The Cowboy's Baby by Linda Ford Page A

involved in Dorrie’s life as he could without putting her at risk.
    In the meantime, he had a church to repair.
    He glanced toward Alex who continued to pull out damaged shingles, oblivious to the drama on the ground below him. The boy—almost man— needed to cut the apron strings both he and his sister clung to. “What about Alex?”
    By the way her eyes darkened and narrowed, he knew she struggled with her need to keep Alex safe and her desire to prove she had enough faith.
    How much faith was enough? He didn’t know. It was a question he’d have to ask Pastor Caldwell.
    Fear and caution seemed about to win the battle in her mind. “I don’t want him on the roof.It’s too dangerous.” She called Alex and again told him to get down.
    Alex glanced at Colby, seeming to want his approval.
    “How about you burn the lot?” Colby said.
    “Sure.”
    Colby felt Anna gasp as Alex scampered down the ladder to grab the wheelbarrow and race it over to the smoldering pile. The flames lick higher as he tossed on bits of wood.
    She pressed her palm against her breastbone as she watched the flames. “I will never see a fire without remembering the fear of seeing homes engulfed and waiting, praying, fully expecting to see our home go.” She swallowed hard.
    Colby ached to comfort her. He thought of pulling her into his arms and holding her until her fears subsided, but she stiffened if he so much as brushed her hand. Yet his need to help her could scarcely be bottled up. “I heard how the good Lord spared the church and your house.” He bravely touched her elbow. “Seems God protected you.”
    She turned her gaze to him, the flames still flickering in her irises. “But why us and not the others?”
    He tried to think of an answer but he was no preacher and he was distracted by the warmth of her arm beneath the fabric of her sleeve, and even more than that—the way his blood gathered up theglow where they connected and fired it all the way to his heart to throw fresh fuel on the flame of their past. He wanted to rekindle what they had once had.
    Or did he want to take the embers from the past and start something new? The latter, he realized with all his heart. Something new, something fresh and powerful. Please God, give me another chance.
    But how many chances did God give a person? Colby knew he’d had more than his fair share. Making it back to Steveville without detection or interference might have used up the last of his chances. He pushed his thoughts back to the subject at hand.
    “He’ll be careful. I’ll make sure of it.”
    She held his gaze. Slowly, her eyes cleared and her fears seemed to subside.
    He smiled, relieved she chose to trust him with her little brother. Given time, perhaps he could prove she could trust him with her heart.
    A little later, he hurried over for supper, eager to see if anything between them had changed, if the tiny crack he’d seen had widened.
    Dorrie babbled a greeting when Colby walked into the kitchen. She waved her hands as she talked and pointed toward the table.
    “Sorry, little gal. I don’t understand you.” Apart from the sweet words of da-da.
    Anna picked up Dorrie and settled her in thehigh chair. “We don’t understand most of what she says, either.” The smile she gave Dorrie trembled when she glanced at Colby.
    He sensed her hesitation, as if she couldn’t decide if their feelings should be allowed to progress or not. He smiled. He had all the time in the world to prove she could trust him.
    She served the meal then toyed with her very tasty brown beans and corn bread as if they had no more flavor than chalk.
    “These are delicious, Anna. You’re an excellent cook.”
    She looked at him then, her eyes wide as if his words surprised her. And he saw something more, a flash of pleasure at his praise. Her eyes brightened. Her mouth curved sweetly. “Thank you.” Her gaze lingered no longer than a heartbeat but in that brief encounter he saw something he