Winning the Widow's Heart. Sherri Shackelford

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       Elizabeth trusted the girl’s ability to help until they unlocked Mr. Elder and sent him to fetch Jo’s mother. “That man you—”

       “I couldn’t go home, anyway,” Jo interrupted, her voice thick with emotion. “Pa shooed me away at the gate. There’s influenza in the house. The town’s had five deaths already. If Ma dies, I’m all Pa’s got to take care of the little ones.”

       A sound of distress caught in Elizabeth’s throat. Concern for the McCoys overshadowed her own worries. “Your family will be fine, Jo. I’m sure. Your mother is a strong woman.”

       Elizabeth wanted to offer more words of comfort, but another contraction robbed her of speech. An eternity later she gasped, “Oh, my, that hurts.”

       “I know.” Jo patted her hand. “It’s going to get worse before it gets better. Mrs. Parker hollered so loud, my ears rang for a week. ’Bout squeezed my hand off, too.”

       Horrifying images of Mrs. Parker’s suffering flooded Elizabeth’s thoughts. They were alone. With the storm raging, and the nearest farm quarantined, no help was coming. “Perhaps we could save these stories for another time?”

       “Oh, right.” Jo flicked her head in a quick nod. “What is it Ma’s always saying?” She snapped her fingers. “I remember now. She distracts ’em by talking, and telling ’em to concentrate on that beautiful baby they’re bringing into the world.”

       “That’s better.”

       “Hey, remember all those clothes we sewed this fall?”

       Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You’re the worst seamstress in the county. I sewed all those clothes while you complained you were dying from boredom. You’d rather be out shooting game than threading a needle.”

       “See? You’re doing better already.” Jo sat back on her heels. “Now deliver this baby so we can decide what to do about that man I locked in the barn.”

       “I’m a Texas Ranger.”

       Jo gasped at the intrusion. Hands fisted, she twisted to block Elizabeth while keeping her defiant gaze fixed on the Ranger.

       Slanting a glance upward, Elizabeth found Mr. Elder filling the doorway and looking madder than a wet hen. His coat was torn at the shoulder, and an angry scratch slashed across his cheek.

      Gracious. This day just kept going from bad to worse.

       “He’s a lawman all right,” Elizabeth replied, restraining Jo with a limp hand to her forearm.

       The girl relaxed her stance. “How’d you get out of the barn?”

       “Just you never mind, missy.” He plucked a length of straw from his hair. “What’s going on in here?”

       “Are you touched in the head, Ranger?” Jo flung out a hand. “Can’t you see she’s having a baby?”

       “Imprisoning a lawman can get you the firing squad.”

       “You don’t look imprisoned to me.”

       Elizabeth shouted as suffocating pressure bore down on her pelvis. The two combatants fell silent, their identical shamefaced expressions almost comical. She panted through the contraction, ignoring the accusatory glares they shot at each other over her head. Silent now, Jack knelt at her side, a concerned frown puckering his brow.

       When the pain eased, Elizabeth flashed the younger girl a reassuring smile. “I hope this doesn’t take much longer. I was hoping to start another batch of bread later.”

       Given the girl’s pitying smile in return, her joke had fallen on deaf ears. Too exhausted to care, Elizabeth rested her head against the wall to stare at the ceiling.

       She’d thought she was capable of delivering a child without collapsing like a fragile greenhorn, but the endless cycles of pain had sapped her strength. Recriminations for her own foolish behavior rattled her composure. Why hadn’t she thought to send Jo into town earlier? Instead, she’d dawdled over her chores, thinking she had weeks to prepare. Without Mrs. McCoy or the doctor, she and the younger girl were going to have to deliver this child alone.

       Elizabeth turned to Jack. Regrets were a luxury she couldn’t afford. “You can go now. We’ll be fine.”

       Jo’s head snapped up. “Not on your life. I need a pan of water and linens. As long as we’ve got ourselves a real, live Texas Ranger, we might as well put him to good use.”

       Elizabeth held up her hand in protest. Lawmen asked too many questions.

       Mr. Elder rose to his feet. “I’ve got whiskey in my saddle bags for the—”

       “Wait.” Fear pierced Elizabeth’s heart. “You won’t bring whiskey into this house.”

       “Ma says it keeps the baby from getting dysentery,” Jo added softly. “I need it to clean my hands.”

       Elizabeth sensed pity in the girl’s eyes, but she brushed aside the feeling. How could Jo know about Will? Elizabeth had confided in no one.

       “Can we get Mrs. Cole onto the bed?” the Ranger asked.

       “No!” Elizabeth cried.

       Every nerve in her body bore down on the pain. Desperate for the agony to end, she didn’t want to be jostled or moved. The contractions were coming closer together, giving her less and less time to recover before the next increasingly agonizing spasm.

       Her energy waned with each pain. The months following Will’s death had been filled with turmoil, leaving her little chance to concentrate on the pending birth. Her shock and grief, her fear, had drowned out all thoughts of the future.

       When the nagging backache from this morning had grown worse, she’d refused to heed the signs. As if, with the baby growing in her womb, her dreams were still possible. She’d pictured her future with a loving husband and half a dozen children running underfoot. The hopeful plans for her new life and a growing family had dwindled. She was a widow, alone and vulnerable.

       “Mrs. Cole.” Jack touched her shoulder, his voice filled with compassion. “Your baby needs you to be strong.”

       Elizabeth grimaced against another contraction. A salty tear caught on the corner of her mouth. The weakness shamed her, but she was exhausted from maintaining her rigid composure. It was time she faced the harsh reality of her circumstances. Women died in childbirth all the time.

       She’d never ducked away from a difficult choice and she wasn’t about to start now. “Promise me something, Mr. Elder.”

       Apprehension widened his eyes.

       Elizabeth didn’t know anything about the Ranger, didn’t know if she could trust him, but she sensed a quiet determination behind his wary gaze. Unlike the local sheriff, he appeared to be bound by a code of ethics. While most men were only interested in their own pleasure, Mr. Elder’s job forced him to take the needs of others into consideration.

       She clasped his hand, comforted by the hard calluses covering СКАЧАТЬ