Claiming the Cowboy's Heart. Linda Ford

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.

      But she’d sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, crossed the hills and rivers and mosquito-ridden land of most of North America for the chance to start over. And to be a person who could take care of herself.

      “Is he going to live?” Sybil asked.

      Before she could reply, Linette spoke up. “He’ll be fine so long as he doesn’t get an infection in his wound.” She turned to Jayne, squeezing her arm. “This might be the perfect thing for you.” Her smile was gentle. “You couldn’t help Oliver but you can help this man. You’ll need to check his dressing in a couple of hours. If the wound stops bleeding he’ll doubtlessly be wanting to leave. But until it does, he needs to keep still.”

      Jayne nodded. Linette was right. This was her chance to atone not only for what she’d done to Seth but what she’d failed to do for Oliver.

      She’d grabbed his soiled trousers and shirt as they left the room. “I’ll wash these and mend them.” At least she had a certain amount of skill with needle and thread.

      “There’s a tub and washboard hanging on the side of the house,” Linette said. “Scrub out the blood in cold water. I’ll heat water so you can give them a good wash.”

      She went out to the back step, filled the tub with water and plunged the trousers and shirt into it. Though she’d never used a scrub board, she’d seen maids using one. Mimicking their actions, she rubbed the soiled shirt and pants up and down the ridges.

      Mercy came around the corner of the house as she worked. “Do you remember the young cowboy named Cal?”

      “I met him the first day when Eddie took us around and introduced us.” Good. With repeated rubbing across the scrub board, the blood came out, staining the water a muddy brown.

      “He says he’ll teach me how to ride.”

      “You already know how to ride.”

      Mercy made a dismissive noise. “Side saddle. I’m going to learn to ride astride.”

      Jayne straightened to give Mercy her full attention. “Mercy Newell, have you taken leave of your senses? Your parents will be shocked.”

      Mercy’s merry laugh said enough but she spoke her mind, as well. “Who is going to tell them? Besides, I intend to enjoy every opportunity for adventure this trip offers.”

      Jayne sighed. It was useless to try and dissuade Mercy. Besides, who was she to say what was safe and proper for anyone? If she were to listen to the voices around her, she would continue to be who she’d always been and she had already decided against that. She returned to scrubbing the clothing.

      Mercy studied her for a long, quiet moment. “Why are you washing his clothes? Can’t he take them with him and tend to them himself? I understand he’ll only be here a few hours.” She tipped her head from one side to the other as she studied Jayne. “Does this have something to do with Oliver?”

      Jayne didn’t bother trying to hide her shudder. “I shot some poor passing cowboy.” As she talked, something became clear. “But no, this isn’t about Oliver. It’s about me.”

      Mercy wrapped an arm about Jayne’s shoulders and drew her close. “You can do it.”

      Linette brought out hot water and helped Jayne fill the tub. “Here’s the soap.” At least her sister-in-law understood Jayne’s need to exert more control in her life. From what she’d heard, Linette had much the same desire when she came west. She said her first hurdle had been convincing Eddie she could be a pioneer wife. Her second had been making him understand he needed such.

      A few minutes later Jayne had the shirt and pants pegged to the clothesline. They would dry quickly in the warm sunshine with a breeze to aid the process.

      * * *

      Seth jerked awake as Jayne entered the room. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Only to rest for a few minutes. He’d glanced at his dressing earlier. It had grown pink, which meant he was still bleeding. How much blood had he lost? Enough to make him feel weak. Not a state he liked.

      Jayne moved to the side of the bed and folded back the sheet covering his leg. Her eyes softened with concern. “I’ll have to change the dressing. It’s blood soaked.”

      He nodded. “Fix it up as best you can. I can’t afford to lie about.”

      “What’s your big rush? I thought cowboys came and went and did pretty much as they pleased.” She folded back the dressing as she talked. Her cool fingers on his skin made it possible to ignore the pain as she uncovered his wound.

      He sat up on his elbows to study it. “Is there an exit hole?”

      “Yes. Linette checked for it earlier.”

      He fell back on the pillow. “Well, that’s good news. And the bullet missed the bone.”

      “This would never have happened if Eddie would have given me shooting lessons.”

      “Why doesn’t he? Seems it would be the wisest thing to do.”

      A quick smile curved her lips. “He doesn’t see it that way. Seems he still sees me as his little sister whom he was taught to protect.” She shook her head. “I keep telling him I don’t want to be protected anymore.” Despite the determined tones of her words, her voice remained calm, the English accent soft and soothing. Like the song of a dove.

      “How long have you been here?” Then lest she think he meant this room he added, “At the ranch.”

      “My friends and I arrived a few days ago. Mercy, Sybil and myself.”

      Three unmarried young women in the Northwest Territories. They would draw men from every direction within a hundred-mile radius, if not more. Especially Miss Jayne. The light from the window next to the bed settled in her hair like a net. Brown was such a flat word for