Claiming the Cowboy's Heart

“I do believe.” Jayne shook her head. “But sometimes it’s a struggle to feel it, especially when awful things happen.”

“That’s when we need to trust even harder.”

Silence filled the room for a moment after Sybil’s comment. Seth lacked the energy to argue against it.

“We should leave you in peace,” Jayne said and the three of them walked toward the door.

The loneliness of the room lay on his chest like a weight, and fleeting memories clawed at his throat. He didn’t fancy being alone any more than he had to be. “Wait a minute.”

Jayne hung back.

“Do I recall you offering to read to me?” he asked her.

“That was before.”

“Before what?” He knew what she meant but pretended otherwise.

She shrugged. “Before now.”

The other two hovered at the doorway. Mercy nudged Sybil. “Are they talking about the fact he called her foolish?”

Sybil studied Jayne and then Seth. “I suspect so.” Her gaze bored into Seth’s. “Be warned, if you hurt one of us you deal with all of us.”

He held her look steadily for a moment, pretending to be contemplating her warning. But he couldn’t maintain a serious expression as he imagined being pummeled by their girlish punches. He grinned widely. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Good.” Sybil took the girls each by an arm. “We’ll help Jayne pick out some books,” she said as they disappeared out the door.

He settled back, wondering if Jayne would return. He didn’t regret being honest with her but hoped she would get over feeling offended.

She returned in a few minutes with four books. “Which would you like me to read?” She gave the titles.

“The Arabian Nights.”

“You’re familiar with the stories?”

“My father used to read it aloud.” He hadn’t thought of that for years. At one time, Pa would read aloud every night during the winter. Stories of adventure in a different time and place. When had it stopped?

The answer came readily. After Frank’s death.

All day he’d been fighting the memory but could no longer push it aside. He was fourteen, Frank sixteen. Seth’s long-time friend, Sarah, had caught Frank’s attention and the two of them had been acting silly all afternoon. But when Frank teased Sarah to slide on the thin ice of the river, Seth had begged them to be sensible.

“Life is too short to waste on rules and cautions, little brother,” Frank had called as he ran onto the ice and skidded a good distance. “This is fun.”

“Sarah, don’t go. The ice is too thin,” Seth had said, wanting to yank Frank back to safety.

“It’s holding Frank okay.” Ignoring his warning, she’d raced after Frank.

Seth had hovered on the bank, longing to join them but knowing the dangers.

He’d heard the crackling of the fragile ice and called out a warning but Frank and Sarah only laughed and continued their merriment. Then suddenly Frank had broken through the ice. Sarah, chasing after him, had fallen in, too.

A shudder raced through him as the horror of that day returned to his memories. Oh, how he’d tried to erase it from his mind. He’d succeeded in burying it so deep he thought it would never surface. But today proved how futile his hope for forgetfulness was.

Frank and Sarah had screamed Seth’s name. Their panicked voices echoed through his head and he closed his eyes, which did nothing to stop the pictures playing in his head.

He’d grabbed a branch that lay at his feet and raced to where they’d broken through. His feet had moved like lead. His legs had refused to make the speed he wanted. Every yard had seemed an eternity. Sarah had clung to the edge of the ice. He couldn’t see Frank and then he’d bobbed up.

“I’ll get you. Hang on.” He’d flung himself on his belly and wriggled forward, holding out the branch before him. As soon as Sarah could reach it, he’d called out to her to grab it. “Lay as flat as you can. I’ll pull you out.” The ice dipped toward the hole and water crawled toward him. Would they all drown in the murky water? He’d toed himself more firmly in place.

Inch by inch he’d pulled her to shore and threw his coat over her before he went back for Frank.

But Frank had disappeared. Seth called his name over and over. He’d jabbed at the hole. In desperation he’d yanked off his boots and dove into the cold water. The shock had numbed him clear through. He’d opened his eyes underwater, tried to find his brother but saw nothing. The current tugged at him. He’d surfaced before it sucked him away. So cold he could barely function he’d somehow managed to pull himself out of the hole. He didn’t recall getting himself and Sarah to the house. Only the emptiness of returning without Frank. And the shocked look on his parents’ faces.

Frank’s body was found three days later, caught on a log downstream. The same day that Sarah had died of pneumonia.

The emptiness had stayed, a permanent, unwelcome guest that consumed their home. Consumed Ma and Pa, too, and took residence in Seth’s heart.

Never would he forget how he’d failed. He had done all he could but had been unsuccessful in taking care of those he loved.

He realized Jayne was speaking and jerked his thoughts back to the present.

“Eddie read them to me, too, when I was much younger.” She adjusted his pillows, straightened his covers. “Are you comfortable?”

He almost caught her arm as it passed over his chest. If he had something to hang on to he might be able to escape the awfulness of his memories. Instead, he pushed them back, deep inside, and slammed a door to keep them at bay. But like wisps of black fog, the remnants of horror lingered. Sooner or later, he knew, they would dissipate. He steadied his voice. “Reasonably so.”

“Very well.” She drew the chair close and began to read the story of “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves.”

Her voice soothed him, filling him with happy memories of life before Frank had died. He drifted pleasantly on her words. When she finished he couldn’t lift his eyelids, even when he heard her whisper, “Good night,” before she slipped away.

What a crazy couple of days it had been. Shot. Rescued. Cared for by the hands that shot him. No one would ever believe that. It was as if God had played a role in orchestrating it.

God! He couldn’t imagine that God cared one way or the other what happened to Seth or most of the people he met. The Almighty sure hadn’t cared about saving Frank or Sarah from drowning. Or how his death had affected their ma and pa. And even Seth.

But Jayne had suffered a painful loss, too. And she continued to trust God. A smile tugged at his lips. She also fought back, mostly by taking control of life in every possible way—even to shooting a gun, despite the fact no one seemed to care to give her instructions. Except Mercy, and he wondered how valuable her lessons would be. He rubbed at his leg. It didn’t seem she was a very good teacher.

For the safety of everyone within shooting distance, someone should give Jayne lessons.

Chapter Four

Seth wakened as someone stepped into the room. He sat up and stifled a moan at the pain that reminded him why he was in a strange bed in a strange room with a strange man standing at his side. Then his mind cleared and he recognized Eddie.

“Good morning,” Eddie said.

“Morning.” The word croaked from his dry throat and he reached for the cup of water Jayne had left on the table beside him.

“I brought you your things. I was here last night but you were already asleep. Linette wants to check your leg one last time.”

“Thanks.”