by Linda Ford
“Seems it’s always up. Hear he’s a hard man to work for, though perhaps only because he expects an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay.”
Colby kept his attention on the pastor as he spoke. “I could promise that.” He stole a glance at Anna and in that unguarded moment, her eyes flared, revealing the depth of her feeling for him. He turned his attention to the meal as joy filled his heart with rich strains of music.
“One of the best meals I’ve ever eaten,” he said a little while later.
“Thank you.” She pushed back. “Alex, clear up the table while I put soup bones to cook.” She reached for Dorrie.
“I’ll get her,” he offered.
She nodded and smiled as she hurried to the stove.
He lifted his daughter and stole a moment’s hug.
Dorrie patted his chin. “Owie,” she said as she felt his whiskers.
He laughed and waggled his chin. “Scratchy, aren’t they?”
She giggled then squirmed to be down. He lowered her to the floor but kept hold of her as he reached for the cloth on the cupboard and dipped it in the basin of water. “Let’s wash supper off your face.”
Dorrie lifted her face to him and let him wipe it clean.
He bent and kissed her plump cheeks then released her with a pat on the bottom. “There you go, little miss.”
She pushed a chair to the cupboard. “Me help.”
Anna rubbed the back of her hand over her brow. “Sweetie, Mama’s got to peel this onion.” She shot a glance at Colby. “I want to simmer the bones overnight.”
“Me help.”
Colby chuckled. “Let’s do dishes together.” He shifted Dorrie’s chair to the cupboard and let her put her hands in the soapy water. As Alex brought him the dishes, Colby leaned over Dorrie, reaching around her to wash.
He would never get tired of the smell of his child, the way her hair tickled his chin as he helped her wash the dishes. He wished the moment could last forever but all too soon the dishes were done.
Wanting—needing—to share his joy in this child, he turned to Anna, hoping to see her eyes soften with understanding. Instead, her eyes narrowed with warning. And though she never spoke a word, he heard her clearly.
Don’t think of taking her away. I won’t let you.
His joy plunged to the pit of his stomach. He had ruined so many things. Was it possible he could undo any of it?
With God’s help perhaps. Time alone would tell if God chose to give him such an undeserved blessing. In the meantime, he wasn’t leaving. How long would it take Anna to accept that as fact?
“Did you mean it when you said you’d help me practice for the race?” Alex asked.
“Of course. Tomorrow after school if it’s all right with Anna.”
“As soon as your chores are done. But you aren’t to interfere with Colby’s work.”
“I won’t.” He hurried to tackle his homework.
“Thank you, Colby.” Anna’s voice was sharp with warning but softened with gratitude.
“I’ve done nothing.”
“You’ve offered to help Alex. That’s something.”
He held on to hope. Perhaps she would begin to see just how they needed each other.
Colby had looked in vain for some sign of Hugh. The man must have been angry when Colby left after accusing him of such dreadful things. Colby knew he had not done anything shifty with Nora. The man had done nothing but help. Maybe Hugh was still mad enough to stay away. He hoped not. Hugh had been the one person besides Anna and her family who saw him as more than a drunken bum. He really wanted to find him and tell him he was sorry for his stupid words.
He asked the men who had gathered in the church again to hear more about God if they knew where he could find Hugh.
“Hugh’s gone,” Tobias said, his voice slow with sadness.
“Gone?” Shock numbed his cheeks. “Dead?”
“Nah. Gone to the Black Hills looking for gold.”
Colby’s breath whooshed out. “Scared me for a minute.”
Arty let out an expansive sigh. “Could be dead by now. I hear the camps are pretty rough places.”
Slink waved an unsteady hand. “Hugh knows how to take care of himself.”
“No one’s heard from him?” Colby asked.
“No one’s said so.”
“I wonder how a person could locate him?” Now it seemed he must find Hugh. Make sure he was alive.
Tobias rubbed his whiskery chin making a raspy sound. “Suppose you could write to the sheriff in one of the towns and ask after him.”
“Good idea. Maybe I’ll do that. Thanks for your help.”
If he could locate Hugh and make things right between them, it would be one less thing from his past to haunt him.
But one thing would forever haunt him.
He waved goodbye to the men before he allowed the worst thing from his past to fill his mind.
There was no way he could undo it. The best he could hope for was to hide from it.
“So we all know what we are to do for the party?” Mrs. Percy checked around the circle. The ladies’ sewing group had assembled again in the front room of the manse to plan the lunch the church would serve at the town birthday party. The usual people attended. It was nice to see Mrs. Booker, wan but able to be up and about. She had brought her sister, Grace Weaver, who wore a pretty gray dress. Anna decided Miss Weaver was almost as pretty as Rose had been.
The ladies murmured agreement to Mrs. Percy’s question. They had gone over the arrangements a number of times. Anna was certain everyone had memorized the details by now but Mrs. Percy was a stickler for wanting things perfect.
“Now about the booth downtown.”
There followed a flurry of suggestions.
Anna tried to concentrate on the business at hand as each one listed the items they would donate to sell at the booth to help fund a library for the town, but her thoughts insisted on drifting over to the church where Colby worked.
With each passing day she found it increasingly hard to keep Colby from invading her mind. Every moment they were apart she ached to be with him. Yet when she was with him, her caution made it impossible to fully enjoy his presence.
She was turning into a fussy old woman.
Mrs. Percy cleared her throat, alerting Anna to pay attention as an important item was to be introduced.
“Mr. Percy says the repairs are coming along well.”
Anna nodded, pleased for the faint praise on Colby’s behalf.
“I’m concerned, however—”
Anna sat up straight. Mrs. Percy’s “howevers” usually meant “oh, no” for Anna.
“Are you all aware of what’s going on at the church many evenings?”
Anna’s heart bolted for her mouth. Had people seen her going over to spend time with Colby? Had they deemed it inappropriate? Even though it had been perfectly innocent, necessary practice for the Sunday hymns, she should have been more careful.
“Unsavory characters hanging about.” She fixed Anna with a stern look. “Are you aware of this?”
Oh, only the men visiting Colby.
It took a full minute for Anna’s heart to resume its normal pace. “Of course. Father says the church welcomes sinners.”
Mrs. Klein nodded. “That’s a fact.”
“I just think it’s suspicious. Colby Bloxham and his old friends.” The word was accompanied with a sniff. “Could be they’re drinking.”
Anna stilled her features not to smile at the woman’s distress over such an idea. Then her amusement faded. She’d been equally suspicious and it was every bit as ludicrous on her behalf. “They’ve come to learn about God.”
Mrs. Percy’s mouth flopped open. She seemed to struggle with the idea. “Well.” Huff.
“Why, isn’t that wonderful.” It was Miss Weaver. “Exactly the sort of people our Lord would have sought out when He was on earth.”
Mrs. Percy’s eyebrows headed for her hairline. “Exa
ctly the sort He would have driven from the temple, I say. ‘My house is the house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves.’”
Miss Weaver smiled gently. “I must have misunderstood. I thought young Colby has repented and asked for salvation.”
Anna watched in awe. She had never seen anyone stand up to Mrs. Percy but despite how Miss Weaver spoke calmly, it was a duel as brisk as any with swords.
Mrs. Klein dared to enter the foray. “I understood the same thing.”
“Well, praise God.” Miss Weaver said with a gentle smile. “He is no longer the Colby you remember, is he? God’s word says ‘If any man be in Christ he is a new creature, old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.’”
Anna’s respect for Mrs. Booker’s sister grew. Yet the words troubled her. She believed God’s word. Heaven forbid otherwise. But was Colby a new creature? Was he changed or was this life convenient for now? After all, hadn’t he acted much the same before Rose died? Was this any more real?
Mrs. Percy smiled, a look as full of challenge as anything. “In Galatians, Chapter 6, and also First Corinthians, Chapter 4, Verse 2, if I don’t miss my mark—”
Anna knew—as did everyone else—that Mrs. Percy seldom missed her mark.
“We are warned that a man must prove himself.”
Exactly. That’s what Anna wanted—Colby to prove himself before she could trust her heart to him again.
Miss Weaver nodded. “I perceive you are a true student of the word.”
Heads jerked from Mrs. Percy to Miss Weaver, and Anna guessed the rest of the ladies were as keen to see how this exchange would end as she.
“But to whom must he prove himself? Does not the word warn us in Romans, Chapter 14, Verse 4, if I remember correctly but then I fear I am not the expert student you are, that ‘to his own master he standeth or falleth.’ Is it not the Lord’s work to change him? As it says in Philippians, Chapter 2, Verse 13, ‘It is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of His good pleasure.’ Perhaps we need to trust God to do His work.”
A couple of the women nodded. Mrs. Percy knew to say anything more would make her seem unchristian but Anna understood she wasn’t convinced.
Neither was Anna. Not that she didn’t trust that God could change people, but she wasn’t about to risk everything until she saw undeniable evidence Colby had changed. After all, he couldn’t even say what made him leave, so how could he be certain it wouldn’t happen again? And if he left once more, would he take more than her heart if she gave it to him?
Would he take Dorrie?
She had to clench her hands together to still the pain accompanying the thought.
Mrs. Percy found another bone to gnaw. “What about the cross? I assume a new one will be ready in time for the celebration.”
Anna pulled her thoughts back to the demands of the moment and nodded. “Father is taking care of it.” When she asked, Father assured her he and Colby had it in hand. She was not privy to their conversations, so had no idea exactly what was being done. But she trusted that if Father said it would be done, it would.
Chapter Twelve
Supper was over and the pastor had gone to the front room. That left Colby alone in the kitchen with Anna. Now was his chance. He would take care of this business of composing a letter to Hugh. “I want to write to a friend and wondered if I could get a piece of paper from you.”
“Of course.” She slipped into the front room and returned with a sheet of paper and a pencil. “You’re welcome to sit at the table to write.”
He accepted her offer and licked the end of the pencil then bent over the page. As always the words refused to form in his mind so he could put them to paper. He should start with “dear sheriff” but was it der? No that wasn’t right. Deer, dere? He sighed. The only thing he knew for certain was it started with D. He bent over the paper and laboriously made the first letter. He paused, leaned back, tried to remember how to spell the word. Nothing came. How would he manage sheriff when he couldn’t spell dear?
The pencil snapped between his fingers. Guilt at destroying the precious instrument crashed with frustration. “I’m sorry,” he muttered at Anna’s surprised glance, meaning the broken pencil.
“It’s not a problem.”
He bent his head, wishing she would look elsewhere. He didn’t want her to see his inability to write a simple letter. He read passably well, had managed to hide the fact from both Rose and Anna that he had trouble writing. How would she react?
His old man had jeered and called him stupid.
Only now did he realize the hurtful words came from a man who signed his name with an X.
Somehow the knowing should have made him feel better about being able to do more.
But it didn’t.
Anna moved closer.
He felt her stop at his side. Knew she studied the page. She’d have to be blind to not see the crudely made letter and stupid not to realize his difficulty. She was neither.
“Do you need some help?” Her quiet voice seemed to carry no opinion.
“I don’t write very good.” His throat clenched around the words allowing each to escape as a tight croak.
“I can write for you…unless you don’t want me to know what your letter says.”
His relief was so palpable he wondered it didn’t plop to the table quivering like warm pudding. “Nothing private about it at all.” He shoved the paper and sharpened bit of pencil toward her.
She pulled out a chair and sat at his elbow. So close he could smell bits of cinnamon and basil, and the clean fragrance of her soap.
He shifted, rested his arm on the back of her chair, barely an inch from touching her.
She bent over the paper, exposing the pearly white of her slender neck. “You dictate and I’ll write.”
He struggled to remember what he wanted to say. Her nearness made it impossible to think. He loved her. Plain and simple. He continued to pray she would give him another chance to prove himself worthy of her love.
She turned toward him. “Colby, what did you want me to write?”
Her eyes filled with golden color that came from streaks of light brown alternating with darker brown. Her lips parted in surprise at the way he stared at her and she looked expectant as if she wanted more from him. Like a kiss? How he ached to kiss her, but he dare not until he knew she would welcome him with a heart of trust.
It took every scrap of his mental strength to pull his gaze from hers and stare at the page.
She jerked her attention the same direction.
He removed his arm from the chair back and planted his hands firmly on his knee. “I’m trying to find a friend.” He could barely grate the words out. “But I don’t know where he is.” The tightness in his throat relaxed as he thought about Hugh. “I’m going to write a sheriff on the off chance that might locate him.”
She nodded, her head bent over the paper.
“Dear Sheriff,” he began. “My name is Colby Bloxham. You might have heard of me in the past. I am no longer that man. I am now a good, God-fearing man.” He paused. “Just put ‘a God-fearing man.’” He didn’t know if anyone would call him good. Not yet. He waited until she erased the word then continued dictating. “I’m looking for my friend Hugh Mackenzie. Is there any chance you have heard of him? If so, could you let him know Colby wants to hear from him? He can contact me at Steveville, Dakota Territory.” He spoke slowly as Anna wrote the words, amazed at how quickly the beautiful script appeared at her hands.
“That’s about it I guess.”
She put the pencil down and leaned back. Her shoulder brushed his.
He steeled himself to keep from wrapping his arms around her and pressing her to his chest where she would surely feel the demanding beat of his heart.
She pushed back. “I’ll get an envelope.”
It took concentrated effort to force air into his lungs. He held it there waiting for sanity and reality to replace the trembling of his thoughts.<
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She returned and stood across the table from him. “How shall I address it?”
He’d thought it through and decided on the most likely place. “The Sheriff, Lead, Dakota Territory. He went looking for gold.”
She wrote the words on the envelope then handed it to him.
He folded the letter neatly, tucked it inside and sealed the flap. “Thank you. I’ll mail it tomorrow.”
She smiled, something warm and understanding in her gaze. “Glad to help and I hope you find your friend.” She ducked her head and when she looked at him again he saw uncertainty in her eyes.
His blood felt thick as it pushed through his veins. He did not want to hear again how she couldn’t get over him leaving in the past, so he headed for the door. He paused only long enough to thank her again then chased his regrets outside.
Anna stared after him, her mind in a whirl. Since the ladies had left, Miss Weaver’s words had haunted her. Was God changing him? Could she trust God? Yes. But Colby…
Not, she knew, without evidence.
And how she longed to see that evidence and be able to recapture the sweet bonds they had once shared.
Lord, help us regain the trust and closeness we once had. Now, if it be Your will, please show me if it’s safe to trust him.
The next day was busier than usual. Dorrie got into a hundred things before the day was an hour old and from there she gained steam.
In her haste to catch up, Anna sloshed the dishwater and ended up washing the floor unexpectedly.
Little annoyances built one on another.
She paused as a bout of tears threatened. Why was she letting things bother her?
She knew the answer. Because she cared for Colby. He’d laid claim to a great portion of her heart. She’d only been sixteen when he left and yet he continually filled her hopes and dreams for the future. How she ached for the closeness of the past.
How foolish her thoughts…to want the very thing that could destroy her. With great effort she pushed stubborn resolve into her heart. She could not allow him to hurt her again.
