Claiming the Cowboy's Heart (9 page)

Smokey jumped out of the grass and Sybil screamed. “Silly cat. You frightened me.” She headed indoors.

Mercy closed her book, stretched and bolted to her feet. “I’m going to explore. Can you take my book in for me?” She handed it to Jayne.

Smokey arched his back and rubbed against Jayne then leaped into Seth’s lap.

“Well, make yourself at home.” He stroked the cat and earned a very loud purr.

“The cat likes you,” Jayne said.

“You needn’t sound so surprised.”

She shook her head. “I’m not surprised at all.”

“Really? So you think I’m a likeable fellow?” He ducked his head and paid Smokey a great deal of attention. What kind of question was that? When had he ever been tempted to beg for attention before? It must be the result of sitting around all day staring at the world creeping by on leaden feet.

She made a humming sound. “Can’t really say, can I? I hardly know you.”

“Fair enough. But after I’ve taught you to shoot a gun well enough to trust you with one, you’ll know me well enough to give me your opinion.”

She squinted at him. “How long do you think these lessons are going to take?”

He lifted a hand. “I guess that depends on how fast you learn.”

“I learn fast.”

“Good to know.”

“Then you can be on your way.” As an afterthought, she added, “To your pa.”

That reminder brought him up sharply. He had to get to his pa as soon as possible. He would not fail in his responsibility.

His attention was diverted as Grady and his friend climbed the hill.

Jayne introduced Billy, a boy of about six with blue eyes and blond hair. The boys’ coloring was so similar, he could have easily passed for Grady’s older brother. Seth recalled hearing that Billy and his brother and sisters had a new ma and pa and wondered what had happened.

Billy pointed down the hill. “I live in that house.” He indicated a two-story house beyond the other buildings. It looked recently constructed. “Heard you got shot. It hurt much?”

“Only when I breathe,” Seth said.

The children giggled.

“Wanna see what I got?” Billy held his jar toward Seth.

Seth took it and examined the bug collection. “Wow. You’ve been hard at work catching bugs.” There were a dozen or so bugs including several furry caterpillars. He offered the jar to Jayne. “You want to see them?”

She held up a hand and wrinkled her nose. “I see them fine from here.”

He chuckled at her expression then turned back to admire Grady’s collection of bugs. After a bit the boys set their jars aside and chased after each other.

“It’s nice they have one another to play with,” Jayne said.

He didn’t say anything.

“It must be lonely being an only child.”

He heard the question in her voice. Knew she was asking how it had been for him. But he hadn’t been an only child. He’d had an older brother he adored. The hollowness in his heart cried out. He moaned then realizing he’d done so, rubbed his leg as if it hurt. It did, a little, but not nearly as much as the spot in his heart where he stored Frank’s memories.

He quietly, firmly closed the door on that pain. There’d been a resurgence of his memories in the last few hours but he intended for them to stay safely buried in the past.

Thankfully Linette joined them at that moment and saved him from Jayne’s curious study.

* * *

Jayne wondered at his sudden withdrawal. One moment he teased her and the next his expression had closed off like he’d remembered something he’d left undone. She didn’t think it was because he’d delayed his trip to see his pa. Seems he should be able to relax and trust that this Crawford fellow would not abandon his pa. But she had no idea what else could explain it. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t part of her plans for her life.

She resumed repairing the sock but couldn’t dismiss his statement that he enjoyed watching her, and stole a glance his direction.

His attention was on the boys chasing each other.

That was fine because part of her plans included being free of emotional entanglements and something about Seth threatened those boundaries.

She folded up her mending project and rose. “I’ll help with supper preparations,” she said and retreated indoors.

The next morning, Seth appeared for breakfast hobbling on a crutch.

Jayne watched his progress. He appeared a little awkward but it would enable him to get around without using his leg.

Linette had checked the wound this morning and said it looked good.

“I see Eddie found you one.” She nodded at his crutch and smiled. Her smile made its way to her eyes, warming them in a surprising way.

“Yup. Now I can get around more and not worry about bleeding.” He grinned at her.

Mornings would be a cheerful matter if she saw such a happy grin every day. She resisted an urge to thump the heel of her hand on her forehead. The last thing she needed or wanted was to be dependent on a man’s facial expressions to set the tone for her day. She turned to Linette. “Is his leg okay?” She already knew the answer but had to bring her thoughts back to sensible. She hoped Seth wouldn’t take her words to indicate anything more than concern that he not do further damage to his leg. She didn’t want that on her conscience. No reason he should think it anything more.

“So long as he doesn’t overdo it.”

Seth made a protesting noise. “You could have asked me. I’m right here.” He put his fingers between his teeth as if to whistle, a reminder of how he’d silenced the others yesterday. He grinned at her.

She couldn’t help but smile back, and despite her resolve, her heart tumbled over itself like the waterfall they’d visited.

After breakfast, he lingered in the kitchen. When she glanced at him, he tipped his head to signal he wished to speak to her.

She followed him down the hall.

“I’m ready to give you a shooting lesson. Let’s go.”

Her tumbling heart jerked to a halt as she crossed her arms. “I can be ready anytime I want. Just as soon as I’m asked.”

“I just asked.”

“No, you told me. Just like you told me I would take instructions from you.” She planted her hands on her hips as her insides twisted. “You’re just like everyone else. I have the right to make a choice. So ask.”

He blinked and opened his mouth. No sound came out. He closed it again and turned to stare out the front door. His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath.

Was it so difficult to give her the right to make her choices? If so, he demanded far too much control. More than she would give up.

Slowly he came round to face her. “I don’t know why this is so important to you but fine. I can ask. Jayne Gardiner, would you like me to give you shooting lessons?”

She struggled to put an end to her annoyance, her anger and a whole host of emotions that had nothing to do with him. With blinding insight, she realized that her cauldron of emotions had been building for a long time. They were the culmination of having so many decisions taken out of her hands because she wasn’t considered worthy of making them. Added to that was how she bore the consequences of the choices others made for her. Father, Oliver and even Eddie chose as they saw best but their decisions weren’t always what she cared to live with.

He shifted, and she brought her attention back to the present situation. He’d asked even though he didn’t understand. That raised him considerably in her estimation.

“I would like for you to give me lessons.” She waited.

He looked confused then understanding flooded his face and he chuckled. “Would today suit you?”

She nodded. “Today suits me just fine.”

“When would you like to go?”

“Give me two minutes.”

His chuckles followed her across the kitchen and into her bedroom where she scooped up a Western-style hat she deemed necessary for shooting and the red brocade bag containing her pistol. She’d purchased the gun at the Fort. She guessed even before she reached the ranch that Eddie wouldn’t be willing to teach her to handle a firearm. There were times he was so much like their father. But she’d bought it, anyway.

She skipped back to the kitchen. Linette, Sybil and Mercy waited for her.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Linette asked.

“Very sure.”

Her sister-in-law smiled. “Then I’m behind you all the way. I firmly believe in women learning as much independence as they can.”

“Me, too,” Mercy said, giving her a little hug.

Sybil sighed. “Just don’t go shooting anyone.”

She laughed, then assured them she’d be extra careful and went to join Seth who waited outside.

“Where to?” he asked.

She pointed to the back of the house. “That will get us away from the ranch.” As they walked, she gave him a studying look.

He had a gun stuck in his belt.

“I have my own gun,” she said.

“Figured you did.”

The way he said it, full of resignation and despair, brought a burst of laughter to her lips. “So why did you bring a gun?”

“A man should be prepared at all times.” He grinned. “Don’t you agree?” He stopped, leaning on his crutch to look at her. Their gazes caught and held. A dozen thoughts fluttered through her brain like butterflies. Did he refer to her shooting him and meant to suggest he should have been armed and ready?

The idea so amused her that she tilted her head back and laughed.

“Care to share the joke?”

She tried to stop her laughter but at the bewildered look on his face, she shook her head and waved her hands to indicate she couldn’t speak.

He looked heavenward as if seeking divine help in dealing with her—an idea that tickled her so deep inside she couldn’t stop laughing despite his pained look.

Finally, she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “I wondered if you wished you’d been armed and ready the day I shot you.” She pressed her lips together to keep from bursting into laughter again. “Or if you planned to be armed and ready for today.” She managed to contain her mirth but her eyes brimmed with the effort.

He shook his head and his mouth drew down at the corners. “If you can’t be serious about such a grave matter…” He let the sentence trail off as if her failure defied words.

She pulled her mouth into a frown that reflected his expression. “I can be serious. See?”

He lifted his hands in a sign of defeat. “I give up. But how am I to teach you something as grave and deadly as shooting a gun if you only see it as a—” he shook his head “—a mockery.”

“You sure you’re not mocking me?” She giggled.

“Me? Not a chance.”

In a flash of clarity, she realized that he spoke the truth. Likely he took each task with due seriousness. And she didn’t find the idea of his seriousness objectionable. It made a man dependable. Not that it mattered to her. She didn’t mean to depend on a man in the future.

Chapter Six

T
hey reached a grove of trees. Tall pine, frothy willows and sighing poplar. As they stepped into a clearing, Seth looked around. The area was wide enough to give them room to shoot, and there were no rocks nearby to pose a risk of ricochet. If his bearings were correct, he had been a hundred yards farther on, sitting on a boulder when she shot him.

A stump on the far side of the clearing held a paper target. “Where did you get that?” He wondered why Eddie would have one. He didn’t seem the type to be spending time in target practice.

“I got it at the Fort when I got my gun. When I explained to the store owner what I intended to do, he said I’d need a few of these.”

Seth stared at her. “You’ve been planning this a long time.”

Her eyes bored into his, full of conviction and challenge—as if she expected him to oppose her idea. But she wouldn’t listen if he did, which was why he intended to give her lessons.

He broke from the intensity of her look and shifted his gaze to the target. “I see it’s unmarked.”

She laughed. “I haven’t come within a mile of it.” Her expression sobered. “But I’ve left a mark on you. You will never know how much I regret that.”

Again her gaze found his and held it in a look that burned away every argument he might have imagined to her plan. In fact, if he let it, her look might have broken down walls he’d built around his heart to protect it from the pain of losing Frank and Sarah. That couldn’t happen and he jerked his gaze away so sharply it put him momentarily off balance. Only his firm grasp on the crutch kept him on his feet.

He was here for one purpose only—to teach her how to handle a firearm so no one else would be injured. She might have shot herself. He shuddered at the thought.

“First thing is to move the target closer so you have some hope of hitting it.” He hopped over and brought it to a stump much closer. “Let’s see what sort of gun you have.”

She dug in her brocade bag and brought out a .45 Colt Single Action Army revolver. A decent enough gun. She held it gingerly.

“First thing is always consider it loaded. Hold it like it’s serious business. That way you aren’t in for any surprises.”

“Okay.” The gun still dangled like a spider.

He gingerly removed it from her hand and walked her through the process of loading, unloading, cocking the hammer, ejecting the spent shell. “Have you got all that?”

She nodded.

“Then let’s see you do it.”

He walked her through it several times until each move was certain.

“Now for the stance. Your first instinct is to stand with your legs slightly apart facing your target. However, that allows you to sway sideways. Instead— Are you right-handed?”

She nodded again.

“Then you want to put your left foot forward and hold the gun with both hands. Like so.” He let the crutch fall to the ground so he could illustrate. “Try it.”

She followed his instructions. She clenched her jaw so tightly he wondered if her teeth would survive her first lesson.

“Now take the gun and hold it.”

She did so, extending it at shoulder height, her shoulders hunched practically to her ears. It looked most uncomfortable. If she found the task so offensive, why did she persist with it?