The Cowboy's Baby (7 page)

She sniffed—a sound signaling displeasure, and grating up and down his spine.

He tensed, knowing whatever they gained talking before the cross had been taken back.

“I thought you’d be working.”

He nodded as he slowly got to his feet. “I was. Took a break to talk to my friend.” He didn’t know why he felt he had to explain. Knew, too, how useless any excuses were when someone wanted to be mad at you and he knew, despite her quiet demeanor, that she was upset about something. Part of him said to back away, apologize, do whatever necessary to avoid fueling her anger but he’d stopped running from situations either physically or mentally. “Have I done something wrong?”

She blinked as if surprised at his directness. “Of course not.” She stared again at the wall. “I can’t help but worry a little. The work must be done in time for the celebration.”

He knew there had to be more on her mind. “I know that already and it will be done. You can count on it.”

Her nod seemed uncertain.

“Did you want to play the piano? I don’t mind if you do. In fact, I’d kind of enjoy—”

“No. No. I wouldn’t want to distract you from your work.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Really I came to look at the cross again. I’m trying to figure out some way to redeem it.” She headed toward the back.

He began to follow but she waved her hand. “I know where it is. Ignore me.”

He hesitated. Seemed awfully clear she didn’t want his company. And his disappointment was out of proportion. Yet he strained toward the cloakroom, aching to join her, recapture the few inches he thought they’d gained.

A few minutes later, she headed back down the aisle and out the door. “I won’t bother you further.”

He returned to fixing the wall, pounding in nails with two blows, finding release in the way his muscles burned.

Why had she gone over? What had she expected? Maybe to give him a chance to explain more about why he left and why he’d returned with a wife when she thought he loved her.

Instead she found him commiserating with a guy she’d only seen at a distance and even then the smell of booze almost knocked her off her feet. She’d seen the bottle on the bench. Had he been guzzling from it?

Changed indeed!

She fumed at her foolishness at hoping he had.

She fretted at how Colby could hurt Dorrie.

And she fussed about having to cook for the man.

But by the time Father came in for lunch, accompanied by Colby, she had her emotions firmly in hand. She would not allow her heart to rule her head. She would not allow herself to become a woman who couldn’t see a man’s falseness for the silly flutterings of her heart.

Colby smiled. “Hello.”

Her control slid sideways. How could she feel this way about him if he was a scoundrel? How could he look so honest, meet her eyes with such calmness if he only pretended?

Alex slid in, out of breath from running from school. Father waited for him to settle in his chair then said grace. As he passed the biscuits and gravy, he said, “Mrs. Booker’s sister arrived today.”

Anna tried to gather her thoughts. “I should welcome her.”

“That would be very nice.”

There was nothing unusual about his announcing the arrival of visitors, nor of his expectation that she should be the official welcoming committee, yet there was something different about Father. Anna tried to get past her own heart turmoil to assess it but after studying him a moment decided she was mistaken.

As she turned to take the butter, her gaze collided with Colby’s. He didn’t say a word, didn’t do anything more than look at her frankly, openly, but in that look she saw something that filled her with confusion—longing, promise, steadiness? Or was she only letting her own emotions fill her to over-brimming?

The whirlwind of confusion twisted through her as the day progressed, leaving her struggling to deal with the trials of the day. And there seemed to be a generous portion of them.

Dorrie didn’t nap soundly and was irritable upon waking. At supper she didn’t like the soup Anna served and threw her bowl on the floor. Anna scooped the screeching baby from her chair and carried her to the crib.

“Dorrie, you must stay here until you can stop screaming.”

Shrieks followed her back to the kitchen where she cleaned up the mess.

“Anything I can do to help?” Colby asked softly.

His gentle tone almost proved her undoing. She stiffened her spine to keep from wailing and saying,
Yes, you can hold me. You can handle Dorrie’s temper tantrum.

Father answered Colby’s question. “Dorrie exhibits a defiant attitude at times. I’ve found it’s best to leave Anna to deal with it.”

Out of sight as she scrubbed the floor, Anna rolled her eyes. Since Rose’s death Father left the discipline of Alex to Anna. Before that Rose ran the house with order and control. After Dorrie came, it was one more responsibility for Anna, one Father never seemed to notice. Not that she minded. She loved Dorrie like she hadn’t thought possible after watching Rose and Timmy die. In fact, she sat back on her heels momentarily as she considered the revelation, loving Dorrie healed some of the hollowness Anna carried inside her heart after the accident robbed her of her stepmother and baby brother.

She finished cleaning the mess and dumped out the dirty water. She returned to the table but her own food had grown cold and held no appeal as she listened to Dorrie crying.

Colby squeezed her shoulder as he left the table. “Do you want me to talk to her? She might listen to me.” He lowered his voice to a growl. “I can sound quite menacing if I try.”

She suddenly felt better. She’d gladly let someone else tackle Dorrie in her present state. “Go ahead. See what you can do.”

As he went to Dorrie’s room, Anna strained to catch what he said. She couldn’t hear his words but his voice rumbled, not growly and menacing but calming. Dorrie shuddered a sob or two and grew
quiet. Colby talked on for a few minutes. Anna caught only a word or two. Not enough to know what transpired.

She stared as Colby returned, a sobered Dorrie in his arms.

“Dorrie has something to say to you.” He smiled encouragement at his daughter.

“I sorry, Mama.” At the catch in Dorrie’s throat, Anna’s heart almost melted from her chest. She jerked to her feet and kissed Dorrie’s cheek.

“I forgive you, sweetie.” She lifted her gaze and realized how close she was to Colby, close enough to see the silvery flecks in his irises, to see the warmth in his gaze and feel the endless connection between them that had never quite been quenched. It promised endless sunshine.

They’d once shared so many things—from the games they enjoyed to their secret thoughts. And recently they’d shared a love of music and an unspoken love of this child. But it wasn’t enough.

She turned and gathered dishes from the table. For the space of a heartbeat she thought of speaking to Father about her worries but he’d only say a person had to accept people at face value. He despised suspicions and mistrust between people. He would not understand Anna’s need for caution.

But she must be careful. If Colby broke her heart once again she might never recover. She must be strong, not only for her sake, but for Dorrie’s, too. As well as for Alex and Father.

Colby held Dorrie a few minutes longer then set her down. Anna allowed herself a quick glance at him. His smile flooded with love and longing as he watched Dorrie. He looked up, met Anna’s eyes. She felt his expectation, his silent pleading but she couldn’t give the response he sought. The walls she’d constructed around her heart prevented it. As did her experience.

His eyes filled with dark regret. “I best get to work.” He grabbed his hat and rushed outside.

Anna watched long after he’d disappeared from sight, unable to conquer a wish that they could go back in time.

It was impossible to recapture what they’d had. Yet… Her heart swelled with “what-ifs” and “if onlys.”

Enough.

She grabbed dishes and plunged them into hot water, scouring them so hard it surprised her she didn’t break something. Her efforts did nothing to ease the storm raging within her heart.

Later, after Alex returned from school, Anna mixed up a cake. She checked the oven. It wasn’t
hot enough. She reached for the coal pail. Empty. Alex’s after-school chores included filling it.

“Alex?”

He didn’t answer. Where had he gone?

A
nna checked each room in the house, calling her brother’s name but didn’t find him. Where was he? He never wandered away without letting her know. Finally she glanced out the window what she saw made her knees buckle. She grabbed the cupboard for support and sucked in a gulp of air that stuck partway to her lungs. Ignoring her shaky limbs, she raced out the door. “Alex, get down from there this very instant.” She paused, picturing him coming from the roof in a tumbling fall. “Use the ladder and be careful.”

Alex lifted his head but other than that made no move toward obeying. “I’m helping Colby pull off the burned shingles.”

“I don’t want you on the roof. You might fall.”

“He’s perfectly safe.” Colby’s look was steady, reassuring.

But she was not reassured and sent him a glare meant to scald him. “How dare you put him at risk.”

Colby’s gaze remained steady, solid. “I wouldn’t.”

She pressed her palm to her chest, massaging the tightness that refused to let go. “He might get hurt.”

“Anna, believe me, I wouldn’t let that happen.”

She desperately sucked in air, which did nothing to relieve the tension in her chest. “You can’t guarantee that. No one can. Accidents happen. It’s best not to take chances.”

He studied her with unblinking concentration, his gaze going on and on, past the brittleness stinging in her eyes, straight toward the fear surrounding her soul.

She averted her eyes, afraid of exposure, and looked at Alex but couldn’t bear the sight of him perched so nonchalantly on the roof. Instead, she glanced at the bare studs of the back wall. A shiver raced across her shoulders. So many things could happen—accidents, fires—

“Are you planning to wrap him in cotton wool and keep him so close he can’t breathe just to make sure he doesn’t face risks?” Colby had come down from the roof and stood two feet away. He kept his voice low, meant for her ears only.

“What do you know about dealing with bad
things? Seems to me you drown your sorrows so you can’t feel or else you run. I don’t have those sort of options nor would I take them if I did.” She gasped at the accusations she had spewed at him. “I’m sorry. I should not have spoken so hastily.”

“You spoke the truth. I don’t deny it.” His voice was harsh as if he wished he could. “But I’m back. To stay.” He lowered his voice. “But we were talking about Alex. Anna, you can’t protect him from life. You need to let him grow up.”

“He’s only fourteen.” Even as she spoke she knew Alex should be more mature than he was. But she didn’t know how she could make him grow up. Didn’t it happen in its own good time?

“I was on my own by his age.”

“He has nothing to make him run away from home.”

“I appreciate that.”

She nodded and turned to again order Alex from the roof.

Colby touched her shoulder, causing every nerve in her body to tremble. “Anna, what about your faith? Doesn’t it teach you to trust God with the things that come into our lives?”

Red-hot flashes burst across her eyesight. She blinked, fearing another fire but the flames were inside her and posed no threat to anyone but Colby. “How dare you lecture me on faith?”

His eyes turned stormy-blue. “I am not lecturing, merely pointing out that life involves risks and faith should make us able to face them without fear.”

The truth of his words drilled through her head. Her faith should be stronger. Her faith was her only defense. If she neglected to honor it, what protection did she have from disaster? “You’re right, of course. I must trust God to take care of me and those I love.”

He nodded, his eyes still filled with uncertainty as if he expected something different from her.

“Like I told you, He sustained me through the loss of Rose and Timmy. He upheld me when you—” She stopped. She would not confess how her world had crashed when he came back with a wife. Or when he’d left again. He must never know that she still loved him in some forbidden corner of her heart that she had barricaded.

“When I what?”

She avoided meeting his gaze, afraid he would read the truth in her eyes—her pain, her love. “You left me to raise Dorrie.”

“It was the best thing I could do at the time. I wasn’t ready to be a father.”

If he meant that to give her reassurance…

Did he think he was ready to father Dorrie now?

And if so, where did that leave Anna?

But she couldn’t deal with the possibility he might take her away, and she forced her thoughts back to Alex.

Colby struggled with his feelings. Was he ready to be a father now? This afternoon he had successfully dealt with Dorrie in a gentle manner even though she kicked and screamed when he approached her. He had not resorted to his father’s methods. It felt good. And right. But it was only one time. Could he do it day in and day out?

He didn’t know. But he knew one thing. He was through with running. He intended to stay right here and be as involved in Dorrie’s life as he could without putting her at risk.

In the meantime, he had a church to repair.

He glanced toward Alex who continued to pull out damaged shingles, oblivious to the drama on the ground below him. The boy—almost man— needed to cut the apron strings both he and his sister clung to. “What about Alex?”

By the way her eyes darkened and narrowed, he knew she struggled with her need to keep Alex safe and her desire to prove she had enough faith.

How much faith was enough? He didn’t know. It was a question he’d have to ask Pastor Caldwell.

Fear and caution seemed about to win the battle in her mind. “I don’t want him on the roof.
It’s too dangerous.” She called Alex and again told him to get down.

Alex glanced at Colby, seeming to want his approval.

“How about you burn the lot?” Colby said.

“Sure.”

Colby felt Anna gasp as Alex scampered down the ladder to grab the wheelbarrow and race it over to the smoldering pile. The flames lick higher as he tossed on bits of wood.

She pressed her palm against her breastbone as she watched the flames. “I will never see a fire without remembering the fear of seeing homes engulfed and waiting, praying, fully expecting to see our home go.” She swallowed hard.

Colby ached to comfort her. He thought of pulling her into his arms and holding her until her fears subsided, but she stiffened if he so much as brushed her hand. Yet his need to help her could scarcely be bottled up. “I heard how the good Lord spared the church and your house.” He bravely touched her elbow. “Seems God protected you.”

She turned her gaze to him, the flames still flickering in her irises. “But why us and not the others?”

He tried to think of an answer but he was no preacher and he was distracted by the warmth of her arm beneath the fabric of her sleeve, and even more than that—the way his blood gathered up the
glow where they connected and fired it all the way to his heart to throw fresh fuel on the flame of their past. He wanted to rekindle what they had once had.

Or did he want to take the embers from the past and start something new? The latter, he realized with all his heart. Something new, something fresh and powerful.
Please God, give me another chance.

But how many chances did God give a person? Colby knew he’d had more than his fair share. Making it back to Steveville without detection or interference might have used up the last of his chances. He pushed his thoughts back to the subject at hand.

“He’ll be careful. I’ll make sure of it.”

She held his gaze. Slowly, her eyes cleared and her fears seemed to subside.

He smiled, relieved she chose to trust him with her little brother. Given time, perhaps he could prove she could trust him with her heart.

A little later, he hurried over for supper, eager to see if anything between them had changed, if the tiny crack he’d seen had widened.

Dorrie babbled a greeting when Colby walked into the kitchen. She waved her hands as she talked and pointed toward the table.

“Sorry, little gal. I don’t understand you.” Apart from the sweet words of da-da.

Anna picked up Dorrie and settled her in the
high chair. “We don’t understand most of what she says, either.” The smile she gave Dorrie trembled when she glanced at Colby.

He sensed her hesitation, as if she couldn’t decide if their feelings should be allowed to progress or not. He smiled. He had all the time in the world to prove she could trust him.

She served the meal then toyed with her very tasty brown beans and corn bread as if they had no more flavor than chalk.

“These are delicious, Anna. You’re an excellent cook.”

She looked at him then, her eyes wide as if his words surprised her. And he saw something more, a flash of pleasure at his praise. Her eyes brightened. Her mouth curved sweetly. “Thank you.” Her gaze lingered no longer than a heartbeat but in that brief encounter he saw something he cherished— an acknowledgment of something warm and sweet between them.

He grinned, happy he’d managed to bring a smile to her lips. Even happier because of what he’d seen—she felt something toward him though she might not be willing to admit it yet.

He enjoyed the rest of the meal even though Anna’s gaze darted away from him each time he looked her direction. Her actions only made it plainer that she had feelings for him but they fright
ened her. He silently promised he’d never again give her reason to fear opening her heart to him.

In the next few days, Alex found excuses to check on Colby and offer help if the work interested him. He sauntered over again as Colby prepared pieces of lumber to fix the roof. “Whatcha’ doing?”

Colby explained how he had to repair the structure. “Want to help?”

Alex gave the lengths of lumber a dubious look. “Is it hard?”

“I wouldn’t think it would be for a boy your size.” He’d already noticed Alex avoided anything challenging. “Besides, hard work builds muscles.” He had his sleeves rolled past his elbows. He shoved one higher and flexed his biceps to show Alex. “I’ve been working hard since I was twelve. And it hasn’t done me any harm. Isn’t that about your age?”

Alex shoved his hands behind his back as if ashamed of his lack of muscle. “I’m fourteen.”

“Only one way to get muscles—build ’em with use.”

Alex hesitated about ten seconds. “What do you want me to do?”

“I’m going up the ladder. You hand me these one at a time.” It wasn’t hard work. A six-year-old
could handle most of it. “It will save me a pile of time not having to run up and down.”

Alex did as Colby suggested. When the boards were all up top, Alex climbed the ladder and started to join him.

“I don’t think Anna wants you up here.”

“Yeah, she’ll get mad if I get on the roof.”

“Anna gets mad?” Did she still struggle with a temper that made her slam doors? “I don’t believe it.” She always seemed so calm and in control. “What does she do?”

“She tweaks my ear.”

Colby choked back a laugh at the injured tone in Alex’s voice. Little did he know how innocent a tweak on the ear sounded to Colby and what a mercy that was the worst Alex experienced.

Until he’d found his way to this family he had no idea how gentle life could be. He’d wanted a share of it. Had found it for a time. He’d left for what he figured were pretty good reasons. But no matter how far he went, how bad he was, how hard he drank, how loud he roared, he could never get away from wanting that sort of family, and the belonging he’d experienced nowhere else but here. Even if Anna never let him back into her life, at least Dorrie was in the sort of family he ached for. He consoled himself with that fact. “You can hand me nails as I need them.”

He and Alex worked in companionable silence as he nailed the new pieces into place.

A door opened and closed next door.

Alex groaned. “I forgot I’m supposed to be getting Anna coal.”

“Run along and do it. And if you’ve caused her any inconvenience, the manly thing would be to apologize.”

“I will.” He raced off to the coal shed.

Colby returned his attention to roof repairs. Suddenly he got the feeling someone watched him. He sat back to check the surroundings and stared straight into Anna’s face—just inches away at the edge of the roof. His heart burned up his throat and he reached to steady the ladder. “You shouldn’t be up here.”

“Why not? Didn’t you say it was perfectly safe?”

“Yes. No.” For a man. Not a woman. Especially not a woman who owned a large portion of his heart.

The past few days there existed a tension between them—a not unpleasant sense of anticipation, as if things were about to change.

He prayed it was so.

“Are you here to help?” He sounded as doubtful as he felt. This was not her work. She had her hands more than full running her father’s home. That gave him pause. Would she ever be able to leave? What would happen to Alex if she did? He chomped down hard, not liking the questions he’d raised.

She laughed. “I don’t think you need my kind of help. No, I’m here to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For what you’re doing with Alex.”

He shuffled about to sit cross-legged so he could face her and sought for the right words to say. A few days ago, she didn’t want Alex helping him, feared he might come to harm. But in that short time, she’d changed her mind. Now she was grateful. It was a bigger beginning than he could have thought possible. “Anna, I don’t deny I’ve given you plenty of reason to doubt me in the past. But I vow by everything I care about that I’ve changed.” It wasn’t only his determination that made his words true. It was what God was doing. “You can trust me. You can trust God to help me.” His voice grew deeper as he risked speaking his desires. “You and I could be friends again.”

Caution darkened her eyes.

His chest tightened as though someone squeezed him hard. He shouldn’t have said anything. It was too soon.

She tipped her head, squinting against the brightness and searched his gaze. Some hair had fallen from her usual roll and the breeze tugged it across her cheeks.

Resisting an urge to capture the wayward strands and tuck them behind her ear, Colby held
still, let her delve deep into the peaks and valleys and secret places of his soul.