The Cowboy's Baby (3 page)

Caution kept her from mentioning Colby’s visit.

The quilt was finished. The ladies rolled it and left it for Anna to complete. As they settled in to visit, Anna slipped to the kitchen to prepare the tea.

Her friend Laura followed her. “Baby needs nursing.” She sat in a nearby chair and fed her newborn daughter.

“You look tired.”

“It will take time for the baby to sleep through the night. In the meantime—” She shrugged.

“How is Adam feeling about Gloria?” She wondered if the three-year-old felt pushed out by the demands of his new sister.

“Carl takes Adam with him as much as he can. Adam loves it.” Laura gave Anna a long considering look. “Has he been here?”

Anna knew she meant Colby but she pretended otherwise. “Adam or Carl?”

Laura only laughed. “You know who I mean.”

“He was here.”

“Drunk?”

He hadn’t staggered or slurred his words. Officially she’d have to say he wasn’t drunk. For all that was worth. “Says he’s changed.” She sounded every bit as weary as she felt.

“Has he?”

“How would I know? Saying so doesn’t make it so, does it?”

“What did he want?”

Anna’s gaze slid toward the little girl playing on the floor. “To see her.”

“Only
see
her?” The concern in Laura’s voice matched Anna’s worry.

“That’s all he said but…”

“What are you going to do?”

Anna relaxed and grinned. “Why, I thought I’d hand her over without a word.”

Laura laughed. “And if I believe that you could sell me roosters as laying hens. Is he likely to let it go without a fight? How long do you suppose it will take for him to give up and go away? You know him as well as anyone. What’s your guess?”

How well did she know him?

They’d enjoyed so many good times—wandering down by the river sharing secrets and fears. She’d counted on him for support and understanding but when her whole world had fallen apart and she needed him he’d disappeared. She’d waited for him to come. Her heart ached more with each passing day.

The final bit of bottom had fallen out of her world when she discovered he’d left town. She’d had to deal with the accident on her own.

The memory of it lived forever in her mind, in vivid color and sharp sounds. A wagon skidding on one wheel for what seemed a very long time. The scream of horses. The terrified cries of a woman
with a baby clutched to her chest. She’d watched, powerless to stop the accident. Then in scenes so slow, so detailed she knew she would never erase them from her mind, the wagon hit a rock, flipped skyward, tipped over and landed upside-down. The woman flew through the air, landing with a heart-stopping thud. Then only the wheels moved, turning round and round.

She thought they would never quit.

She’d remained frozen to the spot until warm, demanding arms drew her away.

Her beloved stepmother, Rose, had died. As had baby Timmy.

She sucked in air and pushed away the memory, barring it from her thoughts.

At sixteen she had become a mother to Alex, six years her junior, and she had taken over her father’s household.

And Colby had left. He didn’t come for the funeral. He didn’t come to offer comfort. He didn’t come to share her fears. He returned eighteen months later with a wife soon to have a baby. Nora had died giving birth to Dorrie and Colby had thrust the newborn into Anna’s arms.

She shouldn’t have been surprised when Colby left a second time even though she could blame herself. She told him to leave. What she’d meant was for him to change his ways.

She no longer held out hope of him doing so and with decisiveness, shut her heart against caring, against hurting, and answered Laura’s question. “He’s never been one to stick around when things get difficult.”

“Then I expect he’ll soon be gone again.”

The thought should have been comforting. Instead it sliced through her heart like an out-of-control butcher knife. She turned away lest Laura guess at her turmoil. Why did she still care even after all the pain he’d brought to her life?

Thankfully there wasn’t time to discuss the matter further. Nor mull over silent questions. The ladies waited.

As she served tea and cakes, fourteen-year-old Alex came in from school. She went to the kitchen to speak to him.

“Come and say hello.”

“Do I have to?” He shuddered, headed for the back door and escape, his face alternating between a flush and pallor.

She knew how he struggled with social occasions but he must learn to do what was proper. “Yes, you do. It’s common courtesy.” She wished she could inject Alex with some self-confidence but every effort she made only seemed to cause him to pull back more quickly. She rested a hand lightly on his shoulder and steered him to the parlor where
the ladies enjoyed tea and visiting. “Just say hello and then you can play with Dorrie.”

“’Lo.” It was barely audible and more of a mumble than anything.

She ached for the way he shied away from people, preferring to live with his books and toys. She’d done her best for him but she knew nothing about raising a child.

Rose had married Father when Anna was almost five. Rose had brought joy and love into both Father’s and Anna’s life. After her death, Father had withdrawn into his Bible study.

Not, Anna realized, unlike Alex and his withdrawal from people.

Alex played with Dorrie a few minutes before he sidled up to Anna. “Can I go now?” he whispered.

She nodded.

As he slipped away, Dorrie protested loudly because her favorite playmate had left.

Anna picked up Dorrie to quiet her and realized every eye watched her. They had been talking about her. And decided she needed their helpful, friendly advice. She shifted her gaze to Mrs. Percy, expecting she would be the self-appointed spokeswoman. When Laura reached out and squeezed Anna’s hand, Anna understood she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear.

Mrs. Percy adjusted her posture so she looked
even more imperious than ever, which had always been enough to strike fear into Anna’s heart. “What’s to be done about the cross?”

Anna knew she meant the wooden cross that graced the wall behind the pulpit. It had been badly damaged by the fire. She wondered what the women thought should be done about it.

“We obviously need a new one.” Mrs. Percy spoke as if it had been firmly decided.

She thought of the burned cross and how important it had been in her life. “When you think of how the cross saves us from the flames…” She meant in a spiritual sense but seeing the confusion on the faces of the women around her, she knew they didn’t understand, perhaps thought she meant the cross had somehow stopped the fire from consuming the church.

She didn’t finish her thought but if there were any way possible, she’d salvage the cross. Not because Mr. Steves had been the one to hang it on the wall. Not because it was part of the original decoration, but because of what it meant to her.

But it was not the cross, nor repairs to the church that crowded her mind after the ladies left. It was Mrs. Percy’s report of Colby’s behavior.

He hadn’t changed.

Colby would never be the man she needed and ached for.

She must persuade Father to talk to Colby, make him see the harm his presence was doing and convince him to leave town.

She would talk to Father tonight as soon as Alex and Dorrie were in bed.

B
ut it was the next morning before she got an opportunity to speak to her father. He surprised her with an announcement.

“Father, you didn’t?” She had no right to question Father, but it took all her rigid self-control to keep from revealing the depth of her shock.

“I think it is an excellent idea. It takes care of many problems at the same time.” He nodded as if completely satisfied with his decision and settled before the desk in the front room where he opened his Bible and prepared to turn his thoughts to study.

Anna stared at the contents of the room—the wooden armchair now back to its normal place beside the desk, the small table with a lamp and stack of pleasure books, the brown leather sofa that seemed best suited for decoration rather than
comfort, the bookshelves holding Father’s precious library, the ornately framed daguerreotypes—one of Rose and Father’s wedding and the other of her own mother whom she barely remembered. She saw nothing in the contents of the room to calm her fears.

“How does hiring Colby solve any problems?”

“Isn’t it obvious, dear daughter? He will get the repairs done to the church on time, leaving me to attend to other things. He’ll be close enough to get to know Dorrie.”

Exactly. Close enough to make it impossible to keep him from seeing her. And who knows what he’d want next? How that solved anything, Anna could not begin to understand.

“The young man and I had a good talk. I believe he’s sincere in wanting to change. Who better to help him than us? Isn’t that what the church is for? To provide help for those who need it?” He sent Anna a gently reproving look that brought a flood of guilt to war with her anger and fear.

“Of course but…”

Father smiled gently. “Don’t give up on him. Nor disregard the Lord’s work in his life.”

Tears burned the back of Anna’s eyes. It wasn’t that she didn’t have faith in God and what He could do, but believing in Colby had brought her nothing but pain and disappointment. She could not survive
another shattering experience with him—trusting him, loving him against her best intentions, only to watch him ride away. Or worse, hear after days of waiting and wondering that he’d left town.

“By the way, he’ll be sharing our meals.”

Anna gasped.

Father’s eyes flashed a challenge. “Are we not to show hospitality?”

“Yes, Father.” She knew when to accept the inevitable but how would she cope? “When does he begin?”

“He’s over there as we speak. He’ll join us for lunch.”

Colby hoped Anna would slip over to the church and speak to him. But it was her father who wandered over at lunchtime to invite him to join them. Colby followed across the yard with a mixture of anticipation and dread. No doubt being tossed out of the saloon had been duly reported to her. No one would believe that Colby Bloxham had been defending a helpless old man. They’d think he was drunk and rowdy as he once would have been.

But a stronger, more insistent emotion prevailed. He wanted to sit at the same table as Anna, have a chance to watch her, enjoy the sound of her voice.

He took the place Anna indicated—to the left of
Pastor Caldwell and across from Alex, who rushed in from school to join them. Anna sat opposite her father.

He didn’t miss the fact his plate had been shoved as far away from Anna as possible but it only served to allow him opportunity to study her without the risk of being caught staring. She wore her hair in a roll at the back of her head. Supposed it was more in keeping with her role as the pastor’s homemaker than letting it fall down her back as he remembered—the sun catching in it like gold glinting in a river. He’d already had a chance to see her eyes. Not that he needed any reminder. Light brown. There was a time they would look at him with warmth like a banked fire instead of coal-like coldness he now received.

Anna turned the high chair where Dorrie sat so the baby had her back to him. At Dorrie’s protest he understood his daughter didn’t like it any more than he did. He wanted to be able to study this little scrap of humanity he’d had a part in creating.

He met Anna’s considering look. Saw the challenge in her eyes. Seems every time he tried to be different, something jerked him back to his old ways. But this time he’d run as far as he dared. He’d seen where he could end up.

He pulled his thoughts away from the journey that readied him to return. And away from the des
picable deeds he had done. If Anna heard them…well, he could only hope she wouldn’t.

Anna had often begged him to stop drinking and take a role in raising his daughter. His response had been to hit the trail with a bottle in his hand.

But that was over and he was back.

He felt Alex eyeing him under the shield of his lashes. The boy had grown considerably since Colby last saw him, though he was still small and puny. And lacking in confidence if the way he kept his head down indicated anything. Colby had learned to never duck his head, always fix a man with a bold, defiant stare, but then he supposed Alex didn’t have any of the reasons Colby had for the way he viewed the world.

The strain in Alex’s posture and Anna’s averted eyes scraped along Colby’s nerves, magnified by the way Dorrie fussed because she had to face the stove.

“She ain’t invisible,” he muttered. “I see her fine. She’s got real purty hair.”

Dorrie squirmed, trying to turn around. Then she kicked her heels against the chair legs. It sounded like she said, “Mama, wanna see.” She threw her head back and shrieked.

No mistaking the determination in her voice, tinged with a pout.
That child needs a cuff alongside her ear.

The words bellowed through his head in a voice he recalled from his past—his pa’s. How often had he heard it and felt the blow that followed.

His insides tightened in a familiar response, ready to duck or run and if that failed, to fight back. He forced himself to relax and something unfamiliar in its insistency edged past the words from his past. He wouldn’t run if someone tried to hit that little girl.

He’d left his baby daughter with Anna and her father, knowing they were good, gentle Christian people who, he hoped, would not treat the baby harshly. Yet he knew many good people believed in a strong hand with children. Conquer their spirit. Spare the rod and spoil the child. He understood the need for discipline but he hoped Anna had found a way to do it gently and kindly.

He had no idea how he would handle the situation other than to cuff the child. His nerves remained tense as he watched to see what she would do.

Anna took Dorrie’s hands and spoke gently. “Dorrie, sweetie, you must not speak to Mama like that.” She held the baby’s hands until Dorrie settled down.

The air in Colby’s lungs released in a hot blast. Her kind correction of Dorrie caught him somewhere between his rib cage and his gut. He’d for
gotten how gentle her stepmother had been, even when she felt it necessary to speak to Colby regarding his behavior. In fact, he only now realized she’d been correcting him. Her words were so soft he’d welcomed them. Only other correction he’d had had come by way of Pa’s fists. His insides twisted with remembrance of his pa’s anger. He would not be like his old man. He would never hit that little girl. No matter how angry he got.

The hitting ended with him.

He bent over his plate, forcing himself to concentrate on his food as he pushed aside the bad memories.

Anna was a good cook. A man learned to appreciate fluffy homemade bread, rich brown gravy and a variety of vegetables.

“You do all those bad things they say?”

Colby jerked his head up at Alex’s question. Had news of his activities reached Steveville? Or was it only gossip and speculation? If they heard the whole truth…

“Alex.” Anna kept her voice soft but couldn’t disguise her shock.

“It’s fine.”

Anna’s quick glance said plainly it wasn’t so far as she was concerned, but Colby figured he might as well deal with the spoken and unspoken questions right up-front.

“I don’t know what all folks are saying about me but I did things I shouldn’t have. Things I wish now I hadn’t done. But that’s behind me.”

“God is good. He waits for his sons and daughters to return to Him,” Pastor Caldwell said.

Colby nodded. He and the preacher had had a good talk. Colby had soaked in the words of love and forgiveness the preacher read from God’s word and Colby had chosen to accept God’s forgiveness for his sin, but Colby wasn’t sure he’d go so far as to call himself a child of God. After all, God must have pretty high standards about who could be part of His family.

Dorrie mumbled something softly. He guessed she pleaded to be turned around. He wanted to add his pleas to hers but clearly Anna didn’t care that he ached to see his daughter. Anna’s lack of welcome hurt more than a fist to his face. Not that he would let it deter him. He was back. He had changed. He intended to prove it.

“Very well, seeing as you’ve been so good.” She turned the high chair around.

Anna had always responded positively to gentle prodding. Colby remembered that about her. As clearly as he remembered so many other things.

He stared at Dorrie. She had his dark blond hair and his blue eyes. She had Nora’s mouth and nose. And his directness. She stared unblinkingly at him
and his heart sank to the pit of his stomach where it turned over twice and spun around leaving him struggling to fill his lungs. This was his child. Flesh of his flesh.

“You gonna take her away?” Alex demanded.

Colby noted Anna didn’t correct his curiosity this time.

The pastor leaned forward. “Colby has explained his intentions to me but perhaps—” he faced Colby “—for Alex and Anna’s peace of mind, you could tell them, as well.”

Colby nodded. “I had to make sure she was okay. And I intend to start over right here.”

Anna fixed a look on him. Her expression was composed but, though he guessed she tried, she failed to hide her anger. “Haven’t you done this before?”

“Anna,” her father warned. “He is a guest in our house. I believe he deserves a chance. After all, what would God want us to do?”

Anna ducked her head but not before Colby could understand she didn’t think he deserved another chance.

He had his job cut out proving to her he meant it for real. But now was not the time or place to discuss it. Perhaps if he hung about he might later get a chance to explain things to her.

He turned his attention back to Dorrie. “It’s
amazing to see bits of myself and Nora in her.” Conviction burrowed into his thoughts. He wanted to be part of this child’s life. He wanted to watch her grow and change. He wanted to teach her to channel that boldness he saw in her gaze, use it for good and not ill.

Anna put her arm around Dorrie’s shoulders as if she could shield the child from his stare.

He ducked his head and tried to concentrate on his food. His throat felt thick as he understood her fear that he would take Dorrie from her. He didn’t want to do that. A man alone wasn’t the way to raise a proper little girl. But he did want to be part of Dorrie’s life and he didn’t know how best to do that. Was being in Steveville, proving himself changed, enough? He couldn’t say.

“How do you purpose to begin work at the church?” the pastor asked.

It took a great deal of effort for Colby to force his thoughts to the fire-damaged church. “The first thing I need to do is tear out and burn the damaged wall then begin to rebuild.”

“Father, everyone is expecting the church to be reopened in time for the birthday celebration.” Anna spoke softly, but Colby heard a cautious note in her voice.

Pastor Caldwell explained about the birthday party for the town’s founding father.

“When is it to be?”

“June seventeen.”

“A month away.” Colby considered it a moment, mentally measuring the work to be done. “Shouln’t be a problem to finish by then.” From his quick study of the damage he figured he could finish in ten days or a little more if he really pushed it. He shot a quick glance at Dorrie, shifted his gaze to Anna. Seemed no reason to hurry.

“You’ll burn everything damaged by the fire?” Anna sounded cautious.

He wondered what she wanted but didn’t care to ask directly. “Seems the best thing to do. Why?”

“Just curious.”

Distracted by the way Dorrie continued to stare at him, he let it go. Besides, he figured if Anna didn’t want to tell him what she wanted, he wouldn’t prod it from her. He knew beneath her gentle, patient exterior lay a streak of stubbornness to challenge most mules.

Dorrie lifted one hand toward him. “Da-da.”

Her word slammed through his insides, reverberating against his ribs, resounding inside his head.

Anna gave a short laugh as she grabbed Dorrie’s hands and pushed them to the tray. “She calls every man that. It’s a little embarrassing. Except Father, she calls him poppa. I don’t know how many times
she’s called a perfect stranger da-da. If people didn’t know better they might think…” She trailed off as if realizing she’d been running over at the mouth.

Dorrie flashed him a smile and turned to the pastor. “My poppa.”

Pastor Caldwell chuckled. “My Dorrie. You’re a little minx, aren’t you?”

Dorrie babbled something.

Colby wondered if anyone else understood what she said. He didn’t but he grinned simply because her pleasure was contagious. He shifted his gaze to Anna, wanting to share the moment, but her eyes challenged him so directly his enjoyment deflated.

Anna rightly wondered how his presence affected her role as Dorrie’s mama. She had every reason in the world to wonder if he’d run again at the first sign of trouble.

He was determined he would not. But he would have to prove it.