Free The Cowboy's Baby by Linda Ford Page A

reading. Father had gone to visit. Anna felt the need for some fresh air and stepped into the yard, letting the warm evening wrap around her. A hauntingly, achingly beautiful tune filled the air. One of the hymns they’d sung on Sunday. She tipped her head toward the sound. Drawn by an invisible, melodic thread she followed it across the yard, past the ashes of the fire and in the back door of the church.
    Colby sat on the front pew, his black-clad legs stretched straight out. He cupped his hands to his mouth playing a mouth organ. The sound encircled her. She’d only once before heard one played and that was for bouncy camp tunes. He played hymns, the pace much faster than one would sing, making the words dance through her head in a frenzy of joy.
    He saw her and paused. “Am I bothering you?”
    “No.” She wasn’t bothered so much as enticed to hear more. “I never heard you play one of those before.”
    “Something I picked up on my travels. I’m trying to learn the hymns you played.”
    “You’re welcome to borrow one of the hymnals.”
    “Can’t read music. I only hear it.”
    “Play some more.”
    His gaze stayed on her as he lowered his head and played the song that had drawn her over.
    Something fragile as morning mist, soft as Dorrie’s baby skin, hovered just outside her heart, reminding her of what they had once shared—how their hearts had beat to the same music, how their dreams had merged into one, how—
    How he’d left.
    She forced away the earlier feelings even though the action left her feeling lonesome.
    He stopped before the end of the hymn. “I don’trecall the rest.” He shifted his gaze toward the piano. “Would you mind playing it for me so I can learn it?”
    Glad of something rational to do, she took her place on the bench.
    “Play it all so I can be sure I got it right.”
    She began to play. Before she’d played two bars, he joined. She’d never made music with anyone else. Most times she couldn’t even find someone to accompany her when she sang a solo in church. To have someone to share this love flooded her heart with joy and uncovered secret, lonely places she hadn’t even known existed.
    When he faltered, she played the ending over for him. He got it right immediately and sat back, grinning. “Thank you.”
    Her smile filled with pleasure. “I enjoyed it.”
    His gaze searched hers, looking deep into her heart, as if seeing things that had grown and developed since the last time they had been open and honest with each other.
    She let her thoughts grow and expand, knew they filled her eyes even as they filled her heart. She was being more honest with him at this moment than she had been since his return.
    They had often sat in this very building as she practiced the piano. She’d told him how she loved music and hoped someday to play as well as Rose.Shyly she’d shared how the words and music spoke to her.
    “Would you mind singing it as I play so I can hear the words inside my head?”
    His voice seemed to come from a long tunnel, taking its time to reach her brain.
    She jerked away and turned back to the piano keys. She must guard her heart. And thoughts. Hadn’t she learned that lesson already?
    So she played. He played. And she sang.
    And despite her constant mental warnings, she let the music wash over her, numb her caution. She knew a height of pleasure so new and unfamiliar she didn’t even know what to call it.
    It was the music. That was all. Nothing more.
    He stopped. “Wait. What was that last phrase?” He joined her on the piano bench so he could read the words himself.
    She repeated the tune and they sang together. They finished the hymn. She paused, her hands in her lap. He grinned at her, his eyes sparkling with what she could only describe as pure, unfettered joy. Entangled in the music, she let his smile slip right past her reservations straight to her heart where it stirred together enjoyment and bliss into a surprisingly, delightful