Claiming the Cowboy's Heart

Jayne pressed to Mrs. Gardiner’s side. She gasped as she saw the wound. She looked at Seth, her eyes wide as she met his gaze. Whether he saw distress, regret or something else entirely, he couldn’t hazard a guess.

“It was unintentional.” She sounded so defensive that in spite of his pain and the awkwardness of being flat on his back with two women in the room, he grinned.

“Seems you should have tended it a little sooner,” Mrs. Gardiner offered.

“Got someplace to be.” Again urgency gripped his innards. The last letter from the caregiver, that one Seth picked up a few days ago at the ranch headquarters, had been dated three weeks ago and gave little information to ease Seth’s concern about Pa’s well-being. Expecting you soon with necessary wages. Job here done.

How could a man give so little assurance in his few words? Seth needed to get to Pa before Crawford left. Might be he was already gone. He’d signed up for three months and no more. If he wasn’t there, who would be looking after Pa? The uncertainty burned the inside of Seth’s stomach.

Mrs. Gardiner tsked.

“Is he going to be okay?” Jayne asked. Her eyes filled with concern. And well they might. She’d shot him.

“We’ll fix you as well as we can,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “But you’re going to have to be careful you don’t get an infection.” She turned to Jayne. “You can clean it up.” She gave instructions.

He closed his eyes to endure the pain that would surely come from having the wound tended.

At first her touch was tentative then it grew firm, more assured. She was gutsy. He’d give her that.

“Why is it so important for you to learn to shoot?” His voice sounded hoarse. He hoped they’d put it down to some strong virtue, not the pain that seemed to clutch every part of his body.

“I need to be able to defend myself and others if the need ever again arises.”

He lifted his eyelids. “Again?” He ignored the pain as he eased up on his elbows to watch her.

“You best lie still.” She pressed firm, damp hands to his shoulders. “Moving makes you bleed more.” Her face was so close to his he could see the porcelain purity of her skin, the dark streaks of brown in her irises and something more—the determination in her gaze. He was beginning to think she was a headstrong woman who gave little heed to the results of her actions. Just the sort of woman he normally gave a wide berth to. For now, though, he must submit to her ministrations.

He sank back on the pillow. “You’ve been involved in gunplay before?”

“Only as a spectator. I saw someone shot to death.” Her jaw muscles tightened. “And I did nothing to prevent it because I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t even know how to shoot a gun.” Her gaze had shifted to a distant place beyond the walls of this room. “That’s when I decided I would never again be a helpless, pampered woman.” She gave a decisive nod. “I will learn to shoot a gun and be ready and able to defend myself and those I care about.” Her voice rang with determination. “Nothing will stop me.”

Seth watched her warily. He knew the folly of insisting on doing foolish acts. Good thing he would be leaving here in a matter of hours. He wouldn’t be around to see the result of her decision. But pity poor Eddie Gardiner trying to keep a rein on his sister.

He hoped for both their sakes that the job wasn’t too much for the man.

If he had time to spare he might offer to help with the task simply to prevent a worse disaster than having her shoot some innocent passerby in the leg. But thankfully he didn’t have time. Because for a man like him who took his responsibilities seriously, this was the sort of woman who spelled a heap of trouble.

Chapter Two

The ragged edges of the wound were covered with dirt and blood. As she cleaned it, fresh blood oozed out and thickened into globs. Jayne swallowed hard, holding back nausea. She’d never taken care of an injured person. Never even entered a sick room. But she would take care of this injured man. It was her responsibility, no matter how tight her lungs grew or how hard her pulse banged behind her eyes.

“Take the wet cloth and sponge away more of the dirt,” Linette said.

She dabbed at the dirt and allowed herself a moment of satisfaction. Another step on her journey to move beyond a pampered young lady who couldn’t take care of herself or help others.

“You need to scrub a little harder to get the dried stuff,” Linette said.

She rinsed the cloth clean and tackled the job again. When she’d finished the area around the wound, she turned to Linette. “What about the blood?”

“Clean right to the edges.” Linette leaned past Jayne’s shoulder to inspect the job. “Good. You’ve got it nice and clean. Now we need to use antiseptic on it.” Linette handed her a small container marked carbolic acid.

“Won’t it hurt?” she whispered to Linette.

“For a moment or two. But it’s necessary.”

Jayne turned to Seth. Knowing whatever pain he endured was her fault tore at her innards. “I’m going to use antiseptic. Linette says it might sting.”

Gritting her teeth at what she must do, she splashed the carbolic in the wound.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the bed. His eyes caught and held hers. The dark, pain-filled look brushed a tender spot inside her.

“I’m sorry.” Her hands trembled as she set aside the bottle.

Sweat covered his brow.

She grabbed a towel from the stack nearby and dabbed at his forehead, which provided her plenty of opportunity to study him. He was big. She’d noticed that as he’d hobbled up the stairs at Eddie’s side. He had a thatch of dark—almost black—hair in need of a good combing. His hazel eyes, although clouded with pain, held her gaze in a steady grip.

She turned from her musing as Linette handed her dressing material. As she placed a pad over his wound and wrapped strips to secure it, she was aware of him watching her and longed for words to assure him she had nothing but his well-being in mind.

“I truly regret that you must suffer for my ineptness.”

“You’re doing fine.” The hoarse words grated on her heart.

She’d meant shooting him, but he’d taken it to mean her ministrations. “I’m doing my best.”

“I’ll get you a clean shirt,” Linette said. “Yours could do with a good scrubbing.” She slipped from the room.

Jayne turned to meet Seth’s gaze. “I very much regret that I am responsible for your pain.”

He studied her for a moment. “Who did you see shot to death?”

His question jolted through her, bringing all the memories of that day forward in a flash. “My fiancé, Oliver.” She twisted the towel she held, knotting her fingers into the material.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He lifted his hand and caught her fingers. His hand was large, work-hardened and steadying.

She tore her gaze from their linked hands and stared into his eyes. Her imagination read a dozen things into his gaze—comfort, concern, perhaps even the offer of protection.

She jerked her eyes away and stepped back from the bed to hang the towel over the back of the chair. The last thing she wanted was to be taken care of by anyone. “I’ll be fine on my own.” Her words were firm, almost as if daring him to think otherwise.

“No doubt you shall.” He sounded dismissive. And why not? He had no reason to concern himself with her and she didn’t want it.

Linette returned with a clean shirt and helped Seth slip out of his dirty one. “It’s a spare. Eddie has gone to tend your horse and get your things,” Linette said. “In the meantime rest and allow the bleeding to stop. We’ll be back in a bit to see if it has.”

Jayne followed Linette down the stairs and into the kitchen. She glanced about and let out a relieved sigh when she saw Sybil and not Eddie. She did not want to face her brother and once more insist she meant to do certain things that he might not consider appropriate for a proper, genteel young lady fresh from England. His concern about her behavior was at such odds with the free rein he gave Linette. He didn’t protest her doing all sorts of things Father would have objected to. Perhaps that was the difference. He didn’t have to answer to Father for Linette’s actions.

She dumped out the red-tinted water. No doubt Father would be shocked that she’d dirtied her hands in such a fashion. But with or without the approval of the men in her family, she meant to be more than a pretty fixture in some fancy house. She’d prove she was capable, though she wondered if anyone would ever believe it. Eddie didn’t think she needed to learn to protect herself because someone else would do it. Not many years past, her father didn’t think there was any reason for her to continue her studies because once she was married, Oliver would expect her to run his home and provide him with children. Other than that, she’d sit around the house doing needlework and looking content, eager for nothing more than for her husband to return and favor her with a smile.

As for Oliver, well, she’d proven she was of no use to him.