The Cowboy's Baby. Linda Ford

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу The Cowboy's Baby - Linda Ford страница 4

The Cowboy's Baby - Linda Ford Mills & Boon Love Inspired

Скачать книгу

off. “Let’s go find Poppa.” She plucked the child from her chair, wiped her face and settled her on her hip.

      “See Poppa?”

      “Yes, pet. We’ll see your poppa.” She hated to disturb Father at the church where he went to meditate but she badly needed his counsel.

      She ducked out the back door. The wall of the church was blackened. The sight still gave her heart a jerk. The fire had taken out several homes and damaged the church before it was quenched. Thank God the fire had stopped when it did. Thank God no lives had been lost, though a few families had lost homes.

      Guilt weaved throughout her thoughts. She really didn’t have time to wander around nursing her worries. Alex would soon be home from school, needing supervision. Supper needed making and she must finish sewing together the quilt top the women were making for the Anderson family who were among those who’d lost their homes. Tomorrow afternoon the sewing circle would gather at the manse to put together the quilt.

      But first she would find some peace at the church and at Father’s side.

      As she crossed the yard she noted a saddled horse on the other side of the road, in the shelter of some trees where the road branched off to a pathway leading to the narrow river cutting past the town. Strange that a horse should be left thus. Then she saw Colby lounging in the shadow of the trees. Did he intend to spy on them, perhaps wait for a chance to snatch his daughter?

      She clutched Dorrie tighter and raced into the shelter of the church. “Father,” she called, her voice tight with unformed terror, “he’s come back. What are we going to do?”

      Chapter Two

      Colby saw Anna look in his direction, noted how she jerked in surprise and likely a whole lot of anger, then raced into the church. She obviously didn’t like the fact he was there. He doubted she wanted to know he intended to stay around. She’d hurried into the church so fast he’d gotten no more than a glimpse—just enough to make him want more. He recalled a time when they had spent many an hour wandering down the nearby path discussing anything and everything and sometimes nothing. It was the only time in his life he’d felt real and honest.

      He’d run from that, driven by his own internal demons. But wherever he’d run, whatever he’d done—and he hoped no one would ever know what that was—a vast hollowness sucked at his heart. Only one thing had ever satisfied that emptiness— Anna’s presence.

      He’d seen the child perched on Anna’s hip. Dorrie. Grown considerably. In the seconds he’d had to study her he could say she looked a sturdy child with hair somewhat fairer than his own with a big white bow in the back. He wanted to see and know this tiny bit of humanity he’d made with Nora. He’d come back to be a proper father but he knew so little about being one except to know he didn’t want to be like his pa.

      He guessed Anna wouldn’t be leaving the sanctuary of the church while he stood there. “I’ll be back,” he muttered as he swung to Pal’s back.

      Several hours later he strode into the Lucky Lady and checked the occupants. No sign of Hugh. Was he still around the area or had he left for something better—or at least different? Could save your energy, Hugh. Different ain’t better.

      Arty sat at the same table, his eyes now glassy, his hat askew. Another familiar figure sat across from him—Tobias—neat and tidy as always, and rough shaven just as Colby remembered. He wondered if the man used a dull table knife for a razor.

      He saw it all in a glance even as he watched the dark-eyed troublemaker nod to the men on either side of him who then slid away as the man slowly uncoiled himself from the bar to slither toward Colby.

      “This the one who caused you a problem?” The question came from Colby’s right.

      He tensed, feeling as much as seeing, the two crowding close. He kept his attention on the man crossing the room. Keep coming. Bring your trouble to me. Leave poor old Arty alone.

      But the man stopped and slapped the table in front of Arty. He jumped and half tumbled from his chair.

      Colby eased forward prepared to help though he perceived it wasn’t Arty the dark-eyed man wanted to tangle with. “Leave him be.”

      “Who? This old drunk?” He grabbed the bottle from the table and tipped it over. Only a few drops spilled out as Arty had already drained it, but the old man cried out and lurched to rescue it as if it held several generous drinks.

      The man pushed Arty aside. “Sit down, old man. Before you end up facedown in the sawdust.”

      Arty stumbled backward, swayed and clutched at the stranger’s arm to steady himself.

      “Get away from me, you old bum.” The troublemaker tossed Arty aside.

      Colby saw Arty was going to land heavily and he strode forward to catch him.

      He didn’t make two steps before his arms were caught on each side. Helplessly he watched Arty skid to the floor and flounder for a grasp on something solid. He found the rung of the chair and started to pull himself back to its seat only to have the chair kicked away from him.

      Colby growled. “Leave him alone.”

      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

Скачать книгу