impossible to sort out her feelings. He’d understood this piece of burned wood meant something to her and saved it. His insight surprised her, shifted her thoughts so she wasn’t able to maintain her anger toward him. “Thank you,” she murmured. “It was kind of you to save it.”
His eyes blazed with amusement. “I’m really a nice guy.”
She couldn’t break away from his gaze, knew a jab of regret that what they once shared no longer existed. There was a time she would have told him her doubts and fears. He would have told her his dreams. Just as he’d told her about the harshness he’d suffered at the hands of his father.
She blinked. Seems he could never run far enough to escape that memory. She tried to protect herself with such knowledge yet something soft as warm butter had eased her anger. “You didn’t come for breakfast,” she murmured.
“I didn’t know if I was welcome.”
Guilty as accused. For the moment she couldn’t remember why she should have made him feel so cautious. “It’s not too late.”
He nodded, a tangle of hope and caution filling his expression. “I’ll be over then.”
She stepped away, sucked in smoke-laden air that seemed lacking in oxygen, and hurried to the yard, the smoke out there even heavier. No wonder she couldn’t breathe normally. In the house, she placed another plate on the table. She heard Father moving about and went to inform him Colby would be over and suggested he keep him company.
Father sorted through some books, no doubt looking for a commentary or something.
She glanced around the room. “Where’s Dorrie?”
He looked up, surprise widening his eyes. “She was just here.”
Anna resisted an urge to roll her eyes. Father could become so focused on something the world could fall down around his feet and he’d barely notice.
“Dorrie,” she called.
“She’s with me.” Alex’s voice came from his bedroom.
The impact of what she’d just done hit her so hard she groaned.
“Something wrong?” Father asked.
“No.” Not in the sense he meant. But she’d extended a welcome to a man who not only could tear out her heart but rip her family apart, as well.She scrambled to think how she could undo her foolish deed.
She hurried to Alex’s bedroom. Dorrie’s head lay close to his on the pillow and she scrunched up beside him peering at the book he read to her.
“Keep Dorrie here for a bit, would you?”
Alex lowered the book to look at Anna. “How come?”
“Colby is coming for breakfast and—” She sent a warning look in Dorrie’s direction.
“Sure. We’re going to finish reading this book, aren’t we, Dorrie?”
Dorrie babbled something, pointing at one of the pictures and Anna hurried out, grateful for Alex’s understanding.
Knowing Dorrie would be safe from Colby for a bit longer, her heart grew lighter and she sang the words to one of Issac Watt’s hymns, “Alas! and did my Savior bleed?” as she fried more potatoes and eggs and sliced more bread.
She could protect Dorrie. Thank you, God.
The cross had been saved. Thank God.
And thank Colby? a fragile voice whispered.
She’d thanked him. Even invited him to breakfast against her better judgment. And she’d thank him good and proper…
When he waved goodbye as he rode from town, leaving them in peace.
Colby tapped on the door then stepped inside and quietly sat at the table. Father poured them coffee. Colby glanced past her as if searching for Dorrie.
She sent him a look intended to inform him he could eat at her table, rescue the cross she attached sentimental value to, maybe even renew bits and pieces of their old friendship, but he needn’t expect her to let him see Dorrie if she could help it.
She wouldn’t stand by and let him gaze at the child with the longing and sadness she’d seen last night.
“Mama.” Dorrie raced into the room, Alex hot on her heels.
“She wouldn’t stay.” He sent Colby a curious look before he ducked his head,
His eyes blazed with amusement. “I’m really a nice guy.”
She couldn’t break away from his gaze, knew a jab of regret that what they once shared no longer existed. There was a time she would have told him her doubts and fears. He would have told her his dreams. Just as he’d told her about the harshness he’d suffered at the hands of his father.
She blinked. Seems he could never run far enough to escape that memory. She tried to protect herself with such knowledge yet something soft as warm butter had eased her anger. “You didn’t come for breakfast,” she murmured.
“I didn’t know if I was welcome.”
Guilty as accused. For the moment she couldn’t remember why she should have made him feel so cautious. “It’s not too late.”
He nodded, a tangle of hope and caution filling his expression. “I’ll be over then.”
She stepped away, sucked in smoke-laden air that seemed lacking in oxygen, and hurried to the yard, the smoke out there even heavier. No wonder she couldn’t breathe normally. In the house, she placed another plate on the table. She heard Father moving about and went to inform him Colby would be over and suggested he keep him company.
Father sorted through some books, no doubt looking for a commentary or something.
She glanced around the room. “Where’s Dorrie?”
He looked up, surprise widening his eyes. “She was just here.”
Anna resisted an urge to roll her eyes. Father could become so focused on something the world could fall down around his feet and he’d barely notice.
“Dorrie,” she called.
“She’s with me.” Alex’s voice came from his bedroom.
The impact of what she’d just done hit her so hard she groaned.
“Something wrong?” Father asked.
“No.” Not in the sense he meant. But she’d extended a welcome to a man who not only could tear out her heart but rip her family apart, as well.She scrambled to think how she could undo her foolish deed.
She hurried to Alex’s bedroom. Dorrie’s head lay close to his on the pillow and she scrunched up beside him peering at the book he read to her.
“Keep Dorrie here for a bit, would you?”
Alex lowered the book to look at Anna. “How come?”
“Colby is coming for breakfast and—” She sent a warning look in Dorrie’s direction.
“Sure. We’re going to finish reading this book, aren’t we, Dorrie?”
Dorrie babbled something, pointing at one of the pictures and Anna hurried out, grateful for Alex’s understanding.
Knowing Dorrie would be safe from Colby for a bit longer, her heart grew lighter and she sang the words to one of Issac Watt’s hymns, “Alas! and did my Savior bleed?” as she fried more potatoes and eggs and sliced more bread.
She could protect Dorrie. Thank you, God.
The cross had been saved. Thank God.
And thank Colby? a fragile voice whispered.
She’d thanked him. Even invited him to breakfast against her better judgment. And she’d thank him good and proper…
When he waved goodbye as he rode from town, leaving them in peace.
Colby tapped on the door then stepped inside and quietly sat at the table. Father poured them coffee. Colby glanced past her as if searching for Dorrie.
She sent him a look intended to inform him he could eat at her table, rescue the cross she attached sentimental value to, maybe even renew bits and pieces of their old friendship, but he needn’t expect her to let him see Dorrie if she could help it.
She wouldn’t stand by and let him gaze at the child with the longing and sadness she’d seen last night.
“Mama.” Dorrie raced into the room, Alex hot on her heels.
“She wouldn’t stay.” He sent Colby a curious look before he ducked his head,
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