Claiming the Cowboy's Heart. Linda Ford

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СКАЧАТЬ so scared of guns I might have grabbed the one Oliver kicked toward me. He might still be alive.”

      “Exactly,” Mercy said.

      “Or you might both be dead.” Sybil covered her face with her hands as if she couldn’t bear the thought.

      Jayne wished she could as easily block the sight of Oliver’s death from her mind, but it wasn’t possible. Any more than it was possible to forget she was twenty-one, no longer planning a wedding, and not ever wanting to think of such things again. Oliver had taught her that life was too fragile to make dream-filled plans.

      “You don’t want it happening again,” Mercy insisted.

      Jayne cringed. “I don’t have another fiancé, you know.”

      Mercy laughed. “Not yet, you mean.”

      “Not ever.” Oh, she’d likely marry. Everyone did. But nothing on earth would convince her to again open her heart to such fear and pain and disappointment. Any more than she would ever again let herself become so weak and dependent on others. Though she’d only begun the journey toward living strong and free. “But you’re right about needing to learn to protect myself.” And people she cared about. Never again would she stand by, shaking in fear, while someone died. “I can do this.”

      Mercy repeated her instructions on how to hold the gun, aim it and fire it.

      Sybil crossed her arms and looked like she’d sooner be anywhere but there. “How do you know all this?” she asked Mercy.

      “I sweet-talked one of the cowboys in Fort Benton to teach me.”

      Jayne and Sybil looked at each other and shook their heads in unison. Mercy was notorious for sweet-talking men into doing favors for her.

      Mercy saw their exchanged glances and simply laughed. “Jayne, pay attention. Aim, squeeze and fire.”

      Jayne lifted the gun, steadied it as she squinted down the barrel toward the target. She closed her eyes and squeezed. The gun jerked upward, the noise of the shot making her squeal.

      Mercy gasped. “You’re supposed to keep your eyes open and focused on the target.”

      “Hi yii.” A yell came from a distant spot.

      Jayne eased open one eye. Through the trees she saw a man leaning low over the neck of his horse as he raced away. Her heart clambered up her throat and stuck there like an unwelcome intruder. “Did I shoot him?” Her voice barely croaked out the words.

      Sybil fell back three steps. “He might be after us. We better get back to the ranch.”

      Jayne shook her head. “First, we have to check and make sure I didn’t injure him.” Her stomach turned over and refused to settle. “All I wanted to do was be ready to defend us against bad people. But if I’ve hurt someone instead—” The blood drained to her feet, leaving her ready to collapse in a boneless puddle. Much like it had when Oliver was shot. So much blood. Such a dark stain.

      Tremors raced up and down her spine. Cold as deep as the worst winter day gripped her insides.

      Mercy wrapped an arm about her waist. “I’m sure you only frightened him and he decided to get out of range of your deadly aim.” She laughed like it was no more than a silly joke.

      “We need to check.” Jayne lifted the hem of her black taffeta walking skirt with its stylish Edwardian hoop underskirt and forced her milky legs to take one step forward and then another. Mercy marched at her side. Sybil hung back then, realizing she would be alone, rushed after them.

      They passed the untouched target, pushed through some low bushes, wended between tall poplars with their leaves fluttering noisily in the breeze. The wooded area gave way to a grassy slope with a faint trail skirting boulders. Allowing her legs no mercy, she hurried to the trail and bent over, looking for clues.

      She stopped at a round rock that could serve as a seat if they’d been inclined to sit and enjoy the view. A dark, wet streak dripped down the side of the rock. Her heart beat a frantic tattoo against her ribs. “Look. Isn’t that blood?”

      The others joined her. Mercy touched the spot and lifted a stained finger. “Fresh blood.” She wiped her finger clean on a bit of grass.

      Jayne’s eyes felt as if they might fall from their sockets. “I shot someone.” She straightened and stared in the direction the rider had gone. “What if—” Would she find a body down the trail?

      Mercy grabbed her hand. “It was an accident.”

      “Explain that to the man I shot.” She pulled Mercy after her and signaled Sybil to follow. “I have to see if he’s on the trail.”

      “Dead, you mean?” Mercy said, putting Jayne’s fears out in the open.

      “I knew this was a bad idea.” Sybil’s voice was high and thin. “Let’s go back and tell Eddie. He can look for the man.”

      That sent resolve into Jayne’s insides. Her brother wouldn’t always be around to rescue her. Besides, he would be angry that she had ignored his directive to forget about learning to shoot. She squared her shoulders. “I don’t need Eddie to clean up after me.” She marched down the trail. But her courage faded with every step. Dark spots, some rather large, dotted the dirt. Once she touched a stain and lifted a damp finger.

      “More blood,” Sybil moaned. “Lots of it.”

      Jayne tried unsuccessfully to block the memory of blood pooling around Oliver’s body. So much blood. Sybil had no idea.

      They passed between two table-size boulders and turned by a stand of thick pine trees whose distinctive scent filled the air. The majestic Rocky Mountains rose to her right. Such wild country. Open and free. Had she spoiled it for some poor, unsuspecting man?

      She could see down the trail until it turned and disappeared. No rider. No limp body stretched out in the grass. “Guess he wasn’t injured too badly.” Please, God, let it be true.

      Mercy chuckled. “If we hear of some cowboy dying mysteriously on the trail, shot by an unseen assailant, we’ll know who is responsible.”

      “Mercy,” Sybil chided. “Show a little compassion.”

      But Mercy only laughed. “Jayne knows I’m only teasing, don’t you? It’s probably only a graze. No more than a splinter to a man who lives in this country.”

      Jayne’s tension relieved by the absence of a body, she tucked her arm through Mercy’s and pulled Sybil closer. “All’s well that ends well. Now let’s go back to the ranch and see if Linette needs some help.” Her sister-in-law was efficiency on two legs even though she expected a baby in four months.

      Sybil glanced over her shoulder. “I pray that whomever you shot won’t be bleeding to death somewhere.”

      At the teasing, Jayne faltered. “Maybe I should ask Eddie to ride out and check the trail.”

      Mercy urged her onward. “Like I said, it’s likely only a flesh wound. If the man needs help he will seek it.”

      Jayne nodded. The words should reassure СКАЧАТЬ