Authors: Linda Ford
He grinned. “Did you miss me?”
“No and don’t be facetious.”
“I can’t possibly be facetious seeing as I don’t even know what it means.”
“It means silly.”
He tipped his head and smiled.
She wanted to believe it was a teasing, insincere smile but something serious lay behind the blue glitter of his eyes. Something that reached for her heart. Something her heart welcomed. She slammed shut an iron-clad mental door.
“I meant it. I enjoy your playing and singing.”
He spoke in the present tense. Just like the days when he came to the church and listened as she practiced. Not until Rose died did she take over playing in the services. By then she knew the hymns by heart.
“I remember some of the church songs from when I used to come here.”
Did he remember the way their hearts had seemed to beat a common song, finding so many things they both enjoyed, almost able to read each other’s thoughts? Obviously it had meant more to her than him or he wouldn’t have found it so easy to leave.
Why had he bothered to come back?
She fully believed he would leave again. He always left. The peace she had achieved drained out the bottom of her soul, leaving her edgy and unsettled.
“You sing them like they mean something real. I enjoyed it. You play even better than I remember.”
People seldom commented on her playing unless she made a mistake. To hear words of praise melted a layer of her defensiveness.
“I envy you. Your life has always been filled with God’s word, and songs such as these.” Regret seemed to fill the crevices of his face.
His words gave her pause. Did he remember she’d told him God didn’t care where they came from, only whether or not they were willing to allow His love into their lives? Basically, since his return, she’d been denying her belief in that truth and guilt burned through her. But it couldn’t get past the hard shell she’d forged around her emotions. She’d trusted him too often and too easily and she wouldn’t be doing it again.
“Yes, I’ve been blessed. I know that.”
She wasn’t about to dispute the beauty of the hymns, nor discuss the benefits of her upbringing, something else she could not dispute.
It took a concerted effort to pull her gaze away from his, which seemed so endless, so hungry, so—
she jerked her attention to the scarred wall at the back of the platform.
“I’ll get out of your way so you can get to work.” As she hurried to the house she wondered where he’d been when she first entered the church.
It wasn’t until the door closed behind her that she wished she’d confronted him about Dorrie. What were his intentions? Was he about to snatch the child from her? At the idea, she moaned deep inside, beyond sound, beyond reason.
C
olby watched fine people in their fine clothes climb the outside wooden steps to the room above the saloon. He didn’t own a suit or anything remotely like it. He wore the best of what he had— a new white shirt he’d purchased at the mercantile and his best pair of black trousers, brushed clean. But it didn’t seem quite fitting. He felt more like his father’s son than a changed man and fell back into the shadow of the mercantile store as he tried to decide if he would climb the steps or walk away and find something else to do with his time— something more fitting for a Bloxham.
Trouble was—he didn’t know what a Bloxham determined to be different would do on a sunny Sunday morning apart from going to church like all decent people did.
Would the decent folk think he should be in their meeting place? Or would they think he fit better in the room below?
He brushed away a persistent fly and continued to watch people arrive.
A family hurried up the sidewalk, a man with a little boy in his arms and a young woman carrying a baby.
His heart bucked once before he tamed it. Family. Like he and Anna had both dreamed of. Would it ever be possible for him?
The man noticed him and headed over, his hand extended. “Carl Klaus.” He waited for Colby to give his name and when he did, Carl nodded. “Welcome. Why don’t you go up with us?”
His wife came to his side. “I’m Laura, Carl’s wife. These are our children, Adam and Gloria. Perhaps you remember me. I’m Anna’s friend. Have been since we were children.”
Colby nodded a greeting, his hat gripped awkwardly in his fists. He remembered Laura hanging about when he was younger. Never paid her much attention. Guess he never really saw anyone but Anna and her family. They had been his whole world.
He wondered that Laura’s friendship with Anna didn’t make her a little less welcoming.
Wheezy organ music began.
“We better hurry,” Karl said, and Colby allowed himself to be drawn along with the family, up the stairs and into the smoky interior of the room. He should have felt at home in such an atmosphere but his nerves twitched like a gun had been pressed to his spine. He was aware of glances aimed at him, full of doubt or even edged with condemnation. Not that he blamed any of them. He didn’t belong here with these righteous folk. But he meant to start over as a man, and as a believer. And that meant attending church services.
His faith was new and untried, uncertain even, but he had prayed the sinner’s prayer with Pastor Caldwell and he meant it. Soon enough they’d all see.
Colby Bloxham was done with running.
Colby Bloxham was different. Though he figured God might find him a bigger challenge than most.
Caught up in his thoughts, he’d blindly followed Carl and his family to the front row of seats before he realized where he was.
No way would he sit with nothing between him and the preacher. It left him too exposed. Not that he expected anyone could see what lay behind Colby but he wasn’t taking any chances and quickly slid to the chair behind the Klaus family.
Alex already sat in the front row, holding
Dorrie’s hand, and allowed her to edge close to Laura.
Dorrie turned, spotted Colby and flashed him a welcoming grin. His heart stomped over his doubts and headed straight for determination. He wanted to be part of this child’s life. He’d do whatever necessary to gain that position.
He stole a glance about and saw many of the ladies pressed handkerchiefs to their noses. He tested the air, found it full of smoke and fumes from the saloon below—something he wouldn’t have noticed if not for the obvious discomfort of the others.
More proof that Colby Bloxham did not fit here. But he settled down hard. He would learn to be comfortable. Might some day even feel he belonged.
Anna sat at the organ, pumping madly and playing songs he recognized from yesterday. He’d allowed himself only one glimpse at her as he entered the room. Now he ducked his head to study her from under cover of his lashes. So self-contained, so in control. Not at all like the girl he’d known prior to Rose’s death. Would she remember how she’d told him she wondered if she would ever be what she should be and confessed a myriad of fears and what she thought were dreadful sins? How he’d laughed when she’d complained of her
wicked temper. The worst thing she’d ever done was slam her bedroom door. She’d been shocked when he told her the things his old man did in anger.
She’d be equally shocked, if not more so, if she were ever to learn the things Colby had done.
He hoped she never would.
Pastor Caldwell announced the first hymn, bringing Colby gratefully from remembering things he wanted to forget.
He opened the hymnal and as they began to sing, he recognized the song—“Amazing Grace.” Rose sang it often. Said she never got tired of the victory of the words.
Suddenly he missed Rose with an ache that sucked away all his resolve and indifference.
Rose had welcomed him into her home, treating him kindly. She’d touched his shoulder, ruffled his hair. He’d learned not to cringe when she touched him. Even found excuses to invite her gentle gestures. And then she’d died in a stupid senseless accident along with her tiny baby. He’d lost his own mother when she walked away from his old man’s fists. He’d failed to stop her. But it hadn’t hurt near as much as losing Rose.
Overflowing with sorrow, Colby sought Anna’s face. Anna’s loss had been even greater and he’d had nothing to offer her.
Afraid she’d discover the truth of how inadequate he was he’d left.
She met his eyes, their gazes locked as they sang together the words of the hymn. Was she remembering, too, hurting, too? He wanted to do something but again, just as when it happened, he failed to find anything to give.
The song ended and she jerked away to listen to her father, and then another number was given and she flipped the pages of the hymnal and focused on the notes.
Colby turned his attention to the words.
But even though he kept his head down, reading from the hymnal, he heard Anna’s clear voice. Sweetness swept away bits of debris in his heart.
The song service ended and Anna left the organ bench to sit beside Laura, pulling Dorrie to her lap. Dorrie fussed a moment and kicked her little feet. Only because Colby watched so closely did he see Anna flinch.
He cringed, knowing if he’d done that, even as young as Dorrie, his pa would have smacked him hard. He remembered his ears ringing, his eyes smarting from the pain. He understood Dorrie must stop kicking but the thought of someone hitting her, even with a small hand like Anna’s made him want to grab the child from her and run out the door.
Anna simply caught the thrashing feet and held them still until Dorrie settled.
Relief eased away his tension. His shoulders relaxed.
He stilled a jolt of surprise as he realized he had no idea how to be a father without being like his pa and he would sooner ride out into nowhere and camp there until he was old and gray than be that kind of father. He watched Dorrie settle into submission.
He wanted to be what he’d always wanted—a good father—but could he? Or would he fail as he had in the past?
Pastor Caldwell announced his text, “Deuteronomy, Chapter 10, Verse 12, ‘What doth the Lord thy God require of thee, but to fear the Lord thy God, to walk in all His ways, and to love Him, and to serve the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul.’” The pastor closed his thick Bible. In calm, thoughtful tones, Pastor Caldwell spoke about fearing God.
Colby certainly did that. Sort of thought God watched him to see if he would measure up. Colby figured to do his best to meet God’s requirements.
As the pastor closed the meeting, Colby vowed he would do his best to please God and prayed it would be good enough.
And if it wasn’t…
The next day he returned to work on the church, still mulling over the words of the sermon and what his response should be.
Last night he’d read the Bible until it grew too dark to see the words. He was going to change who Colby Bloxham was. According to what he read, God had given him a fresh start and God would help him be a better man.
He figured God had His hands full with that job.
But how to learn to be a father? He hadn’t found an answer for that.
Nor had he found anything he could offer Anna. Maybe he never would. But he was here to stay. Perhaps in time he would discover something she needed that he could give.
He knew the minute she stepped from the house. Could tell by the way she hesitated and fumbled with the basin in her hands she had something specific in mind that involved him.
He knelt at the ragged foot of a stud he had cut out and waited. Pretending—every bit as good as she—that he wasn’t so aware of her presence he couldn’t remember if he’d driven in a spike or not.
She stepped closer, pausing. Out of the corner of his eyes he observed how she glanced back at the house and then seemed to push invisible iron rods down her backbone. He recognized that look and
knew she intended to do business with him— business he suspected they both might find awkward.
She drew close, saw what he was doing and gasped. “What have you done? You were supposed to repair the hole. Instead you’ve made it larger.”
He sat back on his heels. “The fire did more damage than you might think. I’ve had to take most of it down. The basic structure needs repair. Even some ceiling rafters.”
“No one else thought that. You’ll never finish if you keep tearing apart the place.”
Her obvious shock at discovering he might be around longer than she’d originally believed left him cold and lonely. Such a contrast to the pleasant thoughts he’d been enjoying—remembering her singing so sweetly at church, remembering details of walks they’d taken and conversations they’d shared when they were but youngsters.
“You couldn’t see it until you knocked off the plaster. I showed it to your father and he agreed it needed to be done.” He watched her with unblinking patience, waiting for her response, hoping she might regret her initial reaction and voice some word of approval, if not for him then at least for the work he did.
“I thought—I wanted you—”
“You want me gone.” His flat voice revealed
none of his disappointment that she continued to hearken back to him leaving as if it were a given and couldn’t happen soon enough to suit her. “I told you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her eyes practically lit a fire beneath his skin as she glared at him. “I must know what your intentions are regarding Dorrie.”
“I want to be a father to her.”
“What kind of father?”
He steeled himself to hide his own doubts. “The best I can be.” He thought of the way Dorrie’s eyes brightened and how she called him da-da. It didn’t matter that Anna said she called others the same. She would soon learn that Colby was
her
da-da.
“Do you think it’s fair for her to think people can walk in and out of her life? Shouldn’t she be able to trust people to be there for her through good times and bad?”
He slowly put his hammer down, crossed his arms over his chest and faced her squarely. “Say what you mean. That I left her when times were bad.”
Anna nodded. “You did. You thought of no one but yourself.”
It was the farthest thing from the truth but she didn’t look to be in a very receptive mood for explanations. “It was the only way I knew to deal with Nora’s death. I know you tried to tell me about
God’s way but I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t believe it. I guess I wasn’t ready. But I’ve changed. If you don’t believe me then maybe you should at least give me a chance to prove it.”
She stared at him.
“Anna, I thought you believed everyone deserves a chance. I recall how you used to say God didn’t care where we came from, only whether or not we allow His love into our lives.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t you still believe it?”
“Of course I do. I just don’t know if Dorrie should be the one you get to practice on. She needs security and the assurance those she loves will always do what’s best for her.”
“I’m not going to leave. But you’re right about Dorrie. I don’t want to upset her. She’s obviously happy and well cared for.” And disciplined in a way that was foreign to Colby. “I promise you, I won’t take her away without your complete approval.”
Anna’s mouth fell open. She shook her head as if to clear her mind. “How can you make such a promise? You’ll grow fond of her and want to take her when you leave. Or you’ll marry—”
Her words might as well have been edged with razors they cut so deeply. Didn’t she realize he’d only loved one woman in his whole life—her. He hadn’t even loved Nora as he should. They’d mar
ried because they were both wanting someone who could share their problems.
He stopped her before she could go on. “Anna, I am not leaving again. Count on it.”
A dark, haunted look filled her eyes. “I wish I could.” She turned and fled before he could respond.
He stared after her for a long time. Truth was he didn’t know what to say…or think. Her words gave him a sort of hopeless hope. As if she might care a bit about him but didn’t want to.
He finally shook his head and returned to his work.
The pastor said to pray and so he did.
God, I’ve ruined so many things in my life. The good pastor says You will allow me to start over. I fear it’s too late for me and Anna. But if You’re like the pastor says and like I read in the scriptures, maybe You can change things. Make me into what I should be. Give me a chance to win Anna’s love.