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Claiming the Cowboy's Heart
Linda Ford
A HAVEN OUT WESTAfter witnessing her fiancé’s murder, Jayne Gardiner won’t let herself be caught on the wrong side of a gun again. But a disastrous first lesson in self-defense has left her with a wounded cowboy. She insists on nursing the handsome stranger back to health—whether he wants it or not!Getting waylaid by a wild shot has definitely put a hitch in Seth Collins’s step—and plans. Duty may call him home, but Seth can’t resist lingering on Eden Valley Ranch to teach the English beauty to shoot. And when a shadowy figure from Jayne’s past resurfaces, Seth’s sudden urge to protect her has nothing to do with duty.Cowboys of Eden Valley: Forging a future in Canada’s west country
A Haven Out West
After witnessing her fiancé’s murder, Jayne Gardiner won’t let herself be caught on the wrong side of a gun again. But a disastrous first lesson in self-defense has left her with a wounded cowboy. She insists on nursing the handsome stranger back to health—whether he wants it or not!
Getting waylaid by a wild shot has definitely put a hitch in Seth Collins’s step—and plans. Duty may call him home, but Seth can’t resist lingering on Eden Valley Ranch to teach the English beauty to shoot. And when a shadowy figure from Jayne’s past resurfaces, Seth’s sudden urge to protect her has nothing to do with duty.
Cowboys of Eden Valley: Forging a future in Canada’s west country
Jayne turned to meet Seth’s gaze.
“I very much regret that I am responsible for your pain.”
He studied her for a moment. “Who did you see shot to death?”
His question jolted through her, bringing all the memories of that day forward in a flash. “My fiancé, Oliver.” She twisted the towel she held, knotting her fingers into the material.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” He lifted his hand and caught her fingers. His hand was large, work hardened and steadying.
She tore her gaze from their linked hands and stared into his eyes. Her imagination read a dozen things into his gaze—comfort, concern, perhaps even the offer of protection.
She jerked her gaze away, stepped back to hang the towel over the back of the chair. The last thing she wanted was to be taken care of by anyone. “I’ll be fine on my own.” Her words were firm, almost as if daring him to think otherwise.
LINDA FORD
lives on a ranch in Alberta, Canada. Growing up on the prairie and learning to notice the small details it hides gave her an appreciation for watching God at work in His creation. Her upbringing also included being taught to trust God in everything and through everything—a theme that resonates in her stories. Threads of another part of her life are found in her stories—her concern for children and their future. She and her husband raised fourteen children—four homemade, ten adopted. She currently shares her home and life with her husband, a grown son, a live-in paraplegic client and a continual (and welcome) stream of kids, kids-in-law, grandkids and assorted friends and relatives.
Claiming the Cowboy’s Heart
Linda Ford
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows.
—Luke 12:7
To my sister, Leona, and my friend Brenda, as you struggle with so many challenges. Remember how much God values you.
Contents
Chapter One (#ub6433903-5893-5ffe-96fc-876e33ca0a9c)
Chapter Two (#u63ff8b09-f7ad-5890-ada0-2a6a11562e68)
Chapter Three (#u20b4a7f3-183c-5c78-bb87-3259b217ebea)
Chapter Four (#u55a37604-acd9-55a6-8b89-c2b7b7d17c09)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Eden Valley Ranch, Alberta, Canada
August 1882
“I didn’t expect it to be so heavy.” Jayne Gardiner held the pistol between her fingers. She couldn’t bear the cold feeling of the stock against her palm. Her hand trembled and the shiny steel barrel winked in the sun like an evil tormentor. Panic clawed up her throat like threatening flood waters. She struggled to push it back. She knew firsthand the destructive power of a gun.
She stiffened her spine. Fear would not be allowed to rule her life. She would learn to defend herself and those she cared about. She’d be ready to take action if ever another life-or-death situation arose.
Behind her, her friend Mercy laughed. “It won’t bite.” But then, Mercy lived for adventure. That’s why she’d accompanied them on this trip west. As if ready for an escapade, she wore suede riding pants that she’d purchased before they left Fort Benton on their journey to western Canada and the Eden Valley Ranch, and her mahogany hair was pulled back in a braid.
Beside her, Sybil twisted her hands in the fabric of her fashionable pinstripe blue walking skirt. She completed the trio that recently arrived from England. More reserved like Jayne, she wanted to come on this visit to Canada to get over her parents’ deaths.
Jayne had come to visit her brother, Eddie—owner and operator of the Eden Valley Ranch—and his wife, Linette, though some might think she’d come to put the past out of her mind. She tightened her lips. People who thought that would be wrong. She didn’t intend to forget the lessons her past had taught her.
Sybil shuddered, causing the golden curls that had escaped the elegant roll to bounce around her shoulders. Modern wisdom said a woman with curly hair would be of gentle temperament. Sybil lived up to the expectation. “I hate guns.”
Jayne sucked back an echoing shudder. Her brown hair was thick and straight, supposedly indicating a strong-willed woman. So far, she’d proven the statement false but she meant to change that starting now. “I hate what guns do but I want to learn to shoot one.” She studied the target placed about fifty feet away.
The young women were in a grove of trees that sheltered them from the wind and provided slices of shade depending on the position of the sun. They were far enough from the ranch buildings to not alarm Eddie, Linette, or any of the other caring people there who saw no need for Jayne to learn to shoot a gun. Eddie had said it wouldn’t serve any purpose. It wouldn’t bring Oliver back. And, he’d carefully pointed out, there were plenty of cowboys around the place should it be necessary to shoot a gun. What’s more, he’d said with utmost conviction, he didn’t think such an occasion would likely occur.
Jayne had tipped her chin and vowed she’d learn with or without Eddie’s help. It wasn’t some foolish notion of undoing the past. She would not allow herself to ever again feel as helpless as she did on that horrible day. The events had been burned permanently into her brain.
The day she had in mind had been sunny and warm after days of damp sky. Her fiancé, Oliver Spencer, had suggested spending the afternoon together instead of abandoning her to her own amusements while he pursued his as so often happened. On several occasions, she’d objected mildly to the amount of time Oliver spent in gambling establishments. The promise of some quality time together, just the two of them, had caused her to laugh at his jokes, though, as usual, she failed to understand them. He must have thought her so innocent.
They’d been walking side by side along a street lined with shops inviting their business. She had glanced in one window and noticed a beautiful display of lace gloves and thought of purchasing a pair, but she hadn’t suggested a stop because she and Oliver were discussing the future. She didn’t want to distract him.
“We’ll live in the house with Mother and Father. There’s more than enough room. No need to own another house.”
Did he mean she would go from being under her parents’ direct supervision to being under his parents’? She wanted to be a woman with her own home. Of course, it made sense to start with. “Will we get our own home when we have children?” A hot blush had flooded her body at the intimate topic.
Before Oliver could answer, a man had jumped from an alley brandishing a gun and demanded Oliver give him everything.
Jayne had shrunk back into the recessed doorway of the building beside them and watched as Oliver emptied his pockets of quite a lot of cash.
“It’s all I have,” he’d said, his voice hard with anger.
The thief had jammed the money into his pocket. “You know that’s not all I want.” He’d waved the pistol. “Where’s the key?”
Jayne had glanced about, hoping for rescue but no one turned down the street toward them. No one noticed the robbery.
“I want it back,” the robber had growled.
Jayne had swallowed hard. People passed at the intersection a few yards away. She tried to call for help but her voice failed her.
Oliver had continued to say he had nothing more. He’d even turned his pockets out.
“Where is it? I can’t prove it but I know you cheated. You took everything I have.” The thief had lurched toward Oliver.
She’d never seen Oliver move so quickly. His arm slashed across the man’s wrist. The pistol dropped to the cobblestones and he’d kicked it toward Jayne.
“Pick it up. Shoot him,” Oliver had ordered as he and the thief tussled.
Jayne had stared at the gun just two feet away but she couldn’t move. She’d never touched a gun, let alone shot one. She didn’t even know how.
Oliver’s head had hit the ground with a thud and he’d lain stunned.
The thief had grabbed the pistol. A metallic click had rung through Jayne’s racing thoughts.
“Get up,” the thief had ordered.
Oliver had staggered to his feet.
“I’m done playing around. You know what I want. Give it to me.”
Oliver had swayed.
Someone from the nearby intersection had called out. “He’s got a gun.”
Then everything had happened so fast Jayne couldn’t say what came first. A shot had rung out. Oliver had pitched to the pavement. The thief had raced down the alley. A crowd had surrounded them.
Jayne had hovered in the doorway, too frightened to move while blood pooled around Oliver. Someone had leaned over him. A man had looked up, seen her and waved her forward. Her legs numb, her heart beating erratically, she’d managed to make the few steps and knelt at Oliver’s side. “You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.” She hadn’t believed the words she’d uttered.
He’d caught her hand. He’d struggled to speak past the gurgling in his throat. Something about gambling and winning from the man who had shot him. Then his words ended in a gasp. Gentle hands had pried her away. Someone had taken her home.
For days she’d sat in a straight-backed chair beside the cold fireplace and replayed the scene in her mind. The skin on her face had grown taut every time she’d come to the spot where Oliver had kicked the gun toward her. Fear as deep as the English Channel had shaken her insides. Oliver was dead because she hadn’t been able to act. Hadn’t known what to do with the gun that lay so close to her. All over some gambling money. The world had gone crazy.
One day Bess, her quiet younger sister, had pulled a chair to Jayne’s knees and taken her hands. “Jayne, I have always admired you for your determination and sensibleness. It amazes me you sit here day after day. I beg you to get up and start living again.”
Jayne had looked into Bess’s sweet face and made a decision. She would not be defeated by this event. With God’s help she’d use it to grow stronger. She’d pushed to her feet and hugged her sister. “Bess, you are right. Never again will I feel so helpless. So useless.”
Bess’s smile had widened with relief then faltered at the conviction in Jayne’s voice. “What are you going to do?”
She had no firm plan at the moment. “I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do. I’m not going to be a helpless woman.”
That conviction had carried her away from home and across the North American continent to a new, inviting country.
Now she lifted her arm and looked at her two friends in the grove of trees. “I will learn to shoot.”
Mercy steadied Jayne’s hand. “Hold it like this. Brace with your other hand. Look down the barrel to the target.” She guided Jayne into position then stepped back.
Jayne’s arms lowered until the gun pointed at the ground. “If I hadn’t been 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.”
