The Cowboy's Baby Read Online Free PDF

stronger, more insistent emotion prevailed. He wanted to sit at the same table as Anna, have a chance to watch her, enjoy the sound of her voice.
    He took the place Anna indicated—to the left ofPastor Caldwell and across from Alex, who rushed in from school to join them. Anna sat opposite her father.
    He didn’t miss the fact his plate had been shoved as far away from Anna as possible but it only served to allow him opportunity to study her without the risk of being caught staring. She wore her hair in a roll at the back of her head. Supposed it was more in keeping with her role as the pastor’s homemaker than letting it fall down her back as he remembered—the sun catching in it like gold glinting in a river. He’d already had a chance to see her eyes. Not that he needed any reminder. Light brown. There was a time they would look at him with warmth like a banked fire instead of coal-like coldness he now received.
    Anna turned the high chair where Dorrie sat so the baby had her back to him. At Dorrie’s protest he understood his daughter didn’t like it any more than he did. He wanted to be able to study this little scrap of humanity he’d had a part in creating.
    He met Anna’s considering look. Saw the challenge in her eyes. Seems every time he tried to be different, something jerked him back to his old ways. But this time he’d run as far as he dared. He’d seen where he could end up.
    He pulled his thoughts away from the journey that readied him to return. And away from the despicable deeds he had done. If Anna heard them…well, he could only hope she wouldn’t.
    Anna had often begged him to stop drinking and take a role in raising his daughter. His response had been to hit the trail with a bottle in his hand.
    But that was over and he was back.
    He felt Alex eyeing him under the shield of his lashes. The boy had grown considerably since Colby last saw him, though he was still small and puny. And lacking in confidence if the way he kept his head down indicated anything. Colby had learned to never duck his head, always fix a man with a bold, defiant stare, but then he supposed Alex didn’t have any of the reasons Colby had for the way he viewed the world.
    The strain in Alex’s posture and Anna’s averted eyes scraped along Colby’s nerves, magnified by the way Dorrie fussed because she had to face the stove.
    “She ain’t invisible,” he muttered. “I see her fine. She’s got real purty hair.”
    Dorrie squirmed, trying to turn around. Then she kicked her heels against the chair legs. It sounded like she said, “Mama, wanna see.” She threw her head back and shrieked.
    No mistaking the determination in her voice, tinged with a pout. That child needs a cuff alongside her ear.
    The words bellowed through his head in a voice he recalled from his past—his pa’s. How often had he heard it and felt the blow that followed.
    His insides tightened in a familiar response, ready to duck or run and if that failed, to fight back. He forced himself to relax and something unfamiliar in its insistency edged past the words from his past. He wouldn’t run if someone tried to hit that little girl.
    He’d left his baby daughter with Anna and her father, knowing they were good, gentle Christian people who, he hoped, would not treat the baby harshly. Yet he knew many good people believed in a strong hand with children. Conquer their spirit. Spare the rod and spoil the child. He understood the need for discipline but he hoped Anna had found a way to do it gently and kindly.
    He had no idea how he would handle the situation other than to cuff the child. His nerves remained tense as he watched to see what she would do.
    Anna took Dorrie’s hands and spoke gently. “Dorrie, sweetie, you must not speak to Mama like that.” She held the baby’s hands until Dorrie settled down.
    The air in Colby’s lungs released in a hot blast. Her kind correction of Dorrie caught him somewhere between his rib cage and his gut.