from when I used to come here.”
Did he remember the way their hearts had seemed to beat a common song, finding so many things they both enjoyed, almost able to read each other’s thoughts? Obviously it had meant more to her than him or he wouldn’t have found it so easy to leave.
Why had he bothered to come back?
She fully believed he would leave again. He always left. The peace she had achieved drained out the bottom of her soul, leaving her edgy and unsettled.
“You sing them like they mean something real. I enjoyed it. You play even better than I remember.”
People seldom commented on her playing unless she made a mistake. To hear words of praise melted a layer of her defensiveness.
“I envy you. Your life has always been filled with God’s word, and songs such as these.” Regret seemed to fill the crevices of his face.
His words gave her pause. Did he remember she’d told him God didn’t care where they came from, only whether or not they were willing to allow His love into their lives? Basically, since his return, she’d been denying her belief in that truth and guilt burned through her. But it couldn’t get past the hard shell she’d forged around her emotions. She’d trusted him too often and too easily and she wouldn’t be doing it again.
“Yes, I’ve been blessed. I know that.”
She wasn’t about to dispute the beauty of the hymns, nor discuss the benefits of her upbringing, something else she could not dispute.
It took a concerted effort to pull her gaze away from his, which seemed so endless, so hungry, so—she jerked her attention to the scarred wall at the back of the platform.
“I’ll get out of your way so you can get to work.” As she hurried to the house she wondered where he’d been when she first entered the church.
It wasn’t until the door closed behind her that she wished she’d confronted him about Dorrie. What were his intentions? Was he about to snatch the child from her? At the idea, she moaned deep inside, beyond sound, beyond reason.
Chapter Six
C olby watched fine people in their fine clothes climb the outside wooden steps to the room above the saloon. He didn’t own a suit or anything remotely like it. He wore the best of what he had— a new white shirt he’d purchased at the mercantile and his best pair of black trousers, brushed clean. But it didn’t seem quite fitting. He felt more like his father’s son than a changed man and fell back into the shadow of the mercantile store as he tried to decide if he would climb the steps or walk away and find something else to do with his time— something more fitting for a Bloxham.
Trouble was—he didn’t know what a Bloxham determined to be different would do on a sunny Sunday morning apart from going to church like all decent people did.
Would the decent folk think he should be in their meeting place? Or would they think he fit better in the room below?
He brushed away a persistent fly and continued to watch people arrive.
A family hurried up the sidewalk, a man with a little boy in his arms and a young woman carrying a baby.
His heart bucked once before he tamed it. Family. Like he and Anna had both dreamed of. Would it ever be possible for him?
The man noticed him and headed over, his hand extended. “Carl Klaus.” He waited for Colby to give his name and when he did, Carl nodded. “Welcome. Why don’t you go up with us?”
His wife came to his side. “I’m Laura, Carl’s wife. These are our children, Adam and Gloria. Perhaps you remember me. I’m Anna’s friend. Have been since we were children.”
Colby nodded a greeting, his hat gripped awkwardly in his fists. He remembered Laura hanging about when he was younger. Never paid her much attention. Guess he never really saw anyone but Anna and her family. They had been his whole world.
He wondered that Laura’s friendship with Anna didn’t make her a little less welcoming.
Wheezy organ music began.
“We better hurry,” Karl said,
Did he remember the way their hearts had seemed to beat a common song, finding so many things they both enjoyed, almost able to read each other’s thoughts? Obviously it had meant more to her than him or he wouldn’t have found it so easy to leave.
Why had he bothered to come back?
She fully believed he would leave again. He always left. The peace she had achieved drained out the bottom of her soul, leaving her edgy and unsettled.
“You sing them like they mean something real. I enjoyed it. You play even better than I remember.”
People seldom commented on her playing unless she made a mistake. To hear words of praise melted a layer of her defensiveness.
“I envy you. Your life has always been filled with God’s word, and songs such as these.” Regret seemed to fill the crevices of his face.
His words gave her pause. Did he remember she’d told him God didn’t care where they came from, only whether or not they were willing to allow His love into their lives? Basically, since his return, she’d been denying her belief in that truth and guilt burned through her. But it couldn’t get past the hard shell she’d forged around her emotions. She’d trusted him too often and too easily and she wouldn’t be doing it again.
“Yes, I’ve been blessed. I know that.”
She wasn’t about to dispute the beauty of the hymns, nor discuss the benefits of her upbringing, something else she could not dispute.
It took a concerted effort to pull her gaze away from his, which seemed so endless, so hungry, so—she jerked her attention to the scarred wall at the back of the platform.
“I’ll get out of your way so you can get to work.” As she hurried to the house she wondered where he’d been when she first entered the church.
It wasn’t until the door closed behind her that she wished she’d confronted him about Dorrie. What were his intentions? Was he about to snatch the child from her? At the idea, she moaned deep inside, beyond sound, beyond reason.
Chapter Six
C olby watched fine people in their fine clothes climb the outside wooden steps to the room above the saloon. He didn’t own a suit or anything remotely like it. He wore the best of what he had— a new white shirt he’d purchased at the mercantile and his best pair of black trousers, brushed clean. But it didn’t seem quite fitting. He felt more like his father’s son than a changed man and fell back into the shadow of the mercantile store as he tried to decide if he would climb the steps or walk away and find something else to do with his time— something more fitting for a Bloxham.
Trouble was—he didn’t know what a Bloxham determined to be different would do on a sunny Sunday morning apart from going to church like all decent people did.
Would the decent folk think he should be in their meeting place? Or would they think he fit better in the room below?
He brushed away a persistent fly and continued to watch people arrive.
A family hurried up the sidewalk, a man with a little boy in his arms and a young woman carrying a baby.
His heart bucked once before he tamed it. Family. Like he and Anna had both dreamed of. Would it ever be possible for him?
The man noticed him and headed over, his hand extended. “Carl Klaus.” He waited for Colby to give his name and when he did, Carl nodded. “Welcome. Why don’t you go up with us?”
His wife came to his side. “I’m Laura, Carl’s wife. These are our children, Adam and Gloria. Perhaps you remember me. I’m Anna’s friend. Have been since we were children.”
Colby nodded a greeting, his hat gripped awkwardly in his fists. He remembered Laura hanging about when he was younger. Never paid her much attention. Guess he never really saw anyone but Anna and her family. They had been his whole world.
He wondered that Laura’s friendship with Anna didn’t make her a little less welcoming.
Wheezy organ music began.
“We better hurry,” Karl said,
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