by Linda Ford
“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?”
“For making me see that I’m not a helpless, pampered woman.”
He grinned. “I don’t know about pampered. I suspect you are a woman of many privileges but no one has to be helpless unless they choose to be.”
“And I choose otherwise. In the past I have been far too compliant.”
He put his spoon down and considered her solemnly. She considered him right back. “Miss Gardiner—”
“Please, call me Jayne.”
“Jayne, then. There is a vast difference between not being helpless and being foolhardy.”
Her breath stalled halfway up her lungs. She forced her words past the catch in her throat. “Are you saying I’m the latter?” Her words were spoken softly but surely he heard the note of warning.
“What do you think?” But he didn’t give her a chance to say. “Shooting a gun willy-nilly without regard for passersby, without knowing proper safety technique sounds just a little foolish to me. Doesn’t it to you?”
“It sounds to me,” she replied, her tight jaw grinding the words, “like a woman ready and willing to do whatever is required to learn how to take care of herself.” She headed for the door. Then she retraced her steps to face him. “I came here intending to do my best to make your evening pleasant. I meant to bring my friends to visit you.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Too big a job for you to do alone?”
“I think I can handle one lame cowboy.”
“Just like you can handle a gun.”
She pressed her hand to her lips. The man had a way of saying all the wrong things and igniting an irritation that burned away reason. “You know I even thought of reading a book to you so you could rest.” She let out a blast of overheated breath. “But now I believe I will leave you to your own devices. After all, you wouldn’t want the company of a foolish, useless—” Heaven help her, she couldn’t stop her voice from quivering and stopped to get control of her emotions. “Silly woman.” She hurried toward the door.
He was just like her father and her brother and, come to think of it, Oliver. None of them saw her as having any useful purpose other than to grace their table, encourage them whether or not she agreed with them and do nothing to upset the status quo.
Well, they could all look for that kind of woman somewhere else. She would no longer be such a person.
She didn’t need any of them to help her achieve her goals.
Seth’s voice reached her before she made it down three steps. “Miss Gardiner, Jayne, please come back. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Ignoring his call, she returned to the kitchen where the others had cleaned up the dishes from the meal.
“How is he?” Linette asked.
“Anxious to be on his way.”
“Is his wound still bleeding?”
“I didn’t check. I said you would do it.”
“Of course.” Linette went to the pantry and returned with a small leather pouch. “I’ll take this along in case I need it.” She headed for the stairs. “Aren’t you coming?”
Jayne shook her head. “I don’t think he needs two females fussing about him.” Especially one he considered foolish. His words continued to sting.
Mercy draped an arm about her shoulders. “What happened?”
Jayne gave a tight smile. “What makes you think anything did?”
“Because I know that look. Right, Sybil?”
Sybil moved to Jayne’s other side. “Was he rude to you? Inappropriate? I knew you shouldn’t have gone up there alone.”
“He wasn’t rude or inappropriate.”
“Then what?” Mercy demanded.
“He said I was foolish to want to learn to shoot. Said there were lots of people around to take care of me.” He hadn’t exactly said that but it was implied. “He seems to think I’m a threat to everyone’s safety because of my desire to know how to handle a firearm.”
Mercy choked back a chuckle. “I suppose he might have cause to think so.”
“I’ll be more careful in the future.”
Sybil sighed. “I do wish you’d give up this idea but you are far too stubborn to do so.”
“I’m not stubborn. I’m—I’m resolved.” She liked that word much better. “I am resolved to never again feel helpless in the face of danger. To never again feel useless when something needs doing. Why, I might even learn to ride astride like Mercy plans. Just think of the things I could do.” She could offer to ride to Seth’s pa with the money. Of course she would never do such a thing. Despite Seth’s very harsh opinion of her she understood some things simply weren’t safe for a woman, like riding alone across the prairie.
Linette descended the stairs, carrying the tray. “I think that will stop the bleeding so the poor man can get on his way. Jayne, he asked that you keep him company for a few hours. I would do it myself but Grady needs to get ready for bed.” Grady was the five-year-old-boy Linette had become guardian of after his mother died on
the ship to Canada. Originally she meant to leave him with his father in Montreal but the man said he couldn’t take care of a small boy. Jayne’s heart went out to Grady. Imagine having your father turn away from you. Why, it had to be every bit as bad as watching a fiance die from a gunshot wound. At least Grady had Linette and Eddie who loved him and had adopted him.
Jayne’s resentment at Seth’s comments vanished as she thought of how harsh life could be. Besides, she was responsible for his injury.
“Why don’t you two come with me?” she asked her two friends. “I’m sure he’d enjoy your scintillating company.” She didn’t want to be alone with him, provide him with another opportunity to share his opinion of her.
“Sounds like fun.” Mercy steered them down the hall without giving Sybil a chance to voice her opinion.
* * *
Seth stared at the blank white ceiling. Not even a crack so he could make childish pictures in his mind. There were days in his past when he’d thought how pleasant it would be to have nothing to do but lay about. He’d changed his mind in the last few hours. Every ten minutes he decided he’d had enough rest and his leg was well enough for him to move on. After all, it wasn’t like he didn’t have things to do. Important things. But he wasn’t foolish enough to risk his life or limb. Mrs. Gardiner had packed the wound with some kind of powder and said she hoped that would stop the bleeding.
She’d given him a smile. “You could do your part, too, by staying still.”
He meant to do his best to comply.
He grinned at the ceiling. Jayne had taken exception to his suggestion she might be foolish in pursuing her desire to shoot a gun. He’d been careful to add without someone to teach her.
Jayne’s voice came from the stairs and he turned to the door. Another voice answered her. And then a third. He couldn’t hear what was said.
Perhaps she wasn’t coming to see him.
He lifted his head, watching the door. As the footsteps neared, paused, he held his breath.
The door opened. Jayne stepped in, her two friends behind her.
“We’ve come to keep you company,” Mercy said.
Jayne had said Mercy wanted adventure. The way her eyes danced as if she had a secret she couldn’t wait to divulge, he guessed she managed to find her share of excitement wherever she went.
“It’s partly my fault Jayne shot you,” Mercy said. “You see, I was attempting to teach her to shoot the pistol but she closed her eyes. Completely missed the target.”
Sybil shivered. “I tried to warn them it wasn’t a good idea.”
Seth shifted his gaze to her. Jayne had said Sybil wanted to get away from sad memories. There was a darkness in her eyes that spoke of hard times. He recognized it from seeing it in the mirror if he looked hard enough.
Then he brought his gaze to Jayne who hadn’t said anything yet. He wanted to tell her he didn’t mean to hurt her. But he didn’t know how without retracting his words, and he meant them. Foolish choices caused unbearable consequences. He didn’t want her to learn that the hard way.
She shifted her attention to something past his shoulder.
Mercy eased closer. “Tell us about yourself.”
“Not much to tell. I’m just a cowboy who’s finished a cattle drive. But I expect you all have your stories.” Maybe he could get them talking about themselves.
“Tons of them.” Mercy appeared to be the spokeswoman. Sybil looked ill at ease and Jayne looked stubborn. Must be a mule somewhere in her heritage.
Compliant, she said? Not a hope.
“I’m going to learn to ride,” Mercy said.
“Like a man,” Sybil murmured, her voice conveying shock.
“Men are allowed to do all sorts of things that women aren’t. It’s not fair.” Mercy gave another little pout. Then she brightened and gave Seth her attention. “We were talking about you, though.”
He shrugged. “I’m sure you’re far more interesting than I am.” He’d told Jayne about his pa and even his ma. But he didn’t intend to reveal any more. There were some things best left buried in the past. “Tell me about your families. I know Eddie is Jayne’s brother but nothing more.”
“I’m an only child,” Sybil said with a heavy tone.
“It sounds like you regret it.”
She nodded. “I suppose I do. With my parents dead I am all alone except for an elderly cousin.”
Jayne and Mercy pressed close to her on either side. “You have us.”
Sybil smiled and gave a little chuckle. “So I do. One of you set on turning the world upside down.” She nudged Mercy. “And the other bound and determined to shoot her way to forgetfulness.” She patted Jayne’s arm as if to say she meant no harm.
Mercy laughed. “She’s got a way with words, doesn’t she?”
Jayne shifted her gaze about the room until it came hesitantly, and likely reluctantly, to Seth. The way she squinted dared him to point out he had said something similar to Sybil’s words. “It’s not like that at all. I only want to be strong and prepared.”
Sybil patted her arm again. “Of course. We understand.”
Mercy continued to grin at her friend.
Seth jerked his chin slightly hoping she’d understand he had no desire to continue their disagreement.
The look she gave him had the power to start a fire. He tore his gaze from her scowl. “What about your family, Mercy?”
She sobered and got a faraway look in her eyes. “I’m the only living child. I had a brother who died when he was eight.”
“How old were you?”
“Six.”
A lot younger than he had been. Was it any easier at a young age? He couldn’t imagine it was.
“He got sick,” she added, then shook herself and turned to Jayne. “Jayne here is the one with an abundance of family. Tell him.”
“He already knows about Eddie. I also have two younger sisters.”
He nodded encouragement and she continued.
“Bess is almost eighteen and Anne is fifteen.”
“Do you miss them?”
A smile curved her lips. “More than I thought I would. The things with brothers and sisters is you get used to having them around and don’t think about it much then you find yourself turning to speak to them and with a start, you realize they aren’t there.”
She’d so concisely identified how the loss of a sibling felt. He fixed his attention on the ceiling as a distant pain surfaced. Not as strong as it had once been but still pulsing with life. He’d reconciled that it would never die.
Mercy, the bold spokeswoman, broke the silence. “So where are you headed?”
“Corncrib, Montana.”
“Got someone there waiting for you?” She waggled her eyebrows teasingly. “A wife, a girlfriend?”
“Just my pa.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.
“What? You think I look like a man who has a wife?”
Jayne didn’t give Mercy a chance to answer. “His pa is sick.”
Sybil edged closer. “I’m sorry. I suppose you’re anxious to get there and see him.”
He heard her unspoken conclusion that his pa was on the verge of death and set out to correct it. “Pa had a stroke. He’s in the care of a very capable man. But it’s been four months since I’ve seen him. I’m anxious to see how he’s doing. I’m hoping he’s greatly improved.”
Jayne patted his shoulder and for the first time since she’d fled his room upset by his comments, the tension in his neck eased. “I’m sure everything will work out. Doesn’t God promise us that ‘all things work together for good to them that love God’?’”
Her gaze delved deep into his, searching, challenging.
“I know God’s in control of the universe and nature.” He spoke slowly, bringing his thoughts into words. “But I think He expects us to take care of the details ourselves.” He watched Jayne’s expression change as she considered his answer. It went from surprise to denial to confusion.
>
“I think we have to trust Him even when we don’t understand or we don’t possess enough faith,” she said.
Mercy spoke. “I kind of think Seth is right. I mean, why would God bother with little stuff?”
“Oh, no. It’s not like that,” Sybil protested. “He cares about everyone. We have to believe that.”
“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.