The Cowboy's Baby. Linda Ford

as she sewed the edging on. She thought of how close she had come to sharing Hazel Anderson’s situation. The fire had been within inches… She shuddered. Life was so uncertain.

      She jabbed the needle through the layers of the quilt with unusual vigor. Father might feel charitable toward Colby Bloxham. But all she felt was an enormous need to get the man on his way as soon as humanly possible before he upset her life. Again.

      She needed divine help and paused to bow her head. Our Father in heaven, be so kind as to put Your mighty hand on the man’s back and move him onward. Before he turns my world upside down and my heart inside out. Again.

      Chapter Five

      Anna woke the next morning with a heavy feeling in her limbs. She wanted to believe it was because the night had been unbearably hot. Or because the wind wailed and moaned around the house like a woman in mourning yet did nothing to relieve the heat.

      But it was not the warm air or tormented wind that prevented Anna from sleeping.

      She had mentally scolded herself far into the night.

      Why did she still react to Colby with the same swift pleasure and longing as she had when she was young and foolish?

      Why had she let Colby affect her so she said such a foolish thing as burn the cross? Not that the cross mattered except to her.

      But his intentions regarding Dorrie did matter. Would he take the child? Could he? She gave a snort of disbelief. Who in their right mind would let him? And she didn’t mean just herself. The town would rise up and stop him. Colby Bloxham raising a little girl?

      With sluggish inefficiency she prepared breakfast and tended to Dorrie. It was Saturday so she left Alex sleeping. She didn’t feel up to coping with his reluctance to do his assigned chores even though she suspected he would open his eyes, turn to his back and read as soon as she stepped from his room. She shrugged. What did it matter if he enjoyed a few relaxing moments?

      She turned her thoughts back to the cross. During the night she had made up her mind. The cross might mean nothing special to anyone else but it did to her and she wanted to keep it. As soon as breakfast was over she’d take a hammer and screwdriver and figure out a way to get it off the wall before Colby could follow her rash instructions.

      Father returned from his morning prayers, his step light. He’d plainly enjoyed his time with God.

      She needed some time alone with her Lord, as well. Time to pull her worries into submission. Time to find her peace.

      Knowing Colby might show up any moment to start repairs, the church would no longer be a place of refuge for her.

      Another reason to resent the man’s reappearance in her life.

      She sighed inwardly, her weariness increasing with each moment.

      Breakfast was almost ready and she called Alex but didn’t wait for him to get dressed before she informed Father the meal was ready and put Dorrie in her chair. Neither of them could bear to wait for their morning meal.