Claiming the Cowboy's Heart (16 page)

“What are you going to feed it? How are you going to keep it safe from predators? You’ll end up regretting this when you have to watch him die.”

She gave him a look that ought to make his insides burn with shame. “I am not so foolish as to think I can guarantee he’ll live but I intend to give him a chance. Are you going to help me or not?”

He studied her then sighed. His expression full of regret, he wrapped his arms under the fawn and lifted it to his chest, murmuring calming sounds when the creature struggled.

She didn’t care if he helped willingly or not. She meant to help the little creature.

Smokey trotted at their heels as they retraced their steps. Jayne scooped up her bag as they passed through the clearing and walked at Seth’s side.

Seth held the fawn’s legs so it couldn’t kick. They rushed past the house and down the hill to the barn.

“Whatcha’ got?” Billy called as he saw them.

At the sound of a voice, the fawn struggled.

“I told ya,” Seth mumbled to her. “Curious children.”

Jayne turned aside and went to Billy. “We have an injured fawn that is very frightened. Would you make sure none of the children come to the barn until we have it settled down?”

The boy’s chest expanded. “I sure can.” Then he grew curious again. “Then we can see him?”

“If the fawn is feeling well enough,” she replied. Seth went into the barn and she hurried after him.

He was in the far pen. He’d put the fawn in a bed of sweet hay. Smokey curled up beside the animal.

Seth knelt at the fawn’s side. “Eddie has dressings in a box in the tack room. Can you bring it here?”

Tack room? She wasn’t sure what he meant but she raced down the alley. A little room held saddles, harnesses and an assortment of horse items. She opened a cupboard on the wall and saw a box of bandages and a tin of something. Likely an ointment Eddie used on his horses. She scooped up the box and raced back to Seth’s side.

“Hold his front legs while I look at this cut.”

She folded the fawn’s leg back as Seth showed her and watched his big hands gently examine the fawn’s back leg.

“It doesn’t look too bad.” He cleaned it, applied smelly ointment from the tin then wrapped a dressing around it.

“Let him go.”

She did and the fawn struggled to its feet. It ran into the corner and tried to hide but all it could do was press its nose into the boards.

Smokey followed and purred around the tiny legs. The fawn seemed to forget Seth and Jayne were there and turned its attention to the cat.

Seth leaned close to whisper in Jayne’s ear. “Smokey has found a new best friend.”

She nodded. Tears were too close to the surface for her to speak. They couldn’t save the doe. She understood that. But somehow, being able to help the fawn made her feel as if life sometimes made sense.

“What are you going to feed it?” Seth asked.

She faced him. “Why, I have no idea. What do you suggest?”

His expression was soft as if he, too, had found some healing in helping the fawn. “I suppose we could try bottle feeding it. Or maybe it’s big enough for grass and oats.” He eased to his feet, slowly backed from the pen so as not to frighten the fawn. “I’ll go get some and see.”

She followed him and helped pull grass. He trotted to the oat bin and scooped out a handful of oats. He paused to fill a bucket with water. They returned to the pen and put the feed down. The fawn wouldn’t move with them there so they backed out, closed the gate and tiptoed away then turned to watch. The fawn nosed at the grass. Ate a few mouthfuls. Ducked his nose into the water.

“Maybe he’s not hungry,” Jayne said.

“I think you’ll have to bottle feed him.”

“But—”

“It’s not that hard. Though I’m not sure who would have a baby bottle.”

“I’ll ask Linette.” She trotted up the hill and explained her need to Linette.

“I think there is a bottle in the things the Arnesons left.” She’d heard the story of the family who sought shelter with Linette and Eddie as they fought a fever. They died under Linette’s care. Her admiration for her sister-in-law grew as she realized how difficult it would be to watch people die.

Linette took her to a room upstairs and found a bottle complete with a nipple. She gave Jayne milk from the supply in the house and warmed it for her. Along with a warning that wild things often didn’t take to being helped.

“Seth said the same but like I told him, I have to try.” Calling out her thanks, she hurried back to the barn where Seth watched the fawn and cat in the stall. Smokey licked the fawn, which seemed to calm it.

“I’ve got an idea,” she said as they entered the stall and the fawn bolted to its feet. She handed the bottle to Seth and scooped up Smokey then sat against the wall. She crossed her legs and put Smokey in her lap. “Bring the fawn.”

He picked up the fawn and knelt in front of Jayne. He positioned the fawn so it sat with its head almost touching Smokey then offered the bottle.

At the first taste of milk, the fawn jerked back and fought. Seth let it struggle a moment then again stuck the nipple in its mouth. This time it swallowed a mouthful.

Smokey stretched up and rubbed her head against the fawn’s head. She smelled the milk and licked the fawn’s muzzle to capture the drips. The fawn calmed. After a few false starts the little thing managed to figure out how to take milk from the bottle.

Jayne beamed at Seth. “We might be able to save this little one.”

His eyes were soft green and full of hope. “Maybe.”

Maybe the fawn would be a source of healing for both of them. She could save something instead of standing helplessly by without taking any action. He could accept that some risks were worth taking.

Was this what the women meant when they said bad things had a place in life, bringing blessings in their wake?

“This morning I asked the women how they explained God’s love when bad things happen. They all said good often came from bad. Or at least they can be used for our good.”

He considered her words. “We can use bad things for our good. I like that. But is it something we do, or God does?”

Jayne contemplated his question. She liked how he pushed her to think about serious things. “I’d have to say I think it’s both. God can use it but we have to cooperate.”

“I like that, too.” He smiled. “Like getting shot. That’s a bad thing. But it’s allowed me to meet you and a very smart cat.” Smokey meowed.

His eyes darkened to deep green as he smiled at her.

She couldn’t tear herself from his gaze. Couldn’t think of a rational thing to say as her heart leapt within her chest. Something shifted inside her. A thought sang through her head, echoing what Grace had said.
I’d go through it again if it brought us together.
She realized how foolish were her thoughts. How far from reality…even possibility.

She jerked her eyes free and stared down at the fawn, who had stopped struggling, and drew in a deep, steadying breath. Seth was only the cowboy she’d shot. He was here only because he felt a responsibility to make sure she didn’t shoot someone else. He couldn’t wait to leave.

And yet he’d said he was glad to have met her. Maybe he only meant because it gave him a chance to give her shooting lessons. Seems his biggest concern was to avoid another accident.

She stared at his hands cradling a tiny fawn and feeding it milk from a bottle. No, he hadn’t exactly said he was glad. Simply that his being shot had allowed him to meet her.

So what did he mean?

She stole a glimpse from under the protection of her eyelashes. His expression gave no clue. She sighed. She was simply a responsibility to him.

The fawn tossed its head. Seth released it to run to the corner and Smokey meandered over to join it.

Jayne scrambled to her feet.

She didn’t want to be a responsibility. She wanted—

She didn’t know what she wanted. Fresh air and sunshine would do at the moment and she rushed out of the barn and stared into the cornflower-blue sky.

Would anyone ever view her as capable? A person to be valued?

And protected? asked a little voice.

Was it possible to have both?

She didn’t know and her inner turmoil left her restless.

Chapter Eleven

S
eth tidied the little pen where he’d put the fawn. He hadn’t had a chance to ask Eddie if he minded. If he objected, Seth would find another place for him. Now that he’d started caring for the fawn, he meant to do his best to see the animal survived.

He put away the vet supplies Jayne had brought him. Why had he said that meeting her was a good thing? The words had come to his mouth without forethought. But now that they were spoken, he had to consider them.

Was meeting her a good thing?

He tried to think how it wasn’t and smiled when he couldn’t come up with one reason.

Except the one he’d started with. His responsibility was to care for his pa. No doubt most people would think he could do that and pursue a friendship—or more—with Jayne.

Not that he didn’t consider the possibility. If she would let him, he would offer her protection. But she didn’t want that.

Jayne was headstrong. Determined. Seeking independence.

Seth had had his share of dealing with headstrong people who left him to carry on in their wake.

He had nothing to offer her but some shooting lessons.

He left the barn and returned to the oat bin. He’d finished repairing the wall but now circled it, putting in a nail here and there, tightening the hinges on the door, looking for things to fix.

He was a fixer. A protector. He took his responsibilities more seriously than most. A long time ago he had promised himself he would not take on more unless they helped him with his current responsibilities.

He saw no reason to change that decision. Jayne was right. He was reluctant to take risks. Best he could do was make sure Jayne could handle a gun well enough to not be a threat to others and also be able to take care of herself should the need arise.

He would have avoided her the rest of the day but she assumed he would help her care for the fawn, so after supper he accompanied her back to the barn. Eddie had assured them he had no objection to the fawn in the barn.

“I asked around,” Jayne said. “The consensus is he needs a good bottle feeding twice a day.”

He’d pulled a carrot from the garden and broke it into pieces. “Let’s see if he can eat some of this.” He dropped a bite into the fawn’s mouth and it chewed it. “That’s good.”

They fed the fawn another bottle.

Jayne practically glowed. “I believe he’s going to make it. What are we going to call him?”

Seth’s insides tightened. Naming the fawn only made it more painful should anything happen to it. But he couldn’t quelch Jayne’s joy. “How about Deer?”

When she laughed, the skin around her eyes crinkling like rays of sunshine, his insides turned to warm honey.

“You’re too funny. No, we need something strong and bold.”

“You mean like Thor, the god of thunder.” He meant to be amusing but saw a flash in her eyes and guessed she liked the idea.

“Thor. Suits him, don’t you think?”

He pretended to give the tiny critter closer study then shook his head. “I really can’t picture him throwing bolts of lightning across the sky. Nope. Doesn’t look like a Thor to me.”

“It’s only figurative.” She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “Gives him something to live up to.”

He grabbed his shoulder and groaned. “First, you shoot me and now you beat me.”

She giggled. “As if that hurt.”

No, it wasn’t pain he felt but the feeling that gripped his heart had the same kind of power to drive all other thoughts from his mind.

A few moments later he realized the fawn had finished eating and Jayne had scrambled to her feet.

His thoughts righted and he landed back in his sensible place.

They left the barn.

Seth wasn’t eager to put an end to the evening nor did she appear to be in a hurry to return to the house. By mutual consent they wandered along the roadway between the buildings.

“It’s such a lovely evening,” she murmured, plucking a blade of grass. “This country is so different from England.”

“How so?” He’d never been anywhere but the west.

“It’s big. So sunny and bright. And the mountains. Have you seen anything like them?”

“I’ve seen them all my life but have to say I never tire of them.”

She stared to the west where the sun leaned toward the mountain peaks, filling the valleys with sharp shadows. “Linette says she could never get tired of them, either. Have you noticed her paintings?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“The paintings in the living room are hers.”

He had seen the stunning pictures. “I didn’t realize she’d done them.”

“Linette has painted many pictures but my favorite is in the library. It hangs over Eddie’s mahogany desk. A winter scene with snow-covered mountains and snow-draped evergreens.” Her voice had grown dreamy as if she had slipped away to another place.

He’d noticed the painting and thought it beautiful.

“It’s full of strength. When I look at it I think of a Bible verse I learned as a child. ‘Seek the Lord and his strength.’” She shifted her gaze from the mountains to Seth.

“If God made the mountains and holds the world in place by His power, He can surely carry me through the trials of my life even when I don’t understand what’s going on.” She shook her head. “And I so often struggle to understand life.”

Her eyes widened and she pressed her fingers to her chin. “Why, of course. It’s like the mountains. Even when storm clouds obscure them they are still there. Still solid.”

The peace flooding her face made Seth wish he could as easily find the assurance she had. But a rock of disbelief had settled into his heart after Frank’s death and over the years had grown more solid. More fixed. He figured it would take four teams of strong oxen to budge it now.

Jayne curled her hand around his elbow. “Let’s walk. It’s too pleasant an evening to waste.”

They crossed the bridge, went past the pens, paused to watch the pigs for a moment then climbed the hill beyond and stopped under a tree that provided a view to the west.