Free Angel of the Cove by Sandra Robbins Page B

waited a moment before she spoke again. “Would you like to help me draw the water?”
    Neither child said anything. They stared at her without blinking.
    Anna grabbed the oak bucket from the dry sink near the back door and stepped outside. The setting sun cast orange and red streaks across the sky, and Anna stopped for a moment to take in the beauty before she walked to the well behind the house.
    A box-like wooden structure, perhaps two feet high and open at the top, rose out of the ground. A bucket dangled above it from a rope that looped around a crossbeam between two upright posts, and a handle for rotating the overhead beam lowered the bucket through a small opening to the water below. Anna wrapped her fingers around the handle and carefully lowered the bucket into the well. As she waited for it to fill, she thought about the two children in the kitchen. She had to think of some way to gain their friendship or her time at the Ferguson farm would prove unbearable.
    Lost in thought, she pulled the bucket back to the surface and had just emptied it into the water pail she’d brought from the house when a man appeared at the entrance of the Fergusons’ barn. She had often thought her brother was tall, but this person would tower over Robert’s six feet. The man’s height wasn’t the only thing that caught her attention. The bulging muscles beneath his shirt gave evidence of great strength.
    His unflinching gaze locked on her, and he plodded toward her. His eyes narrowing, he stopped a few feet away from the well and glanced at the water bucket, then back at her.
    Anna tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t cooperate. She tightened her grip on the water bucket and took a step backward. “Hello. I’m Anna Prentiss.” He didn’t respond. After a moment she took a deep breath and inched back another step. “You may know my Uncle Charles. Doctor Prentiss. He brought me here to help Granny Lawson.”
    â€œI heared ’bout that.” His expression didn’t change, but he nodded. “The livestock’s taken care of.”
    â€œThank you, Mr.…” Anna paused, waiting for him to tell her his name.
    â€œDavis.” He glanced at the cabin and nodded in its direction. “You takin’ care of Laura and her young’uns?’
    â€œY-yes.”
    His large hands hanging at his sides reminded Anna of the hams her father used to hang in the smokehouse. He flexed his fingers and took a step toward her. Her eyes grew wide at the vision of his long fingers clasped around her throat. With a sharp intake of breath she backed away.
    The man stopped and tilted his head to the side. “I was just gonna tote the water to the cabin for you.”
    Anna cast a quick glance over her shoulder. Lucy and Ted huddled together next to the open kitchen door. Fear raced through her. She didn’t know this man. If she let him in the house, she and the children might be at his mercy. She couldn’t take that chance.
    She gripped the handle of the water bucket tighter and backed away. “Thank you. I can manage on my own.”
    â€œSuit yourself.” Without another word, he turned and walked into the field next to the Ferguson house.
    Anna whirled around and ran awkwardly into the house, the full bucket of water clanking and splashing against her knee. Closing the door behind her, she ran to the window and watched the retreating figure head toward the woods. He strode into the distance without a backward glance.
    When he’d disappeared, Anna looked down at the children. Lucy and Ted clung to her apron, their bodies pressed against her. Fear etched their faces. “Do you know that man?” she asked.
    Lucy gazed up at her and nodded. “He lives on the next farm. His name is Cecil Davis. He doesn’t smile like most folks. He scares me.”
    Ted huddled closer to Anna and pressed his head against her arm. “I don’t like him