Chapter Three

      Jayne paused outside the door to Seth’s room to adjust the tray on which she’d placed soup, buttered bread, pudding and tea. It was heavier than she expected and hard to balance as she turned the knob. Never before had she realized how skilled the serving maids were to carry on one hand trays piled high with dishes. How did they do it?

      “I brought you tea. Supper,” she corrected herself as she then stepped inside the room. She positioned the tray over his legs. She plucked another pillow from the shelf and reached around to tuck it at his back. Their faces were inches apart. His eyes flashed pine green and held her gaze so she couldn’t jerk away. Her heartbeat fluttered in her throat like she’d swallowed a tiny butterfly and it was trying to get free. Her cheeks grew warm. Why was she staring into the eyes of a stranger? And why did it cause such an odd reaction?

      From somewhere deep inside, her upbringing exerted itself. She finished adjusting the pillows so he could sit up enough to eat and stepped back, her hands folded at her waist.

      “Linette is going to check on your wound after you’ve eaten. She has something that will stop the bleeding. She got it from an Indian woman in the area.” She rattled on, not allowing herself a chance to consider her silly behavior.

      He tasted the soup. “This is very good. Sure beats the beans and biscuits I’ve lived on for the last few days.”

      “I’ll tell Linette you like it. I’m learning to cook, too. Linette says it’s not difficult. She came out west last fall and had to learn the hard way.”

      “The hard way?”

      “By trial and error.” She chuckled as she thought of Linette’s stories. At Seth’s questioning look, she said, “She didn’t know how to bake bread and tried to bury the lump of failed dough in a snowbank but Eddie found her doing it.” Baking bread was another thing to add to her list. “And she didn’t know how to cook beans and served them hard. I don’t know any of those things, either, but I will learn.”

      “Far more practical than shooting guns.”

      “Did your ma know how to shoot?”

      He considered her. “Well, now I suppose she did though I don’t recall her ever doing so. Why would she when there was Pa and I and—”

      She waited for him to finish but he suddenly concentrated on his food. “And?” she prompted.

      He shrugged. “And other people. How did you get to the ranch?”

      His question, so out of context, caught her by surprise and she answered without thinking. “We crossed the ocean on a ship then took a train, a steamboat and then the stagecoach.”

      “You and your two companions?”

      “An older couple escorted us as far as Fort Benton. Why do you ask?”

      “Because you talk like you are helpless yet I think it took a great deal of guts and ability to navigate that trip.”

      She stared at him. No one—not even she—had acknowledged that it had been a challenge. “I learned a lot.”

      “And maybe discovered you could do more than you thought you could.”

      “Maybe.” She handed him his tea. His words echoed in her head. Could she do more than she thought she could? She intended to find out on this visit to the ranch. Funny that it had taken a stranger, a victim of her ineptitude, to point out something she’d overlooked.

      “Thank you.” She ducked her head at the surprised look he shot her way.

      “For what?”

      “For making me see that I’m not a helpless, pampered woman.”

      He grinned. “I don’t know about pampered. I suspect you are a woman of many privileges but no one has to be helpless unless they choose to be.”

      “And I choose otherwise. In the past I have been far too compliant.”

      He put his spoon down and considered her solemnly. She considered him right back. “Miss Gardiner—”

      “Please, call me Jayne.”

      “Jayne, then. There is a vast difference between not being helpless and being foolhardy.”

      Her breath stalled halfway up her lungs. She forced her words past the catch in her throat. “Are you saying I’m the latter?” Her words were spoken softly but surely he heard the note of warning.

      “What do you think?” But he didn’t give her a chance to say. “Shooting a gun willy-nilly without regard for passersby, without knowing proper safety technique sounds just a little foolish to me. Doesn’t it to you?”

      “It sounds to me,” she replied, her tight jaw grinding the words, “like a woman ready and willing to do whatever is required to learn how to take care of herself.” She headed for the door. Then she retraced her steps to face him. “I came here intending to do my best to make your evening pleasant. I meant to bring my friends to visit you.”

      He quirked an eyebrow. “Too big a job for you to do alone?”

      “I think I can handle one lame cowboy.”

      “Just like you can handle a gun.”

      She pressed her hand to her lips. The man had a way of saying all the wrong things and igniting an irritation that burned away reason. “You know I even thought of reading a book to you so you could rest.” She let out a blast of overheated breath. “But now I believe I will leave you to your own devices. After all, you wouldn’t want the company of a foolish, useless—” Heaven help her, she couldn’t stop her voice from quivering and stopped to get control of her emotions. “Silly woman.” She hurried toward the door.

      He was just like her father and her brother and, come to think of it, Oliver. None of them saw her as having any useful purpose other than to grace their table, encourage them whether or not she agreed with them and do nothing to upset the status quo.

      Well, they could all look for that kind of woman somewhere else. She would no longer be such a person.

      She didn’t need any of them to help her achieve her goals.

      Seth’s voice reached her before she made it down three steps. “Miss Gardiner, Jayne, please come back. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

      Ignoring his call, she returned to the kitchen where the others had cleaned up the dishes from the meal.

      “How is he?” Linette asked.

      “Anxious to be on his way.”

      “Is his wound still bleeding?”

      “I didn’t check. I said you would do it.”

      “Of course.” Linette went to the pantry and returned with a small leather pouch. “I’ll take this along in case I need it.” She headed for the stairs. “Aren’t you coming?”

      Jayne shook her head. “I don’t think he needs two females fussing about him.” Especially one he considered foolish. His words continued to sting.

      Mercy draped an arm about her shoulders. “What happened?”

      Jayne gave a tight smile. “What makes you think anything did?”

      “Because