The Cowboy's Baby

by Linda Ford

“Ball. Mine.”

  “’Fraid not, honey. Give it back.”

  Dorrie held on with all her might. “Mine.”

  Anna stood a few inches away but didn’t intervene. She couldn’t wait to see how Colby would deal with this stubborn side of his sweet little daughter.

  Meanwhile the little boy continued to scream as his parents tried to console him.

  “You have to give it back,” Colby insisted. “It belongs to that little boy.”

  “No.” Dorrie stuck out her chin.

  Anna knew the look and settled back on her heels. Colby had two choices—wrestle the ball from Dorrie’s hands, or divert her so she let it go.

  Colby looked at her, silently pleading for help. Grinning, she shrugged. She’s your daughter. You deal with her.

  He apparently got her silent message for he sighed and rolled his eyes, which sent Anna into a fit of giggles.

  “Dorrie, my dear sweet child, if you give back the ball I’ll buy you a candy stick.”

  Dorrie looked at the ball, looked at her father as if to measure his sincerity.

  “Ball.” She handed it to the sobbing boy. “Canny,” she said to Colby.

  Colby grinned triumphantly as they joined Anna.

  “Bribery,” she murmured. “I can’t believe you’d stoop to bribery.”

  “I was about ready to do anything to end that scene.” He grinned at Anna and they both laughed.

  And without her permission her heart claimed the day for its own to enjoy. Even if he left again, she would at least have this one day to cherish.

  They found a candy booth and Colby purchased a red-and-white barber-striped candy then they returned to the games in time to hear a race for twelve-to fourteen-year-old boys announced.

  Alex headed toward the start line then stopped, uncertainty apparent in his expression.

  Colby handed Dorrie to Anna and hurried to Alex’s side.

  She followed, curious about what he intended.

  He leaned close to Alex.

  Anna strained to hear his soft words. “This is great practice. You can see how all the things I taught you work in a real race. Never mind if you win or lose. Concentrate on your technique.”

  Alex nodded and strode to the start, his head high.

  Anna shot Colby a look of thanks but his gaze remained on Alex. He mouthed words. She realized he repeated instructions he must have taught Alex.

  “That’s it. Get into a good position.”

  Ready. Set. Go. They were off. When Alex gained the lead from the first step, Anna cheered so loud Dorrie jumped. “Look, sweetie. Alex is running. He might win.”

  Dorrie yelled loudly though she likely had no idea why.

  Colby shot a glance at his noisy daughter, his gaze brushed Anna and they laughed as if the moment held wonderful significance.

  She hoped it did.

  Alex led the pack. A bigger lad gained but Alex crossed the finish line first. His grin at winning rivaled the sunshine for brightness.

  Alex had always been shy about competing, didn’t like to do anything where he might fail. Anna had never known such pride in her brother marred only by the certainty that this was another step away from her.

  “Now for all the men.”

  Colby acted like he didn’t hear.

  Anna nudged him. “This is your race.”

  “Nah, I don’t think so.”

  “Of course you’ll run.”

  Alex reached his side. “Come on, Colby. Show them how it’s done.”

  Colby scrubbed the back of his hand over his chin. “I don’t know. Don’t you think I’m too grown up for this?”

  Alex grabbed his hand and dragged him away.

  Colby chuckled as they trotted over to the start.

  Anna moved down the side where she had an unobstructed view. Colby flashed her a grin that shot through all her defenses and landed somewhere south of her heart. She loved him. Despite uncertainty about the future, despite everything, she loved him.

  Today she would simply accept the fact.

  Tomorrow she would deal with reality.

  She cheered as the race began. He slowed as he drew even with her to flash her another grin and it cost him the race. Not that he seemed to mind. He was in high spirits as he rejoined her.

  They watched the horse races. They shared a huge bag of popcorn. Anna realized she would have enjoyed anything in Colby’s company, knowing she loved him, all doubts and fears silenced for the day.

  Later they bought sandwiches and pie at the food booth, then it was time to go home and prepare for the evening activities.

  Anna’s face stung from too long in the sun. And Dorrie’s cheeks were far too red even though Anna had tried to keep a bonnet on her. She sponged their faces carefully and put on a clean dress. She put the new pinafore over Dorrie’s dress and smoothed her hair.

  In the other rooms she could hear Father and Alex preparing.

  She smiled at Dorrie. “We’re ready.”

  Dorrie nodded. “I wedy.”

  They hurried to the church. Already the sanctuary was crowded. More people gathered outside. Anna made her way to the front and handed Dorrie to Laura.

  She began to play the hymns, her throat tightening when Colby joined in, playing the mouth organ as he stood to the side of the piano. Their gazes connected and she smiled. Something wrenched inside her, a combination of sweetness and fear. She’d always protected her heart. Life had taught the value of doing so. But her love for Colby could not be denied. For whatever time she had, she would enjoy it and pray she would survive if he left.

  The music drifted around her and through her. This was one thing they shared without reservation. She let him take the melody and improvised an accompaniment. A hush fell over the crowd. She knew the congregation enjoyed the music as much as she and Colby.

  Father went to the pulpit. He welcomed everyone then announced the first hymn.

  Anna could enjoy sharing music with Colby for a few more minutes.

  She’d prepared a solo, practicing with Colby accompanying her on the mouth organ and went to the pulpit when Father nodded to her. The hymn she’d chosen was an old Charles Wesley one, “O for a thousand tongues to sing my great Redeemer’s praise.”

  It fit perfectly with her feelings and for this occasion of meeting in the church again.

  She finished and sat beside Laura, her heart so full of joy and love it forced tears to her eyes. She blinked them away.

  Colby slid in beside her.

  She daren’t look at him even when Dorrie scrambled from Laura’s knee across Anna and straight to her father’s lap.

  Anna felt Laura watching her and composed her face before glancing at her and giving a quick shrug as if to say what did it matter if Dorrie enjoyed her father’s attention?

  Father preached a brief sermon on God’s faithfulness in sparing them from disaster in the fire and in bringing them back to this place of worship.

  “And now for the final act of dedication.”

  Father’s words made Anna sit up straight. They had gone through the program many times and it was to end now.

  Colby plunked Dorrie to Anna’s lap and hurried down the aisle.

  She couldn’t imagine where he went in such a hurry, then her attention was diverted by a murmur at the back and she turned to see what caused the disturbance.

  Before she could see any cause, uncertain voices began to sing, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.” The song, sung in deep male voices without instrumental accompaniment, drew her attention to the door.

  A parade of men entered, a cross over their shoulders.

  Anna recognized the men as those who had been in and out of the church the past month. They still wore shabby clothes but their faces glowed as they marched up the aisle carrying the cross. Colby was the last man in line.

  She swallowed hard as they stepped to the platform and lowered the cross. They turned it for all to see and she gasped. The original cross, scarred by the fi
re, formed the center of a new one, blending seamlessly into the new structure.

  Colby cleared his throat. “The cross is scarred. As it should be. I don’t think it was a thing of beauty so much as a crude rough instrument of torture on which my Savior died. He died for all of us here. You, me and these men standing with me. Each of us on this stage has found mercy and forgiveness at the foot of an old rugged cross. Not this one. This is only a reminder. But at the cross upon which Jesus died. However, I know some people have found comfort from looking at this reminder of God’s love.”

  He glanced at Anna and flashed a quick smile.

  She could barely see him through the sheen of tears.

  “My hope and prayer is that many more of you will find comfort, mercy and forgiveness at the cross.”

  He signaled the men and they hung the cross on the back wall.

  “Have you noticed the border?” Colby asked the audience.

  Anna scrubbed her eyes so she could see clearly. An intricately carved design formed a beautiful border.

  “You can’t see it from where you sit but this border is names, dates and verses. These men have come to the Lord and this is their testimony of salvation.”

  He nodded and one by one the men stepped to the cross and touched a place.

  “Slink, May 25. ‘For by grace are ye saved.’”

  “Tobias, May 26. ‘For God so loved the world.’”

  “Luke, June 1. ‘He gave the right to become children of God.’”

  By the time all the men said their names and read their verses, tears trickled down Anna’s cheeks. She heard others sniffing and wondered if there could be a dry eye in the place.

  Colby went to the cross. “Colby, May 20. ‘If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature.’”

  Joy flowed with Anna’s tears. God had changed Colby. She needed no further proof. She gladly, willingly trusted him.

  He met her eyes across the space of the platform and smiled. For you. She heard the silent words. He’d done this for her. He’d repaired the cross so she could remember the times she’d found strength. It was a wonderful gift, blessing her and others, as well.

  The men paraded back down the aisle. As they passed, many reached out from the pews to shake their hands. Colby followed them out.

  Anna had to wait for the others to depart before she could make it outside. She wanted to find Colby but the crowd kept them apart.

  Mr. Steves sat in the place of honor. A big slab of birthday cake practically filled the table in front of him. People filed by extending best wishes as they made their way past to secure a place at one of the benches.

  She tried to find Colby in the crowd, caught his eyes across the yard before someone stepped into her path. She shifted, searched for him where she’d last seen him but he had moved. She saw him to one side.

  He tipped his chin, signaling her to stay there. He headed in her direction, weaving in and out of the people who crowded around for a chance to speak to Mr. Steves.

  She stood watching as he closed the distance between them, her joy mounting with every moment. God had graciously answered her prayer.

  Colby finally made it to Anna’s side.

  She had so much to tell him but didn’t know where to start. “Thank you,” she whispered. “The cross is beautiful.” She meant so much more but couldn’t form a solid thought.

  “I’m glad you like it. I hoped you would.”

  And then the opportunity passed as the crowd sang “Happy Birthday.”

  Miss Weaver had taken over organizing the tea and when Anna went to the table to help serve, the woman shooed her away.

  “You go look after that sweet baby.”

  So she returned to Colby’s side. They sat down, Dorrie between them as the ladies served cake to each and everyone.

  She wanted to say more. Find words to describe what she felt but the crowd hushed as the mayor gave a speech. Other dignitaries spoke and Mr. Steves responded with a gracious thank you but Anna hardly heard as she watched Colby feed Dorrie cake. She was consumed with a love so full, so sweet, so surprisingly powerful she could hardly think as longing rose up within her, a need to belong to him wholly and completely, be with him always, sharing the joys of each day, supporting each other through the hard times.

  Her heart seemed to swell with every beat until she felt nothing but the emotion of the moment.

  The clapping as Mr. Steves finished his speech startled her. She scrambled to pull her thoughts back to where they belonged—thinking about her responsibilities—as people pressed in around them, some shaking Colby’s hand, thanking him for the job on the church or the gift of the cross. Others paused to thank Anna for her song, or ask about washing dishes from the tea.

  She directed the cleanup. When she looked up, Colby was gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As Colby followed the men to help set up fireworks he couldn’t stop grinning. Anna had been pleased with how he’d fixed the cross. Her eyes glistened when she thanked him. Her gaze seemed to cling to him, following his every move.

  He knew she wanted to say more but there was too much commotion. It would have to wait.

  Later, his job done, he found Anna sitting on a bench, Dorrie asleep in her arms. The way she smiled up at him, her eyes laced with gladness and welcome, his heart forgot it was supposed to beat regularly. Instead, it hesitated then pulsed blood through his veins with such force he felt it pound against his eardrum. And welcomed the noise.

  He sat close to her, stroking Dorrie’s damp head. “It’s been a big day for her.”

  “I’m afraid we’ll pay for it tomorrow. She doesn’t like having her routine changed.”

  Her breath, soft and alluring, whispered over his cheek. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around this woman who had stolen his heart, and this baby who was flesh of his flesh, to hold them close forever, take care of them, protect them—could he? Or would he fail?

  He shoved the doubts away. Tonight was for celebration and joy. He shifted, leaning one elbow on the table as he faced her. “I’ll help with her.”

  The smile in her eyes spoke welcome and home.

  Home. What he’d always wanted.

  What he dreamed would be possible with sweet Anna and now, as well, his little Dorrie.

  They had to talk but not here. Not now when others dashed by or stopped to speak to them. Not with his precious daughter sleeping in Anna’s arms.

  The light faded.

  “Time for the fireworks,” he murmured.

  The sky lit with flashes. Smoke trailed after the light and a deep-throated thunder followed.

  The crowd clapped and cheered.

  Dorrie wakened, crying and throwing herself backward.

  Colby lifted her from Anna’s lap. “Look at the lights. Fireworks.”

  Another burst filled the sky and Dorrie stopped crying so suddenly she coughed.

  The show went on for twenty minutes, then people began to disperse. Someone had lit lanterns along the street to help the crowd find its way to their buggies and wagons.

  Dorrie started to fuss.

  “Time for bed,” Anna said.

  “I’ll take her in.”

  Dorrie was inconsolable by the time they made their way to the house.

  Anna reached for her. “She won’t settle when she’s this upset. I’ll have to rock her to sleep.” She smiled at Colby as she bounced the crying child. “Good night.”

  He patted Dorrie’s head. He didn’t want to end the day but Dorrie needed her bed and her mama. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She nodded and left him to find his own way out.

  He made his way to the shack he’d been sharing with Tobias. As he opened the door a gangly youth rushed toward him.

  “Mr. Bloxham. Mr. Bloxham. I been looking all over for you. Got a telegram. Real important.”

  Colby rescued the yellow bit of paper the boy waved about and quickly read it. He grunted and scrubbed a hand over his chin.


  Tobias watched. “Bad news?”

  “I have to go. Take this to Miss Caldwell first thing in the morning.”

  Anna fell asleep with her lips curved in a smile. Tomorrow she and Colby would find a time and place to talk. All evening she had turned to him, knowing her eyes brimmed with promise and acceptance. His had responded with such joy she found herself overflowing with laughter. Thankfully others seemed to be in a celebratory mood and didn’t think her actions inappropriate.

  Something jerked her from a sound sleep. Her room was dark. She listened, straining to hear any unusual sound.

  The sound came again. A choking cry.

  Dorrie! Something about the child’s cry sounded terribly wrong.

  She raced for the baby’s bedroom but even before she stepped through the door she heard the laborious breathing.

  Hurrying, she lit the lamp and bent over the crib. It took only a glance to see Dorrie’s glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. “Poor baby. No wonder you were fussy.”

  The first thing she had to do was tackle the fever. No, perhaps she needed to address the breathing first. She raced to the kitchen, threw coal in the stove and put a kettle to boil.

  As she waited for it to sing she rushed back to the bedroom, dragged the rocking chair close to the crib and used a sheet to prepare a steam tent. Dorrie would protest but it had to be done.

  She raced back for the steaming kettle and a basin that she put on a little stool in front of the chair then picked up Dorrie, moaning at how the little one strained for each breath. She stripped her down to her diaper. She poured the boiling water into the basin, pulled the sheet over them and held Dorrie over the steam.

  Sweat soon poured from every pore in Anna’s body but she continued to pour in hot water until the kettle was drained.

  As soon as the steam cooled, she returned Dorrie to her bed and hurried to get a basin of tepid water. Frantically she set to sponging the child, praying desperately for the fever to subside, for Dorrie’s lungs to open.

  Dawn spilled pink light over the horizon and Anna saw no improvement. Her worry gave way to fear as real and cruel as a fist to her stomach. “Please, God. Take the fever from her. Ease her breathing.”