Читать книгу The Cowboy's Baby - Linda Ford - Страница 11

But 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 despicable 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 forgotten 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.