eyebrows arched letting him know she’d be reluctant to give a promise. A parallel truth blared through his mind. Maybe she was also reluctant to believe a promise. Had some young fellow hurt her with a broken promise? He hadn’t heard about a failed romance and now couldn’t ask without seeming to be too interested. However, it would explain why she was willing to settle for the sort of arrangement he offered. Trouble was, she would get over that hurt as soon as someone more appealing came along. He couldn’t put Evan through that. No, he needed someone who accepted a businesslike union as her best choice.
She tapped a toe, reminding him he hadn’t finished his statement.
“The condition I would like your agreement on is that no secret can be allowed that hurts Evan.”
Her countenance underwent a transformation. A smile wreathed sparkling eyes. “I can promise you I would not do anything by omission or commission to hurt that little boy.” She held up a hand before he could reply. “That is not to say I won’t make mistakes. I ask if you see me making one that you speak to me about it.” She chuckled low in her throat. “I might not thank you at first but once I’m past my annoyance I will.” She ducked her head. “I might not tell you though.”
Something about her rapid shift of moods, her honest admission of pride—if that’s what he chose to call it—made him want to share a laugh with her. Made him wonder what it would be like to witness both the pride and the humor in action. Seemed he’d get that chance in the next few weeks unless some other woman showed up on his doorstep in answer to his ad because, at this point, he really had no other option.
He shepherded his thoughts back to the moment. He could have wished for more information from her but understood he had to settle for this compromise. He pushed off the corner of the desk.
“Very well. As long as we’re both in agreement about doing what’s best for Evan.”
She tipped her head in acknowledgment. “You can trust me to do what I think is best for him. Speaking of which—” She indicated the open door. “Perhaps I could get to work.”
“Of course.” He followed her from the office.
In the kitchen he paused, uncertain what his role was. “Do you want me to show you around?”
She turned full circle. “I know my way around a kitchen. But could you show me where the vegetables are?”
He opened the small door by the pantry. “My cold room. You’ll find frozen meat in the cupboard in the woodshed. Milk is delivered every morning. I have an account at your uncle’s store for anything else you need. Feel free to purchase whatever is required.”
Both their gazes circled back to Evan, crouched in the corner, watching them warily.
“I don’t know what to do about him.” Hugh spoke softly but he couldn’t keep the despair he felt from his voice.
Annie smiled and it somehow lifted a portion of his worry. “Give him time. We’re all strangers and he has to know he can trust us.”
“I don’t know what’s happened to him,” Grandfather Marshall said. “But it’s obvious he’ll need lots of patient handling.”
Annie smiled at her grandfather. “We have time and patience, don’t we?”
The old man nodded. They turned to Hugh.
He would do everything in his power to give his son whatever he needed. “I have the rest of my life.”
His answer earned him a smile of approval from both of them.
“Feel free to do whatever you need to do.” Annie’s words were kind yet Hugh felt dismissed. As if he was in the way. The words often spoken echoed in his head. You’ll never be enough. He pushed them away. That was his mother speaking and he no longer had to listen to her. Hadn’t needed to since he was twelve when she died of what the preacher said was a broken heart.
Hugh knew it was because his brother, whom his mother loved so completely, had died some months before at age seventeen. Hugh had tried to fill his brother’s shoes but every time he did something he thought would help, Ma had uttered those oft-repeated words. You’ll never be good enough to take his place. He had no pa to voice an opinion contrary to hers.
Annie continued speaking, unaware of the thoughts tangling through Hugh’s mind.
“I’ll prepare supper and make friends with Evan.”
Evan stared at her, his gaze revealing absolutely nothing. As if the boy had shut off all connection with the world.
Anger, pain and sorrow intermingled in Hugh’s heart. Bile burned the back of his throat at how his wee son had been treated. He had to escape before he erupted.
“I’ll be in the office if you need anything.” He fled to the far room leaving the door half-open so he could hear if Evan or Annie required rescuing.
He pulled his sermon notes from the drawer and set them on the desk in front of him but didn’t read a word he had penned.
How could a nineteen-year-old girl from a protective family begin to understand what Evan had been through? He couldn’t help thinking this agreement with Annie was a mistake. The depths of his desperation drove him to prayers that came from the darkest corner of his heart.
* * *
Annie had no idea how to get through to Evan, how to prove to the child she could be trusted. She might have asked Grandfather but he had settled into his armchair by the stove and snored softly.
However, she knew what it felt like to be lost, alone, afraid. She’d felt that way after her mother had died even though she was surrounded by a loving family. When Rudy had left her, she’d known the same feelings, intensified this time because he chose to leave and she’d willingly opened her heart to him despite knowing the pain of loss. She hadn’t felt she could voice her feelings to her family. Even so, she’d received strength and comfort simply by their presence.
What would she have done if she’d been alone? Without family? Or worse, treated poorly? Heavenly Father, heal the hurts of this little boy. Help him learn to trust us. Give me wisdom in comforting him.
She’d have wanted someone to reach out to her, to show they cared, and that she mattered. She could offer that to Evan but she must proceed slowly, letting him set the pace. So she did the only thing she could do at the moment. She talked to him.
“It’s time for me to make supper. What would you like, Evan?”
Not so much as a twitch of interest to indicate he heard.
“Do you like stew?”
Not a flicker.
“Potatoes and gravy?”
Still nothing.
She listed item after item, all the while her hands busy, washing dishes Mrs. Ross had left from lunch and then peeling potatoes. “Bread and gravy?”
The slightest movement of his eye. “Good. Then you shall have it. I’ll make pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans and lots and lots of gravy.” She’d found a generously stocked pantry with jars of canned vegetables and several items of baked goods. Two loaves of bread that appeared to be freshly made. Mrs. Ross had done a good job caring for the preacher. Annie was confident she could do just as well.
She brought out one of the loaves and set it on a cutting board. “How thick do you like your bread?” She placed the knife to indicate a very thin slice. When Evan gave no response, she moved it slightly. Still no response. She widened it so the cut would result in a slice two inches thick.
Evan’s gaze came to hers.
She smiled. Despite whatever had happened to the boy, he wasn’t beyond interest in the things around him. “Too big?” She brought the knife closer to the end of the loaf and paused at a generously thick slice but nothing out of the ordinary. The knife hovered.
Evan