The Cowboy's Baby

Anna steeled her expression to remain kind and calm, displaying none of the disbelief she felt at the woman’s assurances, nor her fear of what more would follow.

Mrs. Percy continued. “But it seems whenever I hear the name Colby Bloxham it comes in the same sentence as robbery, plunder or other illegal activity.” She sniffed and pasted on a pitying expression. “I wouldn’t be surprised to see a wanted poster with his likeness on it.”

Anna wanted to cry out a protest. But why should she want to defend him? The man had gone from bad to worse. Her only concern was to protect Dorrie from the ugliness of such speculation.

Thankfully, Dorrie was too young for the discussion to affect her. But how long before the unkind words would sear her little heart like a hot branding iron. As it did Anna’s. How shocked Mrs. Percy would be to discover the secret, impossible longing of Anna’s heart.

“I expect he’ll be visiting here soon.”

Anna ducked her head rather than face the woman and try and guess what she meant by that statement. Everyone knew she and Colby had been friends at one time. Before he had left her to cope with her sorrow on her own.

Just as everyone knew he was Dorrie’s father.

Caution kept her from mentioning Colby’s visit.

The quilt was finished. The ladies rolled it and left it for Anna to complete. As they settled in to visit, Anna slipped to the kitchen to prepare the tea.

Her friend Laura followed her. “Baby needs nursing.” She sat in a nearby chair and fed her newborn daughter.

“You look tired.”

“It will take time for the baby to sleep through the night. In the meantime—” She shrugged.

“How is Adam feeling about Gloria?” She wondered if the three-year-old felt pushed out by the demands of his new sister.

“Carl takes Adam with him as much as he can. Adam loves it.” Laura gave Anna a long considering look. “Has he been here?”

Anna knew she meant Colby but she pretended otherwise. “Adam or Carl?”

Laura only laughed. “You know who I mean.”

“He was here.”

“Drunk?”

He hadn’t staggered or slurred his words. Officially she’d have to say he wasn’t drunk. For all that was worth. “Says he’s changed.” She sounded every bit as weary as she felt.

“Has he?”

“How would I know? Saying so doesn’t make it so, does it?”

“What did he want?”

Anna’s gaze slid toward the little girl playing on the floor. “To see her.”

“Only see her?” The concern in Laura’s voice matched Anna’s worry.

“That’s all he said but…”

“What are you going to do?”

Anna relaxed and grinned. “Why, I thought I’d hand her over without a word.”

Laura laughed. “And if I believe that you could sell me roosters as laying hens. Is he likely to let it go without a fight? How long do you suppose it will take for him to give up and go away? You know him as well as anyone. What’s your guess?”

How well did she know him?

They’d enjoyed so many good times—wandering down by the river sharing secrets and fears. She’d counted on him for support and understanding but when her whole world had fallen apart and she needed him he’d disappeared. She’d waited for him to come. Her heart ached more with each passing day.

The final bit of bottom had fallen out of her world when she discovered he’d left town. She’d had to deal with the accident on her own.

The memory of it lived forever in her mind, in vivid color and sharp sounds. A wagon skidding on one wheel for what seemed a very long time. The scream of horses. The terrified cries of a woman with a baby clutched to her chest. She’d watched, powerless to stop the accident. Then in scenes so slow, so detailed she knew she would never erase them from her mind, the wagon hit a rock, flipped skyward, tipped over and landed upside-down. The woman flew through the air, landing with a heart-stopping thud. Then only the wheels moved, turning round and round.

She thought they would never quit.

She’d remained frozen to the spot until warm, demanding arms drew her away.

Her beloved stepmother, Rose, had died. As had baby Timmy.

She sucked in air and pushed away the memory, barring it from her thoughts.

At sixteen she had become a mother to Alex, six years her junior, and she had taken over her father’s household.

And Colby had left. He didn’t come for the funeral. He didn’t come to offer comfort. He didn’t come to share her fears. He returned eighteen months later with a wife soon to have a baby. Nora had died giving birth to Dorrie and Colby had thrust the newborn into Anna’s arms.

She shouldn’t have been surprised when Colby left a second time even though she could blame herself. She told him to leave. What she’d meant was for him to change his ways.

She no longer held out hope of him doing so and with decisiveness, shut her heart against caring, against hurting, and answered Laura’s question. “He’s never been one to stick around when things get difficult.”

“Then I expect he’ll soon be gone again.”

The thought should have been comforting. Instead it sliced through her heart like an out-of-control butcher knife. She turned away lest Laura guess at her turmoil. Why did she still care even after all the pain he’d brought to her life?

Thankfully there wasn’t time to discuss the matter further. Nor mull over silent questions. The ladies waited.

As she served tea and cakes, fourteen-year-old Alex came in from school. She went to the kitchen to speak to him.

“Come and say hello.”

“Do I have to?” He shuddered, headed for the back door and escape, his face alternating between a flush and pallor.

She knew how he struggled with social occasions but he must learn to do what was proper. “Yes, you do. It’s common courtesy.” She wished she could inject Alex with some self-confidence but every effort she made only seemed to cause him to pull back more quickly. She rested a hand lightly on his shoulder and steered him to the parlor where the ladies enjoyed tea and visiting. “Just say hello and then you can play with Dorrie.”

“’Lo.” It was barely audible and more of a mumble than anything.

She ached for the way he shied away from people, preferring to live with his books and toys. She’d done her best for him but she knew nothing about raising a child.

Rose had married Father when Anna was almost five. Rose had brought joy and love into both Father’s and Anna’s life. After her death, Father had withdrawn into his Bible study.