetrable.
A few minutes later, she was able to speak without any trembling in her voice. “Breakfast is ready.” She served it and sat down, keeping her head bowed as if waiting for the blessing to be asked when, in truth, she didn’t know if she could look at Hugh and keep her feelings under control.
Grandfather said grace, and for a few minutes, attention was on the food.
“I need to check on the Barrets this morning,” Hugh announced. “They might have run out of wood.”
He finished his breakfast, drained his coffee, and pulled on his heavy outerwear. “I’ll shovel a path to the woodshed and the church before I leave.”
Silence followed his departure. The room seemed empty, hollow even.
