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Claiming the Cowboy's Heart Page 19
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“So what will it take to convince you to tell me where the key is?” He trailed his smelly finger along her cheek.
She shuddered. She only had to delay him. Eddie would discover her absence when she didn’t show up for dinner.
Or would they think she wanted to be left alone?
Seth, why did you have to leave when I really and truly need you?
* * *
Seth had stayed up late last night making a belt for Buster. He’d given it to Eddie this morning. “A thank-you for Buster for taking care of my horse.”
Eddie had examined it. “Nice tooling. You do this?”
“My pa taught me.” Pa had given both his sons leatherworking tools on their twelfth birthday. Frank had never cared much for the work but Seth had become quite good at decorating leather pieces. Though Pa had never said so. Only those who bought the items had told him.
Seth had stayed long enough to eat a hearty breakfast, knowing it would be the last decent meal he got until he reached Corncrib. At the main road, he’d turned south, leaned over his horse and raced down the road.
He’d delayed his return far too long.
Pa would have every right to think he neglected him.
Only the truth was, he never had and never would. For a few days he’d taken care of a different responsibility. That was all. Pa had no reason to worry. Or condemn.
Why, even when Pa made unreasonable demands on Seth, he hadn’t balked. Like the time he’d insisted they needed one more load of wood even though it was almost dark, cold and threatening to snow.
“It will snow before morning,” Pa had warned. “Then it will be even harder to get the wood out. You want Ma and me to freeze to death this winter?”
Of course Seth didn’t so he’d gone out in the deepening darkness, stumbling over roots he couldn’t see. The horse tangled the rigging on a stump and it had taken Seth several hours to get everything sorted out and the wagon loaded. Snow began to fall long before he finished. By the time he got home he was soaked to the skin and so cold the marrow of his bones ached. But he still had to unload the wood, stack it in the shed and take care of the horse.
All Pa had said was, “You got it done? Good.”
Not for the first time, he’d wondered if Pa wished Seth had died instead of Frank.
Seth would have gladly given his life for Frank’s but he’d been unable to stop Frank from rushing onto the thin ice.
Pa had said so many hurtful things. Expected the impossible from Seth. Seth understood it was because Pa held him responsible for Frank’s death.
So many instances came to mind as Seth rode away from Eden Valley Ranch and Jayne.
As he thought of never seeing Jayne again a groan ripped from the bottom of his insides, like a flash flood tearing up worries and concerns and memories by their roots, swirling them into a quagmire. He hunkered over the saddle horn as if he could block the pain.
Jayne had shared her worries and fears as if she thought he could help her keep them at bay. She had given him sweet kisses.
His fists tightened into knots at how empty his arms were. How barren his future. He longed to hold her next to his heart forever.
But he wasn’t worthy.
He reined up and stared at the rocks next to the path.
Why did he think that? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t provide for a woman. He could work for Eddie. Or start his own ranch.
It wasn’t as if he couldn’t protect her. He’d shown that. Although, he hadn’t really, had he? The Mountie had captured the man without incident. All Seth did was hang around for the sake of his conscience.
But he would have protected her if the need had arisen.
But somehow everything he’d done, or would have done, wasn’t enough.
He continued to stare at the lifeless rock, hoping the answer would somehow appear.
For whom wasn’t it enough?
Pa saw Frank and Sarah’s accident as proof that Seth could never handle responsibility. He’d expected a lot from Seth and Seth always delivered. But he knew full well Pa was disappointed in him.
“You could never take care of a wife. It’d end up the same way it did with Frank.”
Recalling Pa’s words shook him to the core.
He’d heard the words enough times, though he couldn’t say if it had been a hundred, a dozen…or only twice. But they were branded into his thoughts.
He believed them so firmly that he’d secretly vowed he would never take a wife.
But were the words true?
He shifted about, brought his gaze to the trees a few feet away. His throat tightened as he considered what being a husband involved.
There were certainly risks. Illness. Accidents. Wild animals. Childbirth.
Some he could guard against. Others, he would be helpless to do anything about.
Were his pa’s words true?
Was his fear of commitment valid?
Was it possible to fulfill his duty to his pa and also be a husband?
And—the biggest question of all—did he dare risk having his heart ripped apart should any of those disasters befall?
What had Bertie said about God having His eye on the sparrows?
Any one of us is worth a whole lot more than a sparrow.
Worth more than a sparrow? Why he hardly gave them a thought.
Wasn’t it Roper who looked at his children and said that God saw fit to bring them into their lives so he could surely trust God with their future, their health, their happiness?
Was it possible to trust a God he couldn’t see? A God who didn’t do things the way Seth thought they should be done?
Or was he simply finding a way to ease his way out of responsibilities that forced him to make a hard, unwelcome choice?
Was he looking for a way to backtrack? To settle into the groove he had dug himself into?
Pa or Jayne. Where did his heart belong?
He jumped off his horse and led him to the trees where he paced from the trail and back again, considering what he should do.
Go to Pa and care for him as was his duty.
Return to Jayne and follow the inclination of his heart.
Or do both…and perhaps fail both parties?
Finally, desperate for an answer, he fell to his knees by a tree. “God, if You care about a little worthless sparrow then I figure You care for me, a worthless man. Show me how to do what is right. Pa or Jayne. Or can I have them both?”
He surely didn’t expect a bolt of lightning from the sky pointing the right direction any more than he expected an audible voice.
But he heard a bird nearby and located a nest of little ones. Only they weren’t so little anymore. They were fully feathered and flew back and forth freely. Yet they continued to return to the nest where they’d been hatched.
Free to fly. Yet bound to their beginnings.
He had his answer. And he swung to the back of his horse and turned back toward the ranch.
He couldn’t wait to tell Jayne his decision.
Chapter Seventeen
Jayne’s arms hurt from being tied behind her. The ropes around her wrists bit into her flesh. Struggling in a vain attempt to free herself had rubbed her wrists raw. But her captor before her offered no relief. The dark pines pressed close on all sides, filling the narrow clearing with ominous shadows.
Fear clawed at her throat. Made it impossible to fill her lungs. Be calm. Be brave.
She swallowed hard. Maybe if she could divert him in some way…
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Why you want to know?” The man sat across the small clearing, a space of about eight feet, alternately scowling at her then chewing viciously on his fingernails.
“No matter. Just being polite.” But she’d like to be able to tell his relatives—if he had any—when she shot him through the heart.
Her anger lasted but a second. He kept her brocade bag pressed to his side. She’d have to have wings to get it.
“Guess it don�
��t matter if you know. I’m only keeping you ‘till you come to your senses and tell me where the key is.”
“Believe me, I’d tell you if I knew.”
“Guess I don’t believe you.” He spit out a bit of fingernail. “Name’s Harry Simms.”
She didn’t know whether to gag at the way he gnawed his fingers or laugh at such an innocuous name for a murderer. Instead, she fixed him with a look that stung her eyes. “Wish I could say it was a pleasure.”
He gave a mirthless sound that she supposed was the closest he could come to a laugh. “I’ll let you go anytime you agree to show me where the key is.” He opened a can of beans. “You hungry?”
“No, thanks.”
He scooped the beans out with his knife and ate them directly from the can.
She checked the position of the sun. Directly overhead. Wouldn’t Eddie wonder why she hadn’t returned for dinner? Please show him where I am, she prayed silently.
Harry cleaned out the can and tossed it into the woods. He lounged back, picking his teeth with a thin wooden toothpick. “I can wait all day. Can you?” He pulled his hat over his eyes. In a few minutes, he snored.
Jayne tugged at the ropes binding her. Harry might be a despicable man but he knew how to tie her so tight she couldn’t get loose.
She considered her options. Enough time had passed she decided Eddie wasn’t looking for her. At least he wasn’t finding her.
What would happen if she told Harry she knew where the key was? She played through several scenarios. She could take him back to the ranch, and hope Eddie or one of the other cowboys could stop him. Or lead him to the barn. Or take him… Where?
Every possibility ended with her having nothing to show him and by leading him to the ranch, possibly putting others in harm’s way.
No. She must find a way to trick him out here where no one would get hurt but herself.
She prayed desperately for God to give her a really good idea. But nothing came to mind. She shuddered to think what would happen to her.
But no matter, she would not reveal her fear.
Nor would she let it control her.
God help me.
She could count on no other help but His.
* * *
Seth rode up to the ranch house. Had he arrived in time for dinner? Not that food interested him half as much as the certainty of seeing Jayne at the table.
He went to the back door to knock. Eddie opened it before his knuckles met the wood.
“Seth? Where did you come from?” Eddie glanced past him. “Is Jayne with you?”
“Me? Why would she be with me? I left earlier today. Alone. You know that.” He pushed Eddie aside to glance into the kitchen. “Where’s Jayne?” Everyone else sat around the table. Mercy’s and Sybil’s expressions were strained as if the skin on their faces had grown too tight. Linette pulled Grady to her lap and murmured comfort to the boy, although her eyes darkened and she looked worried.
Seth stepped into the room. “Where is she?”
They looked from one to the other.
Mercy answered. “She left right after you did. Said she was going shooting. But she hasn’t come back.”
Sybil rubbed a hand across her eyes. “We all assumed she just wanted to be left alone, but shouldn’t she have come home for dinner?”
“Well, if that’s all, I’ll go get her.” He dashed out the door and trotted up the hill. It would be easier to talk to her in the clearing where they had spent so many hours together. As he headed for the spot, he rehearsed what he would say. “I’ve come back for you.” Hmm. That sounded a bit blunt. “I hope you care enough to—” Still not right. Surely the words would come when he saw her. Or maybe he’d say what he felt with a kiss.
“Jayne.” She’d likely wonder why he’d come back and why he sounded so eager. “Jayne.” He stepped into the clearing. The target was there, along with the log on which they’d sat to visit, and a few casings of spent shells. But not Jayne.
“Huh?” He turned full circle. Peered into the trees. “Jayne?” Had she heard him coming and been too angry to talk to him? “Jayne, come on. I came back to tell you that I care. I don’t want to leave and never see you again.” That should bring her out of hiding.
He held his breath and listened for the sound of her approach. The wind rustled leaves overhead. A pinecone rattled to the ground. A magpie squawked and scolded. Other birds chattered as they went about their business.
His breath whooshed out. “Jayne, are you hiding? Stop it. You’re worrying me.”
He waited but heard nothing except the sounds of nature. This was past being funny. She should make her presence known. He stepped into the trees and searched the nearby bushes. Where was she and why was she doing this?
No longer did he smile. No longer did he burst with anticipation of telling her what he felt. Instead, he pressed his lips together tightly. When she finally decided to make herself known, he meant to tell her how foolish this game was.
He returned to the clearing and plunked down on the log. Maybe she’d slipped away while he beat the bushes and returned to the ranch.
With a deep sigh, he dropped his hands between his knees.
This was not at all how he’d pictured his return. He scuffed his heels back and forth. Maybe this was a sign from God that he should continue with his original plan and head for Corncrib.
Might as well go back to the ranch. Let her gloat that she’d fooled him.
A bit of pale wood caught his eye. He picked it from the ground.
A toothpick. A fancy, city-man toothpick. How could it be? Had the Englishman been here days before and dropped it? He ran his finger along its length. The tip was wet. It had been dropped recently. How was that possible? The Mountie had arrested the man.
Had he escaped?
Hot blood boiled from his heart. Had the murderer returned and found Jayne unguarded?
He slapped his forehead. Thrashing through the bushes looking for Jayne would certainly have warned the escapee of Seth’s presence and could well have destroyed any trail.
He considered his options. Go back and inform Eddie or go after Jayne? The former would waste precious time but Eddie deserved to know.
He ran to the house as fast as his bowlegs allowed. Thankfully Eddie stood outside the door. Whether he meant to get back to work or waited for news of his sister made no difference to Seth. “I found this.” He thrust the toothpick at Eddie. “It’s like the one I found where the man had been watching Jayne the other day. He must have escaped. He must have taken her. I’m going to find her.” The words came out in a rush.
Eddie slapped him on the back. “I’ll get some cowboys together and we’ll scour the country. We’ll find her. We’ll let you take that direction. We’ll go there and there.” He pointed then ducked into the house.
As Seth swung to the back of his horse he heard Eddie tell the women to pray. Then he turned his mind to what he would do and galloped back to the clearing. He tied the horse at the edge, pulled his pistol from his saddlebag and checked to make sure it was loaded before he tucked it into his waistband.
He searched every blade of grass, every leaf for a hint of the trail. “God, give me eyes to see, ears to hear and a way to protect her.
“Thank You,” he murmured when he found the footprint of a man’s boot in the soft ground. The imprint was different than the one he’d seen overlooking the ranch but it was possible the man had more than one set of footwear. He followed the direction it pointed, his eyes glued to the ground for another track. He reached a thin strip of grass without finding another track and straightened. His body ached and not from the position he’d held as he crept across the ground. Worry and failure clamored at his bones. There had to be a clue. Where would the man have taken her? He could not afford to waste time searching in the wrong direction. His ribs clamped down so hard it hurt to suck in air. The man had already committed a murder. Another would make little difference to him.
“Oh,
God. Protect her.” The whispered words ripped from his throat.
He forced himself to take in a slow breath and released it just as slowly. Where would the man go? Where would Seth go if he wanted to kidnap a young woman?
Mentally, he reviewed the surrounding area he had grown familiar with as he guarded Jayne. In a tiny clearing he remembered a circle of rocks that had indicated someone had once built a campfire there. The grass had been undisturbed when he’d found it so it hadn’t been used recently. But perhaps someone else had discovered it and now used the spot.
He studied his surroundings to get his bearings. The place would be a ten-minute hike to his left, through some thick bushes. He would have to go slowly in order not to alert the Englishman. And he prayed this was the correct direction.
Parting the branches of the trees carefully, searching for a spongy area to place his foot, he started toward the spot.
He had stopped praying after Frank’s death, but had started again since his arrival at the ranch. Now he prayed with urgency. He’d do his best to rescue Jayne and believe God would help.
If she was still alive.
He grabbed the nearest tree and leaned against the rough trunk as the words screamed through his head. Would he fail yet again to protect those he cared about?
Jayne, I love you. Please be safe.
Strength returned to his limbs. He stilled the urgency pressing at him to hurry, and made his careful, silent way toward the spot.
If she wasn’t there…
He would not think of it.
But should it be true, he’d search to the ends of the earth until he found her.
He must be getting close and stopped to strain for any sound that would let him know if people were at the clearing. A rustle. A snuffling like a horse chewing grass. Satisfied that someone lay ahead he took a moment to plan his next move.
* * *
Harry jerked awake and glowered at Jayne. “I’m tired of this game.” He lurched to his feet.
Jayne shrank back, her heart tightening. What would he do to her? She pushed her fear aside. Do something to distract him, she told herself. Think. What could she do? “What’s so important about this key?” He had murdered for it. And likely would not hesitate to do so again.