When Linette called out for him to come for dinner, Seth hobbled down the hall, careful not to use his leg. The herbs she’d put on the wound could only do so much. He had to be responsible enough to rest the leg until it stopped bleeding.
Eddie came in the back door as Seth entered the kitchen from the other side. “Say, I think you need a crutch.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
Grady burst through the door behind Eddie. “Billy and me are going to catch bugs after we eat. Daisy said girls don’t like bugs.” He faced Linette. “Is that right? Do you hate bugs?”
She smiled. “It depends on the kind of bug. Some I like just fine.” She lifted generous portions of fried ham from a skillet.
Grady shifted his attention to Mercy who dished a mound of potatoes into a bowl. “You like bugs?”
“Can’t say as I do.”
Grady moved on to Sybil as she dumped cooked carrots into a bowl. “You like ’em?”
She shuddered. “No. They give me the creeps.”
He continued on to Jayne who sliced a large loaf of richly browned bread.
Seth swallowed back a rush of saliva. Been a long time since he’d enjoyed a meal such as this. Oh sure, he got fed fine on the cattle drive but hunkering around a campfire with a bunch of cussing, spitting cowboys was hardly the same as sitting at a table in the company of a family and some pretty ladies while eating home-cooked food.
“You like bugs, Auntie Jayne?”
Jayne pretended to give the question a lot of thought. Then she answered. “I don’t mind bugs...” She crossed to Eddie, who scrubbed up at the washstand. “Unless a brother is threatening to stick one down my back.” She leaned over him. “Like you used to do.”
Eddie slowly straightened, saw the knife in her hand and backed away, his arms up as if to protect himself. “Me? I don’t recall doing such a thing.”
She stalked him. “Funny how clearly I recall it. You were such a tease.” The two of them glowered at each other then broke into laughter. She lowered the knife and he draped an arm over her shoulder.
“I was only trying to teach you not to be a sissy.”
“Hmm. And yet you continue to treat me like one.”
He leaned away to look into her face. “How do I do that?”
“By overprotecting me. By refusing to teach me to shoot.” She tossed her head, sending waves of light through her rich brown hair. “But never mind. Seth has decided to give me lessons.”
Eddie stared at Seth. “You did?”
Seth shrugged. Would Eddie feel Seth had encouraged Jayne to defy him? “If you have no objections. I figure it will be safer for everyone if she shoots under proper supervision.”
Mercy huffed. “It wasn’t my fault she shut her eyes.”
Eddie rolled his head back and forth. “Are you sure about this? It might be a bigger task than you know.”
“Yeah,” Mercy said, her tone aggrieved. “How are you going to keep her from closing her eyes?”
“I’m sure she’ll do just fine,” Linette soothed.
“I don’t know why she wants to learn.” Sybil sounded truly puzzled.
Jayne waved her hands. “I’m here, you know. Stop talking about me.”
But they all continued to talk, each defending their previous statements and adding to them.
Jayne jammed her fists on her hips and glowered at the lot but they paid her no heed.
Seth watched her frustration mount and he started to grin.
She met his gaze and squinted at him. “What’s so funny?”
He tipped his head toward the others. Then he put his fingers between his teeth and gave a whistle that brought every pair of eyes toward him. “Jayne seems to be annoyed that we’re all talking about her. She’s feeling invisible.”
Eddie patted her shoulder as if to soothe her which, as far as Seth could tell, had quite the opposite effect.
He wondered how long it would be before she blew her top.
Linette no doubt wondered the same thing, as she moved to defuse the situation. “Our food is getting cold. Why don’t we sit down and eat?”
Eddie waited until everyone was settled then bowed his head and said the blessing. After the food had been passed, he asked, “Where did you girls go this morning?”
All three spoke at once then by silent consent they let Jayne answer. “We followed the river for a ways. Wondered where the water came from. Lakes, of course, but Seth says there are also glaciers up there.”
Eddie nodded. “Indeed, there are. Way up in the mountains.”
Seth took note of the fact that Jayne had said nothing about his promise to take them to one of the mountain lakes. Did it mean nothing to her? For some reason her failure to mention it annoyed him. He’d offered her an outing. At great personal sacrifice. It would mean delaying his return yet another day. Of course, her friends were included. But it was Jayne he’d invited.
Come to think of it, she hadn’t seemed any more overjoyed at his offer to teach her to shoot.
Was she reluctant to spend time with him or was it simply her independence kicking in? Perhaps she thought she and her friends could go to a glacier on their own and she resented his intrusion.
Seems the young lady would take some watching if she thought she could handle every situation on her own. Not that he meant to volunteer for the job. He couldn’t even explain why he’d offered to take her to the mountains let alone give her shooting lessons other than the one big reason.
It hurt to get shot. He’d do his best to see it didn’t happen to another unsuspecting person.
After dinner, Jayne and her friends told Linette they’d clean up so she could rest. Grady went to join Billy in their bug hunt. Eddie rode out of the yard with two other cowboys. The crutch seemed to have been forgotten. Seth wondered what to do with himself but seeing as he was mostly immobile, sitting in the sun again seemed the only alternative, though he’d discovered it a lonely occupation.
He parked himself on a chair out in the grass and stared at the ranch buildings. There must be something he could do to pass the time. Maybe he’d ask Eddie for a job that would last a day or two.
After a bit the girls drifted outside and sat down on the grass beside him. Sybil brought a knitting project and Mercy had an atlas. How far did she expect to go adventuring? Jayne had brought a sock and darning material.
He watched as she wove the yarn in and out.
She glanced up, saw he watched her and lowered the needle. “What?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. You looked something.”
“Really? How do I look something?”
“Like this.” She knit her forehead in a fierce look. “Or this.” She waggled her eyebrows like mischief waiting to happen. “Or this.” She widened her eyes and very clearly communicated surprise.
Her friends giggled.
“Fine. I get your point. But what look was I giving?”
“I’m sure you know.” She returned to her work.
“I’m equally sure I don’t. Why, I was simply watching you darn a sock, watching you weave the yarn in and out in perfect little—” He flicked his wrist to indicate what he meant.
“I suppose you’re surprised to see me doing something useful.”
He glanced at the others but they kept their heads down. Fine. He could deal with this on his own. Though for the life of him, he didn’t know what she expected him to say. Why should he be surprised that she could darn a sock? Then he recalled what she’d said about needing to feel useful. Or something like that. He honestly couldn’t recall her exact words. His mind had been numbed by the pain in his leg and concerned about how it delayed his trip home.
“I think nothing of the sort.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “If you want the truth, I admire your quickness with the needle and yarn.”
She jerked back and stared open-mouthed at him.
“Shut your mouth,” Sybil whispered. “Or you’ll catch bugs.”
Mercy didn’t bother to hide her giggle.
Red crept up Jayne’s neck and painted round apples on her cheeks.
Seth sat back and resisted an urge to pound his palm on his forehead. He’d only meant to...to what? Encourage her? Make her see that she was more than she saw herself as? Instead, he had come across as a flirt. Him? Seth Collins? A flirt? He opened his mouth intending to explain he never flirted but instead clicked his teeth together without saying a thing. Least said, soonest mended, Ma used to say.
“Look,” Mercy said. “There are the boys.”
Billy and Grady ran around in the tall grass beside one of the buildings, each carrying a Mason jar.
“I wonder how many bugs they’ve found.” Jayne’s voice seemed a little gravelly.
“If they come here with jars of bugs, I’m leaving,” Sybil said, already pushing to her feet.
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.