Linda Ford

The Cowboy's Baby


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doing anything wrong. She was a preacher’s daughter who carefully lived a circumspect life. And if she ever missed the expectations of her role by so much as a hair there were plenty of people who would point it out to her. “I was only seeing if there was a way to salvage it.” She lifted her skirts and descended the steps. “Obviously I am being foolishly sentimental. Might as well burn it and put up a new cross.” As she hurried down the aisle, she struggled to control this unfamiliar indignation.

      She marched across the yard and into the house. There wasn’t time to dwell on her unexpected reaction to Colby. She planned to finish the quilt tonight and deliver it as soon as possible. Thankfully the evenings had been warm enough of late, but if they had a cold, damp spell the Andersons would be hard-pressed to keep warm with the few things they’ve been given.

      Anna paused as she sewed the edging on. She thought of how close she had come to sharing Hazel Anderson’s situation. The fire had been within inches… She shuddered. Life was so uncertain.

      She jabbed the needle through the layers of the quilt with unusual vigor. Father might feel charitable toward Colby Bloxham. But all she felt was an enormous need to get the man on his way as soon as humanly possible before he upset her life. Again.

      She needed divine help and paused to bow her head. Our Father in heaven, be so kind as to put Your mighty hand on the man’s back and move him onward. Before he turns my world upside down and my heart inside out. Again.

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