one big adventure for her.” She eased his leg up so she could wrap strips of cloth about it. “That ought to take care of it for now.” She stepped back.
Pain pulsed in the wound. He wanted to ask her to press her fingers to the spot. Her touch would ease the hurt. He turned to her, then thought better of his foolishness. “And you came to forget about Oliver.”
Her expression hardened. “I will never forget. Nor do I want to.” She fluttered a hand. “Not that I wouldn’t gladly erase the images from my mind. But I don’t want to forget the helpless feeling I had as I stood back not knowing what to do.” She curled her hands in a gesture that suggested resolve.
Resolve was good but not when it was combined with stubbornness and refusal to listen to wise counsel. And he had already learned enough about Jayne to know in her case, it was. Despite her brother’s warnings she’d gone ahead and shot a gun. Shouldn’t the accidental shooting have persuaded her to abandon her idea of learning to shoot without a proper teacher?
She was a dangerous woman to know or be around. The kind that left others to bear the consequences of her choices. In this instance, he was the unfortunate one to pay for her recklessness. His jaw tightened as he thought of the burden her stubbornness placed on others.
He stared up at the ceiling. “What time is it?”
“Almost supper time.”
He sighed heavily. “I really need to get on the trail.”
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“I got a pa who needs me. He’s all I have.”
Her smile softened her expression and made her eyes dance. “He’s expecting you?”
He tried to think how to answer her question. Yes, Pa was expecting him, though not likely with the generous welcome she appeared to imagine.
Taking his silence for denial of her question, her eyebrows rose. “You’re planning a surprise? How nice. How long since you’ve seen each other?”
“Not exactly a surprise, though he isn’t likely expecting me. I joined a cattle drive four months ago and haven’t seen him since.”
Sympathy darkened her eyes. “Well, then of course you’re anxious to see him, but will a day or two make any difference? Especially if your leg needs the rest?”
“It’s not just my pa.” Shoot, he might as well tell the whole story. “My pa had a stroke five months ago. It left him crippled on one side and barely able to speak.” As he talked the memory of the situation tightened his throat. “I will never forget finding him alone and helpless.”
She patted his shoulder. “I think he wasn’t the only one who felt helpless. I think you did, too.”
He nodded. Held her gaze. Maybe she understood because of her own helpless feeling of watching her fiancé die. “The doctor said there were new treatments. Some patients had been having good success with manipulation of the paralyzed limbs. I would do anything to help my pa so I arranged to hire one of these people who do that. A man by the name of Crawford would care for my pa for a price, and put him through the exercises. In order to pay for his services, I joined a cattle drive. I paid him what I could up front and promised to deliver the rest at the end of the drive.”
“Surely a day or two won’t change that.”
“I don’t know. Our agreement was for three months but our drive ran into trouble crossing the Oldman River. Crawford drove a hard bargain. I sent a letter a few days ago saying I’d be there in a week. I don’t expect he’ll give me much leeway in my arrival time.” He sat up on his elbows and checked for his boots. They were there but his pants and shirt were missing. Never mind them. Eddie would find his clothes in the saddlebags. “I need to get there. I don’t want to put my pa’s health at risk. But more than that, I want to see for myself how Pa is.”
“You said he was all you have left. Your ma is dead?”
He nodded. “She passed away a few years ago.” She’d been ill a few days before he’d gone away on a job but she assured him she was fine. “Go on and do what you need to do,” she’d said. “I’ll be here when you get back.” She’d been there sure enough. In a pine box. He shouldn’t have left her knowing she’d been ill. Pa said he didn’t realize she was so sick. Seth knew even if he had, Pa wouldn’t have sought medical help. He didn’t think doctors had anything to offer. If Seth had been there he would have taken her to a doctor. She might still be alive.
“I’m sorry about your mother and I respect your anxiety about your father but it seems to me you better let your leg stop bleeding so you can get on your way without fear of dying on the trail.” She shuddered. “This is all my fault.”
No getting around that fact and yet he wanted to reassure her. But what could he say? “It was an accident.” His words offered little comfort to her and certainly didn’t provide an excuse in his mind. Accidents were usually the result of foolhardy choices and as such could, with a little common sense, be prevented.
“If I could ride I would deliver your money myself. I’d make sure your pa was cared for in the best possible way. I’d do it myself.”
Seth held back a protest. But he wasn’t sure she was the kind of person he’d send to care for his pa.
Fire filled her eyes. “See, that’s what’s wrong with being helpless. I need to learn to ride like a Western woman.”
He chuckled. “It’s a long ride for anyone not used to the saddle.” She’d be off the horse and leading it before she’d gone twenty miles. The idea tickled him clear to his toes.
She smoothed the sheet over him then poured a cup of water and offered it. Her cool fingers brushed his. Such fine, soft fingers. Evidence that she’d led a privileged life. Hardly the sort of woman to shoot a gun, or ride a horse, or do many of the things required of women in the west. Yet she seemed determined. And some things she needed to know, like starting a fire in the stove, or practical things like that, but where was her common sense? Even if she thought she needed to know how to shoot a gun, there was a reasonable way to do it and a bullheaded way. His leg was evidence that she’d chosen the latter, unwilling to bide her time for proper instruction.
He knew the risks of people who didn’t listen to common sense. He lived daily with the consequence. He scrubbed at his chin, vaguely aware he needed a shave.
“Linette said if your wound was still bleeding you should continue to rest. You have lost a lot of blood already. I don’t know how much a person has to lose.” She shuddered. “Seems like a lot.”
He wondered if she meant Oliver. Had she watched him bleed to death?
She sucked in air and appeared to dismiss whatever thoughts shivered up and down her spine. “She says she’ll provide you a tray so you can eat in bed.”
“Eat in bed? No way. Only invalids and weak women take their meals in bed.” He was neither.
“That’s just your pride speaking. If it means your leg would stop bleeding, shouldn’t you be willing to do it so you can resume your journey?” She sounded so reasonable that he felt like a small child having a pout.
“Very well. I’ll take supper in bed.” He held up his hand to make sure she understood. “But only this once so my leg will stop bleeding.”
She patted his shoulder. “One meal in bed won’t make you a permanent invalid.”
How could he protest when she sounded so reasonable? Pride was a foolish emotion that he had never struggled with before, and now it had reared its ugly head. He didn’t like it.
“I’ll be back later. Try and rest.” She slipped from the room.
He stared at the ceiling. He curled and uncurled his fingers and lay as still as possible, willing the bleeding to stop. Only common sense kept him in this bed. Like Jayne said, he didn’t want to die at