The Cowboy's Baby (8 page)

With a deep sigh, she lowered her eyes.

He felt both seared by a hot sun and watered by a gentle rain.

“We’ll see.” She started down the ladder and paused. “Again, thanks for helping Alex.”

Anna’s thoughts tangled inside her head.

How could they be friends if she didn’t trust him? A portion of her wanted to. Another portion warned her to remember his past. What did she want to believe?

She heard the answer deep inside her and it frightened her. She wanted to believe he was different. She wanted to believe he planned to be part of Dorrie’s life. A part of hers. Knowing she could so easily switch back and forth from mistrusting Colby to actually enjoying his company and wanting to be friends, caused Anna to lose an hour or more of sleep.

Pain grabbed her heart in a cruel fist and gave it a vicious twist as she remembered watching Rose and baby Timmy die. In that moment she knew she would never again let herself care about someone who might be snatched from her, or who might leave her like Colby had a habit of doing.

If only she could discuss her problems with
Rose. But she hadn’t had that privilege in four years. She gave a frustrated sound—half sigh, half moan. How could she be so confused?

Next morning, as soon as she finished cleaning the kitchen, she told Father, “I’m going to visit Laura.” She had to talk to someone. Perhaps Laura would have some good advice. After all she was now a married woman with children of her own.

Over tea, she and Laura discussed how baby Gloria had grown. “She slept through the night Saturday.”

“Seems only yesterday Dorrie was that small.” Her fears and worries rushed from their hiding spot in the back of her mind where she pushed them daily and tried to pretend they didn’t exist. “Laura, what will I do if Colby tries to get her back?” It wasn’t the subject she really wanted to discuss but she feared talk about her mixed-up feelings for Colby would only make Laura think she was weak and fickle.

“Is that what he wants?”

“He said I was doing a good job of raising her. He
said
he didn’t intend to take her away.” Unless Anna gave her full approval and she couldn’t see that happening. She loved the child as her own.

“You don’t believe him?” Laura rocked baby Gloria as they talked.

Anna turned her teacup round and round and tried to find words to express her tangled thoughts.
“I want to believe him. But I don’t know what to think.”

“Anna, what’s really bothering you?”

“I…I can’t seem to decide what to think of him. Sometimes I want to believe he is as good as he seems.” Slowly, hesitantly, her feelings almost too fragile to voice, she told how he worked with Alex and how he’d helped with Dorrie. “We have even enjoyed playing music together but—”

“What worries you?”

“I don’t want to start trusting him only to have him walk away again.”

Laura paused to lay the baby in her cradle. She refilled their teacups and took her seat again before she answered. “Anna, are you beginning to care for Colby in a special way? Is that what frightens you?”

“I—” She gulped as her mind stung with so many things she didn’t want to face—her need for more than what she had, her fears at things changing. She was comfortable with who she was, what she had. She liked her security. She wanted to give the same security to Dorrie. “I don’t want anything to change.”

Laura smiled. “Anna, things must change. Alex is almost grown. He’ll be wanting to do things away from home soon.”

Anna thought of how eager her brother seemed to
help Colby. Was it only the beginning of Alex leaving?

She didn’t want to think about it. If she could she would pull Alex close and keep him there.

“Dorrie will go to school. And before you know it, she’ll be wanting to marry and start her own family.”

Anna chuckled looking at Dorrie babbling away as she played with a doll Laura gave her. “She can barely walk and her vocabulary is limited to half a dozen words. I hope she isn’t thinking marriage already.”

Laura laughed, too. “Not yet, of course, and hopefully not for a long time but my point is things are going to change whether you want them to or not.”

“I wish they wouldn’t.”

“But life can’t stand still. Anna, my dear friend, I have known you a long time. I’ve watched you cope with tragedies and challenges that would knock most of us to the ground. But it seems to me that you’ve wrapped life around you in a tight little ball. Isn’t it time you let go and let God bring something new into your life?”

Anna squeezed her hands into fists. The idea of change frightened her. In her experience change hadn’t proven to be a good thing. “I don’t think I can handle it.”

Laura laughed until her eyes watered. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed to get out between chuckles. “This from a young woman who has handled more in the past few years than most of us handle in a lifetime, God willing.”

“I only did what I had to do.” Shaking with uncertainty and doubting her ability every step of the way. “And only with God’s help.”

“Will God help any less in the future?”

Laura’s soft words smoothed Anna’s concerns. “It would be different if I knew I could truly trust Colby.”

“I wish it weren’t so but people can’t always be trusted. All I can say is take your time. Be cautious. And trust God to show you the way.”

As Anna returned home she thought of Laura’s advice.
Take your time. Trust God. Be cautious.

Did that mean she should avoid Colby? Or explore their relationship? She didn’t know but when Father handed her the list of hymns at supper, a thrill of expectation raced through her and she stole a look at Colby. “I’ll practice them tonight,” she murmured. Neither of them needed to speak to know they would play the hymns together.

As soon as Dorrie was asleep, she slipped over to the church. The room was warm from the afternoon sun. Dust drifted in the air accompanied by
the cedar scent of newly sawn lumber. She didn’t see Colby and could not deny the way her heart dipped with disappointment.

C
olby heard her enter as he sat cross-legged in front of the cross where he’d been for some time, thinking and praying. He could understand why Anna felt the cross was so special. He, too, found it easier to direct his thoughts heavenward as he sat there.

“Anna, I’m in here.” He waited for her to join him, sensing a calmness in this place that made it easier to speak honestly without fears and doubts getting in the way.

He turned as she slipped into the room and at the eager look on her face, his heart took off like a wild horse. He wondered it didn’t leap from his chest. She cared. Lifting a hand he reached for her. “Come and sit beside me.”

She hesitated only fractionally before she took
his hand and let him draw her to his side. She sat close enough he barely had to shift for their shoulders to brush. When she didn’t make any effort to move, his heart settled into a steady gallop.

“I was sitting here praying. And remembering.”

“Remembering? What sort of things.”

A smile started deep in his heart and slowly spread to his lips, rounding his cheeks and filling his eyes. “You and me.”

She lowered her head and studied her hands curled in her lap.

He felt her uncertainty as forcefully as if she’d pressed her palms to his chest and held him at bay. But there were things that needed to be said, things worth keeping despite all that had come after. “Remember the first time you baked bread?”

Her head came up then, surprise swathing her features. And then she whooped with laughter. “That’s your top memory? What a disaster. I had to bury it in the garden.”

He chuckled. “Several weeks later the Kleins’ dog dug it up and dragged it all over town. No one could figure out what he had.”

“Rose knew but she never let on.”

“It was a lot of fun.”

“More like embarrassing. Do you know how I dreaded that someone would figure out what it was and that I was responsible?”

He reached for her hand. Again, she let him. He examined her long fingers, turned the palms upward to see little scars where she’d nicked herself with a knife and hard little calluses at the base of each finger—evidence of how hard she worked.

The air between them was fragile with hopes and expectations.

Slowly she withdrew her hand. “Colby, what brought you back?”

Her whispered words strummed through his heart. He ached to tell her the whole truth but he couldn’t.

If she knew…

If anyone found out…

“I didn’t like what I was becoming.”

“What?”

“My old man.”

Something flared in her eyes. Something he took for compassion, maybe even hope. And she claimed his hand, gently squeezing it.

Her touch raced straight to his heart and grabbed it.

“Is that why you run? Because you think you’ll be like your father?”

He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles as he studied their joined hands and considered her question. Why did he leave when Rose died? What was he afraid of? Why did he leave again when Nora
died? What filled his heart with such dread that he had jumped on his horse and rode straight into the jaws of trouble in the hopes of cauterizing his thoughts?

Anna waited patiently, insistently. She deserved some sort of answer even if he didn’t have one.

“I knew I couldn’t be what you needed.”

She gave his hand a brisk shake. “What did you think I needed?”

He didn’t know. He shrugged.

“So what’s different now?”

The question caught him squarely between the eyes and he grunted. Had anything changed? Had he changed? “Maybe nothing. I only know I’m through running.”

She studied him for a long moment, looking past his words, past his own doubts and questions, straight to the depths of his heart.

He hardly dared breathe as he faltered between letting her see all his secret inner places and the need to shelter them. Slowly, under her intense study, he opened himself to her, all except for one corner, which he barred behind thick doors.

She must never know.

Finally, she nodded as if satisfied. “God’s hand has been on you since the first day you rode into Steveville.”

Yes. She accepted he was changed, that he was
through running. He wanted to leap up and shout to the heavens his joy. Instead he grinned until his ears wriggled in protest.

She pushed to her feet. “I need to practice the hymns.”

“Mind if I join you?”

The look she sent over her shoulder gave him even more joy. “Hoped you would.”

Colby smiled as he measured boards to fit the wall. Playing music with Anna last night had been especially happy as they shared a new understanding. He felt as if she had opened her heart and welcomed him. Just a bit. Still tenuous. But progress.

He heard a shuffling in the entryway and went to investigate. He found Slink and Luke, another old buddy. Luke had obviously tried to polish his appearance. His old woolen pants had been brushed until only a few flecks of straw remained. He’d slicked back his hair and tried to shave though from the number of nicks Colby guessed he needed to sharpen his razor. Or steady his hand. He twisted a battered bowler hat in his fingers.

“Slink here said you know something about God.”

“I tried to tell him what you said but I got it all mixed up.” Slink’s face wrinkled in concern.

“So we thought best we come and ask you to tell us.”

“Glad to.” He led the men inside and explained what he knew.

A blast of sunlight filled the room as the back door opened. Facing the glare he couldn’t make out who stood in the doorway.

Then the door clicked closed and Anna stood blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer interior. “Colby?”

His heart did a rat-ta-tat against his ribs at the sound of his name on her lips. “Over here.”

She walked toward him, saw his friends and hesitated. “You’ve got…company.”

“My friends Slink and Luke. Miss Caldwell,” he said to the men. Slink had already jerked to his feet and backed away but Luke rose and nodded formally.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

Anna tipped her head in acknowledgment but retreated so fast Colby wondered she didn’t trip and fall on her rear.

“Did you want something?” he called after her.

“No. Nothing.” She ducked out so quickly he could almost believe she’d never been there.

He stared at the dark wood of the door. What had she wanted? Maybe only to spend time with him. The idea filled him with sweet hope.

Slink wouldn’t stay after that.

Colby went to the door with the men. “Feel free to come back anytime.”

Anna watched out the window as evening shadows pooled between the house and church. She knew she had turned into a spy, but she couldn’t help it. The first time she’d discovered those strange men dropping into the church, she’d been shocked, dismayed even. But when it continued day after day, she grew suspicious. These were the friends she’d seen Colby with after his wife died. Drunk and disorderly for the most part.

Could he be toying with the idea of leaving again?

She hated to be suspicious of him. Especially when every day she found something more she liked about the man.

She liked the way he seemed to know how to play with Dorrie—gentle but not babyish stuff. Even though Dorrie’s speech was little more than a babble she understood what was said to her. He talked to the child with real words.

The other day he brought her a little puzzle he’d made from wood scraps. Anna wanted to say Dorrie was far too young for such games but she held her tongue and waited to see how he would handle his child.

“Look, Dorrie. A puzzle.”

Dorrie babbled excitedly.

Anna laughed. “A whole paragraph that we don’t understand.”

Colby grinned. “I know what she said. She said, ‘Thanks, Da-da. It’s the best puzzle I ever got. Now show me how to make it.’”

Anna shook her head. “Seems you both have a good imagination.”

“We understand each other.”

A quiver of fear trembled through Anna. She suppressed a desire to grab Dorrie, whisk her into the bedroom and lock the door behind them.

Colby’s presence threatened Dorrie’s security even more than it threatened Anna’s.

She did not want either of them to be hurt.

“That’s my girl.”

His words pulled Anna from her thoughts. Under his supervision, Dorrie had pushed together the few puzzle pieces. He seemed as pleased as she was at her success.

Colby’s head bent close to Dorrie’s. Dorrie’s hair was lighter but no doubt would darken to the same color as Colby’s. They looked at each other, grinning widely, and Anna could not deny the similarity in their facial features any more than she could deny that Dorrie thrived with Colby’s attention.

So did Alex. He seemed to have grown six inches and gained a self-confident stride after helping Colby with the church repairs. She liked the way he had managed to get Alex to hold his head up and speak directly to him.

Take your time. Be cautious.

Anna had turned away, pretending to be busy at the stove. Was it too late to be cautious? She couldn’t deny she liked the way he smiled so readily and laughed so often. Seems her heart had gone it’s own way.

She liked sharing her love of music with someone—someone whose eyes flashed blue depths when their gazes connected.

How could she feel this way toward him and yet still be full of suspicion? One day she felt close to him as if they had recaptured the earlier days of their relationship. The next moment she knotted up with fear and mistrust. She trusted God. Colby insisted that meant trusting God was working in his life. Could she do both? She didn’t know.

On top of that, she worried what his presence meant to her role as Dorrie’s mama.

She tightened her lips. Her own security felt a little shaky, too, when she considered her reactions to the man.

Anna had vowed to stay away from the church when he was working but to be completely honest, she’d hoped for another satisfying evening of music with Colby.

Instead, she watched as two pairs of tough-looking men slipped into the church. She glanced
over her shoulder, wondering if she should alert Father, then she dismissed the idea completely. Father would say the church was open to the public. Anyone was welcome to go in and pray and meditate.

But were they doing that? Or tempting Colby to his old way of life?

She sighed heavily. Suspicion and selfish longing for a repeat of the kind of connection she’d felt a few nights ago twisted like sheets left too long on the clothesline. How was it possible to feel such conflicting emotions at the same time?

She turned from the window. But almost immediately returned to it. If those men left soon she could still hurry over before Colby departed.

As if her thoughts had prodded them, the men crowded out the front door, paused to speak to Colby again then shuffled down the sidewalk talking together.

She waited until they were out of sight.

Suddenly she didn’t care about music. She wanted to find out what was going on with those men. “I’m going to the church,” she called to Father and rushed across the yard.

Before she reached the door, she heard the sound of Colby playing the mouth organ and faltered as her heart and mind warred with one another. Pushing aside the way the music filled her with mem
ories of shared pleasures, she cranked her spine into stiff attention and marched into the building.

Colby stopped playing and grinned at her.

She cranked her spine a notch firmer. Not even his smile of welcome must be allowed to divert her. “Colby, what were those men doing here?”

He slowly lowered his hands to his lap as his smile fled. “You object?”

“Depends on why they’re here.”

“You think they’re up to no good?”

She waggled her hands. “Is it so hard to just tell me?”

He shrugged. “Seems to me you’re judging without cause.”

“I just want to know.”

“When are you going to learn to trust me?”

Trust.
Dear God, how I want to. And yet how afraid I am he’s going to leave again.
She narrowed her eyes and stared hard at him, revealing nothing of her errant feelings. “When I can be sure it’s safe to.”

He nodded slowly and repeatedly. “You mean when you can be sure there are no risks. Well, I can’t promise you that. No one can. Did Rose promise she would be here forever? She didn’t have a say in it, did she?”

Pain spun through her and erupted in a cry. “How dare you compare yourself with Rose?”

“I’m not. But isn’t that where our suspicions and failures started?”

“You left. That’s where they began.”

“I’m sorry. I had nothing to offer you.”

“All I wanted was someone to hold my hand. Be my friend.” The ache she’d denied since he’d left consumed her. It swept away reason and caution in its relentless invasion. “I waited for you to come. Then I waited for you to come back. When you did, you brought a wife.” It took the last trembling remnants of her self-control to clamp her mouth shut so she wouldn’t say more.

He stared past her. “I thought you knew.”

“What?”

“I didn’t love her.”

She gasped. “What a dreadful thing to say.”

“She knew it. We didn’t marry out of love.”

“Then why?”

“Because we found comfort in sharing our circumstances. She was under the guardianship of an uncle who confined her to the back room and worked her like a mule.” Slowly he brought his gaze back to her and she read the pain, the confusion, the desperation that almost made her cry out again. “Besides, don’t you see? It was the ultimate form of running away.”

Pain scorched every breath, every pore of her that he would marry someone he didn’t love to
what—escape her? “Why?” she whispered. “Why did you have to protect yourself against me?”

“It wasn’t you. It was me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Me, either. But all I can say is I’ve reached the end of my running. I am back to stay.”

His words promised things she wanted but they barely scratched the surface of her defensiveness. He said it was because of him but it was her that had been hurt. She could not comprehend.