The Cowboy's Baby

The third man left Arty and marched over to glower into Colby’s eyes. “You think you scare me?”

“Enough that you enlist two more the same as you to even the odds.” He grunted as the man on his right shoved his arm up his back hard enough to tear at his shoulder. “Just you and me. Let’s see how scared you are then.”

The man nodded to his friends. But he didn’t wait for them to release Colby’s arms to sucker punch him in the stomach and, before Colby could get his fists bunched, landed a blow to his nose.

Ignoring the pain and the blood pouring forth, Colby exploded into a fury of fists. He had the man on the floor before the other two grabbed him. They succeeded in dragging him to the door and tossing him out on the street but Colby made them work for their victory.

As he wiped away the blood and scrambled to his feet, several decent folk passed by on the other side bound, no doubt, for some noble event.

“Why, it’s Colby Bloxham.”

“As rowdy as ever, I see.”

A loud sniff and then a pious “Let’s pray he leaves again real soon,” followed.

Colby grabbed his hat and smacked it hard on his head. He’d give it until morning for Anna to hear that Colby had been brawling. He could explain if she’d give him a chance. ’Course she’d given him many chances in the past and he’d mangled each of them. Not much wonder she wasn’t about to throw open the door to welcome him this time.

No point in expecting a chance to explain himself.

He strode away, heading for the camp he’d set up on the edge of town, close enough to the river for ease of water, close enough to the church he could slip over and watch the goings-on, yet not so close as to give anyone cause for concern.

Anna covered the little cakes with clean towels and arranged the fancy teacups on the table. The members of the Ladies Sewing Circle would be arriving any minute. Everything was ready, in precise perfection. She should be calm and serene.

She was not.

Her emotions raged as she filled the kettle. Father had said it was only natural for Colby to want to see how Dorrie was faring. And perhaps he had truly changed. They needed to encourage him in that direction. After all, hadn’t they often prayed he would turn to God to meet the needs of his heart?

Anna couldn’t meet Father’s eyes as he spoke. Some time ago her prayers had shifted from asking for Colby’s redemption to asking that he never return. How would she survive having her heart ripped out and left to whimper and bleed again? And now the threat was twofold. She could also lose Dorrie. She’d said so to Father.

“Did he say he wanted to take her?”

“He asked to see her.”

“Natural enough, as I said. Let’s leave it in God’s loving care.” He’d taken her hand in his and prayed.

But Anna didn’t find the peace and release she’d hoped for. She couldn’t stop wondering what Colby really wanted. She couldn’t stop worrying how his plans could upset her life.

Her teeth ached from continually fighting this inner battle and she forced her jaw to relax. Please, God, put Your mighty hand on his back and send him down the road again.

Such an ache consumed her that she bent over and moaned. Anna, forget the boy you once knew. Colby is no longer that person. Let him go.

Forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand, she filled the cream and sugar then paused to run a hand over her hair, making sure every strand was in place. She’d changed earlier and the white shirtwaist was immaculate as was the black skirt she’d brushed thoroughly. No one could find fault with her appearance.

But if they could see the turmoil of her heart they might have cause to wonder about her suitability to run the pastor’s home.

She pulled herself taller. She needed to trust God. She said the words. She meant them. But she still felt no peace. Would God allow her to experience loss once again? Pain shafted through her, consuming her. Then she pulled her self-control tight as a corset. Whatever lessons God wanted to teach her through her sorrows, she had tried to learn them. She didn’t want the lesson repeated.

Lord, I try to be obedient and do what You would want.

That’s what she needed to concentrate on— trusting and being obedient.

She hurried into the other room where she had pushed back the wooden armchair and moved the little side table to make room to set up the quilting frame. The top was finished and waiting. The ladies had each contributed to the squares for the quilt. Today they would assemble it with batting and backing and tie it. Anna would finish the edging and then present it to the Anderson family, who had lost everything in the fire.

“It’s a mercy no one was killed,” Mrs. Klein said later as the ladies worked on the quilt. The fire still filled their thoughts and conversation.

“God be praised,” Mrs. Berglund said.

“Now we must do our part to help those who lost their home. Thank God we can make this quilt.”

“God be praised,” Mrs. Berglund said.

Anna bent over the quilt, hiding a smile. Mrs. Berglund was a dear soul but so predictable, her comments invariably limited to one or two of her favorite phrases.

“I thought Mrs. Anderson might enjoy helping us with the quilt. Did you ask her to attend?” Mrs. Percy directed her question at Anna.

“I did invite her but she is struggling to cope in the little shack they’re living in. I don’t think she feels up to visiting just yet.” Mrs. Anderson had fluttered her hands and looked about wildly when Anna had gone to visit. Anna couldn’t imagine losing everything and trying to live in a building that hadn’t been intended for human habitation.

“Some of us gathered for tea last night.” Mrs. Percy sat up and looked around at her announcement. She waited until she had everyone’s attention before she continued. “Now that everyone is safely sheltered and resuming their lives, it’s high time, I say, to get the church fixed up so we can meet there.” She sniffed. “I’ve never cared for taking my children to that room above the saloon.”

Anna said nothing as the other women murmured their comments. Certainly it wasn’t ideal, but helping the people who lost their homes and belongings took precedence over fixing the church. She waited, knowing Mrs. Percy had more to say on the subject now that all eyes were on her.

“Pastor Caldwell said he’d look after the repairs but I’ve seen no evidence of it getting done.” She cleared her throat and gave Anna a hard look, driving Anna’s heart to the bottom of her stomach in alarm.

“Remember we agreed to be part of the town’s celebration in honor of Mr. Steves. It’s imperative the repairs are done in time. After all, Mr. Steves donated the money for building the church. We need to remember him for that.”

Anna felt every pair of eyes turn toward her. Though no one spoke she knew what they were all thinking—the same thing as she. Father’s intentions were good but every one jabbing their needles into the quilt knew he tended to get lost in his thoughts and forget such practical things as filling the stove, or closing a window. She couldn’t imagine he would keep his mind on the mundane things such as carpentry and painting long enough to see the task completed in time for the big seventy-fifth birthday party planned for the town’s founder. Why had he agreed to be in charge?

She sat up straight and met each pair of eyes around the quilt, smiling serenely and reassuringly. “I think you can count on Father to get it done in time.” She’d personally see that he did. She’d remind him to arrange the workers needed. Father was a godly man and his concern for others was genuine but he needed help with practical matters. She would provide that help, gently and discreetly, not only because it was her duty as her father’s unofficial assistant as running his household turned out to be, but also because it was plain if the repairs weren’t done she would be found wanting in the eyes of the women seated in her front room.

The others murmured approval and returned to their sewing.

“Mama, Mama, Mama,” Dorrie called.

“Excuse me. I have to get her up from her nap.” Anna hurried to the little girl. Having Colby show up stole from her bliss in having a child she considered her own without benefit of marriage nor condemnation of a child born out of wedlock. Please, God. Send that man on his way. I don’t want Dorrie hurt by the things he does. She knew people would find it easy to blame every naughty thing Dorrie did as evidence she was living up to her heritage. Or rather, down to it. Anna could well imagine Mrs. Percy sniffing and saying, “An apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Although Dorrie wasn’t the only one who could be hurt, she was young and might easily forget Colby wandering into her life and out again.

Anna doubted she would recover as quickly.

She slipped a clean white pinafore over Dorrie’s blue dress and put on her shoes. “There you go. All pretty. Remember the ladies are here so I want you to say hello to them all and then play quietly.” Anna took from the shelf the Noah’s Ark and animals reserved for times when Dorrie had to play quietly at her side.

She returned to the front room and the sewing circle.

Mrs. Percy oohed over Dorrie a minute then turned her sharp gaze toward Anna. “I saw her father last night.”

Anna’s heart dropped to the soles of her feet. Whatever the woman intended to say had the potential to upset Anna’s world.

“In the most shameful state of being tossed from that horrible saloon. I’m not much to pay attention to rumors—”