Claiming the Cowboy's Heart

But she’d sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, crossed the hills and rivers and mosquito-ridden land of most of North America for the chance to start over. And to be a person who could take care of herself.

“Is he going to live?” Sybil asked.

Before she could reply, Linette spoke up. “He’ll be fine so long as he doesn’t get an infection in his wound.” She turned to Jayne, squeezing her arm. “This might be the perfect thing for you.” Her smile was gentle. “You couldn’t help Oliver but you can help this man. You’ll need to check his dressing in a couple of hours. If the wound stops bleeding he’ll doubtlessly be wanting to leave. But until it does, he needs to keep still.”

Jayne nodded. Linette was right. This was her chance to atone not only for what she’d done to Seth but what she’d failed to do for Oliver.

She’d grabbed his soiled trousers and shirt as they left the room. “I’ll wash these and mend them.” At least she had a certain amount of skill with needle and thread.

“There’s a tub and washboard hanging on the side of the house,” Linette said. “Scrub out the blood in cold water. I’ll heat water so you can give them a good wash.”

She went out to the back step, filled the tub with water and plunged the trousers and shirt into it. Though she’d never used a scrub board, she’d seen maids using one. Mimicking their actions, she rubbed the soiled shirt and pants up and down the ridges.

Mercy came around the corner of the house as she worked. “Do you remember the young cowboy named Cal?”

“I met him the first day when Eddie took us around and introduced us.” Good. With repeated rubbing across the scrub board, the blood came out, staining the water a muddy brown.

“He says he’ll teach me how to ride.”

“You already know how to ride.”

Mercy made a dismissive noise. “Side saddle. I’m going to learn to ride astride.”

Jayne straightened to give Mercy her full attention. “Mercy Newell, have you taken leave of your senses? Your parents will be shocked.”

Mercy’s merry laugh said enough but she spoke her mind, as well. “Who is going to tell them? Besides, I intend to enjoy every opportunity for adventure this trip offers.”

Jayne sighed. It was useless to try and dissuade Mercy. Besides, who was she to say what was safe and proper for anyone? If she were to listen to the voices around her, she would continue to be who she’d always been and she had already decided against that. She returned to scrubbing the clothing.

Mercy studied her for a long, quiet moment. “Why are you washing his clothes? Can’t he take them with him and tend to them himself? I understand he’ll only be here a few hours.” She tipped her head from one side to the other as she studied Jayne. “Does this have something to do with Oliver?”

Jayne didn’t bother trying to hide her shudder. “I shot some poor passing cowboy.” As she talked, something became clear. “But no, this isn’t about Oliver. It’s about me.”

Mercy wrapped an arm about Jayne’s shoulders and drew her close. “You can do it.”

Linette brought out hot water and helped Jayne fill the tub. “Here’s the soap.” At least her sister-in-law understood Jayne’s need to exert more control in her life. From what she’d heard, Linette had much the same desire when she came west. She said her first hurdle had been convincing Eddie she could be a pioneer wife. Her second had been making him understand he needed such.

A few minutes later Jayne had the shirt and pants pegged to the clothesline. They would dry quickly in the warm sunshine with a breeze to aid the process.

* * *

Seth jerked awake as Jayne entered the room. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Only to rest for a few minutes. He’d glanced at his dressing earlier. It had grown pink, which meant he was still bleeding. How much blood had he lost? Enough to make him feel weak. Not a state he liked.

Jayne moved to the side of the bed and folded back the sheet covering his leg. Her eyes softened with concern. “I’ll have to change the dressing. It’s blood soaked.”

He nodded. “Fix it up as best you can. I can’t afford to lie about.”

“What’s your big rush? I thought cowboys came and went and did pretty much as they pleased.” She folded back the dressing as she talked. Her cool fingers on his skin made it possible to ignore the pain as she uncovered his wound.

He sat up on his elbows to study it. “Is there an exit hole?”

“Yes. Linette checked for it earlier.”

He fell back on the pillow. “Well, that’s good news. And the bullet missed the bone.”

“This would never have happened if Eddie would have given me shooting lessons.”

“Why doesn’t he? Seems it would be the wisest thing to do.”

A quick smile curved her lips. “He doesn’t see it that way. Seems he still sees me as his little sister whom he was taught to protect.” She shook her head. “I keep telling him I don’t want to be protected anymore.” Despite the determined tones of her words, her voice remained calm, the English accent soft and soothing. Like the song of a dove.

“How long have you been here?” Then lest she think he meant this room he added, “At the ranch.”

“My friends and I arrived a few days ago. Mercy, Sybil and myself.”

Three unmarried young women in the Northwest Territories. They would draw men from every direction within a hundred-mile radius, if not more. Especially Miss Jayne. The light from the window next to the bed settled in her hair like a net. Brown was such a flat word for the richest color of hair he’d ever seen.

“We left England for various reasons,” she was saying. “Sybil’s parents are both dead and she longed to get away from her memories. Mercy lives for excitement. The whole trip has been one big adventure for her.” She eased his leg up so she could wrap strips of cloth about it. “That ought to take care of it for now.” She stepped back.

Pain pulsed in the wound. He wanted to ask her to press her fingers to the spot. Her touch would ease the hurt. He turned to her, then thought better of his foolishness. “And you came to forget about Oliver.”

Her expression hardened. “I will never forget. Nor do I want to.” She fluttered a hand. “Not that I wouldn’t gladly erase the images from my mind. But I don’t want to forget the helpless feeling I had as I stood back not knowing what to do.” She curled her hands in a gesture that suggested resolve.

Resolve was good but not when it was combined with stubbornness and refusal to listen to wise counsel. And he had already learned enough about Jayne to know in her case, it was. Despite her brother’s warnings she’d gone ahead and shot a gun. Shouldn’t the accidental shooting have persuaded her to abandon her idea of learning to shoot without a proper teacher?

She was a dangerous woman to know or be around. The kind that left others to bear the consequences of her choices. In this instance, he was the unfortunate one to pay for her recklessness. His jaw tightened as he thought of the burden her stubbornness placed on others.

He stared up at the ceiling. “What time is it?”

“Almost supper time.”

He sighed heavily. “I really need to get on the trail.”

“Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“I got a pa who needs me. He’s all I have.”

Her smile softened her expression and made her eyes dance. “He’s expecting you?”

He tried to think how to answer her question. Yes, Pa was expecting him, though not likely with the generous welcome she appeared to imagine.

Taking his silence for denial of her question, her eyebrows rose. “You’re planning a surprise? How nice. How long since you’ve seen each other?”

“Not exactly a surprise, though he isn’t likely expecting me. I joined a cattle drive four months ago and haven’t seen him since.”

Sympathy darkened her eyes. “Well, then of course you’re anxious to see him, but will a day or two make any difference? Especially if your leg needs the rest?”

“It’s not just my pa.” Shoot, he might as well tell the whole story. “My pa had a stroke five months ago. It left him crippled on one side and barely able to speak.” As he talked the memory of the situation tightened his throat. “I will never forget finding him alone and helpless.”