Claiming the Cowboy's Heart

She patted his shoulder. “I think he wasn’t the only one who felt helpless. I think you did, too.”

He nodded. Held her gaze. Maybe she understood because of her own helpless feeling of watching her fiancé die. “The doctor said there were new treatments. Some patients had been having good success with manipulation of the paralyzed limbs. I would do anything to help my pa so I arranged to hire one of these people who do that. A man by the name of Crawford would care for my pa for a price, and put him through the exercises. In order to pay for his services, I joined a cattle drive. I paid him what I could up front and promised to deliver the rest at the end of the drive.”

“Surely a day or two won’t change that.”

“I don’t know. Our agreement was for three months but our drive ran into trouble crossing the Oldman River. Crawford drove a hard bargain. I sent a letter a few days ago saying I’d be there in a week. I don’t expect he’ll give me much leeway in my arrival time.” He sat up on his elbows and checked for his boots. They were there but his pants and shirt were missing. Never mind them. Eddie would find his clothes in the saddlebags. “I need to get there. I don’t want to put my pa’s health at risk. But more than that, I want to see for myself how Pa is.”

“You said he was all you have left. Your ma is dead?”

He nodded. “She passed away a few years ago.” She’d been ill a few days before he’d gone away on a job but she assured him she was fine. “Go on and do what you need to do,” she’d said. “I’ll be here when you get back.” She’d been there sure enough. In a pine box. He shouldn’t have left her knowing she’d been ill. Pa said he didn’t realize she was so sick. Seth knew even if he had, Pa wouldn’t have sought medical help. He didn’t think doctors had anything to offer. If Seth had been there he would have taken her to a doctor. She might still be alive.

“I’m sorry about your mother and I respect your anxiety about your father but it seems to me you better let your leg stop bleeding so you can get on your way without fear of dying on the trail.” She shuddered. “This is all my fault.”

No getting around that fact and yet he wanted to reassure her. But what could he say? “It was an accident.” His words offered little comfort to her and certainly didn’t provide an excuse in his mind. Accidents were usually the result of foolhardy choices and as such could, with a little common sense, be prevented.

“If I could ride I would deliver your money myself. I’d make sure your pa was cared for in the best possible way. I’d do it myself.”

Seth held back a protest. But he wasn’t sure she was the kind of person he’d send to care for his pa.

Fire filled her eyes. “See, that’s what’s wrong with being helpless. I need to learn to ride like a Western woman.”

He chuckled. “It’s a long ride for anyone not used to the saddle.” She’d be off the horse and leading it before she’d gone twenty miles. The idea tickled him clear to his toes.

She smoothed the sheet over him then poured a cup of water and offered it. Her cool fingers brushed his. Such fine, soft fingers. Evidence that she’d led a privileged life. Hardly the sort of woman to shoot a gun, or ride a horse, or do many of the things required of women in the west. Yet she seemed determined. And some things she needed to know, like starting a fire in the stove, or practical things like that, but where was her common sense? Even if she thought she needed to know how to shoot a gun, there was a reasonable way to do it and a bullheaded way. His leg was evidence that she’d chosen the latter, unwilling to bide her time for proper instruction.

He knew the risks of people who didn’t listen to common sense. He lived daily with the consequence. He scrubbed at his chin, vaguely aware he needed a shave.

“Linette said if your wound was still bleeding you should continue to rest. You have lost a lot of blood already. I don’t know how much a person has to lose.” She shuddered. “Seems like a lot.”

He wondered if she meant Oliver. Had she watched him bleed to death?

She sucked in air and appeared to dismiss whatever thoughts shivered up and down her spine. “She says she’ll provide you a tray so you can eat in bed.”

“Eat in bed? No way. Only invalids and weak women take their meals in bed.” He was neither.

“That’s just your pride speaking. If it means your leg would stop bleeding, shouldn’t you be willing to do it so you can resume your journey?” She sounded so reasonable that he felt like a small child having a pout.

“Very well. I’ll take supper in bed.” He held up his hand to make sure she understood. “But only this once so my leg will stop bleeding.”

She patted his shoulder. “One meal in bed won’t make you a permanent invalid.”

How could he protest when she sounded so reasonable? Pride was a foolish emotion that he had never struggled with before, and now it had reared its ugly head. He didn’t like it.

“I’ll be back later. Try and rest.” She slipped from the room.

He stared at the ceiling. He curled and uncurled his fingers and lay as still as possible, willing the bleeding to stop. Only common sense kept him in this bed. Like Jayne said, he didn’t want to die at the side of the trail. That would not help Pa. But being sensible had never before been so hard.

Please make the bleeding stop. Help me get there in time. He didn’t know if God had a mind to listen to a prayer from a cowboy with little faith. God sure hadn’t listened to any prayer from him in the past, but Ma had often counseled him to “cast all your cares on God.” He’d done little of it in the past but he was powerless at the moment to do anything else. Guess he had nothing to lose by casting.

Maybe he should ask for a hedge around Jayne while he was at it. Seems she’d need divine protection, as would everyone around her if she meant to blindly pursue her own plans despite the risks.

Seemed to him people should consider the dangers involved before they blindly followed their own path.

Chapter Three

Jayne paused outside the door to Seth’s room to adjust the tray on which she’d placed soup, buttered bread, pudding and tea. It was heavier than she expected and hard to balance as she turned the knob. Never before had she realized how skilled the serving maids were to carry on one hand trays piled high with dishes. How did they do it?

“I brought you tea. Supper,” she corrected herself as she then stepped inside the room. She positioned the tray over his legs. She plucked another pillow from the shelf and reached around to tuck it at his back. Their faces were inches apart. His eyes flashed pine green and held her gaze so she couldn’t jerk away. Her heartbeat fluttered in her throat like she’d swallowed a tiny butterfly and it was trying to get free. Her cheeks grew warm. Why was she staring into the eyes of a stranger? And why did it cause such an odd reaction?

From somewhere deep inside, her upbringing exerted itself. She finished adjusting the pillows so he could sit up enough to eat and stepped back, her hands folded at her waist.

“Linette is going to check on your wound after you’ve eaten. She has something that will stop the bleeding. She got it from an Indian woman in the area.” She rattled on, not allowing herself a chance to consider her silly behavior.

He tasted the soup. “This is very good. Sure beats the beans and biscuits I’ve lived on for the last few days.”

“I’ll tell Linette you like it. I’m learning to cook, too. Linette says it’s not difficult. She came out west last fall and had to learn the hard way.”

“The hard way?”

“By trial and error.” She chuckled as she thought of Linette’s stories. At Seth’s questioning look, she said, “She didn’t know how to bake bread and tried to bury the lump of failed dough in a snowbank but Eddie found her doing it.” Baking bread was another thing to add to her list. “And she didn’t know how to cook beans and served them hard. I don’t know any of those things, either, but I will learn.”

“Far more practical than shooting guns.”

“Did your ma know how to shoot?”

He considered her. “Well, now I suppose she did though I don’t recall her ever doing so. Why would she when there was Pa and I and—”

She waited for him to finish but he suddenly concentrated on his food. “And?” she prompted.

He shrugged. “And other people. How did you get to the ranch?”

His question, so out of context, caught her by surprise and she answered without thinking. “We crossed the ocean on a ship then took a train, a steamboat and then the stagecoach.”

“You and your two companions?”

“An older couple escorted us as far as Fort Benton. Why do you ask?”

“Because you talk like you are helpless yet I think it took a great deal of guts and ability to navigate that trip.”

She stared at him. No one—not even she—had acknowledged that it had been a challenge. “I learned a lot.”

“And maybe discovered you could do more than you thought you could.”

“Maybe.” She handed him his tea. His words echoed in her head. Could she do more than she thought she could? She intended to find out on this visit to the ranch. Funny that it had taken a stranger, a victim of her ineptitude, to point out something she’d overlooked.

“Thank you.” She ducked her head at the surprised look he shot her way.

“For what?”