Heart of Trust (Hearts of the West, #1)

Chapter 7

Jake grasped the windowsill and pulled himself to his feet. Shards of glass sliced into his fingers, and the room tilted around him.

He stumbled forward, dragged the table away from the door, and eased onto the porch.

The boards swayed beneath his boots, and he plastered a hand to one of the posts.

Pounding claimed his head, and sticky warmth coated the side of his face. Black danced along the edges of his vision, framing the man who stood before him in shadows.

Dalton shifted, rifle in hand, expression unreadable.

Jake grabbed the porch railing before he could fall on his face. If Dalton had trouble in mind, he was in no shape to stop him.

“Thank you.” Whatever his motivation, Dalton had shot and killed Jensen and driven away his men. Either he wanted the ranch badly enough to kill for it, or he’d taken it upon himself to help them.

Yet why would he do that?

The shadows retreated from his vision.

Dalton switched his rifle to his other hand. “You all right?”

“Better than I thought I’d be.”

Unless Dalton planned to gun him down where he stood.

Dalton gave a wry smile, walked to his horse, and shoved his rifle into the scabbard hanging from the saddle.

A sign of a man who maybe didn’t want trouble.

But why? Why, after all his threats?

“Sir, wait.” Those could be foolish words. He could let Dalton ride away and hope he never returned, but that wouldn’t answer his questions. That wouldn’t put this matter to rest once and for all.

If such a thing could be done.

No, Dalton had some trick up his sleeve. A man like him would want something in return. Something like the land.

And maybe that would be for the best. Better that he and Georgia had no property and little money than to be six feet under.

Dalton swung around, the motion slow, and furrowed his brow.

Jake stumbled down the porch steps. “Why? Why did you come? What do you want?”

Dalton crossed his arms. “I’d be no kinda man if I let him murder you and your wife.” He pulled his hat from his head and slapped it against his thigh.

Silence hung between them, muting the normal daytime sounds of the ranch.

Dalton settled his hat on his head, mounted up, and turned his horse in the direction of his ranch.

“What just happened?” Georgia’s soft voice echoed behind him.

He turned, pulled her to him, and held on. “I don’t know.”

They were alive. Somehow they were alive.

She untangled herself from Jake’s hold, every muscle in her body quivering and tears stinging her eyes. But she could collapse in a shaky heap and have a good cry later. Namely after she’d seen to the gash on Jake’s head. The gash that was even now oozing blood down the side of his face and neck.

She fumbled for his hand and slipped her fingers through his. “C-come inside. I need to—to tend your head.”

Still holding his hand, she dragged herself up the steps and into the house. Glass crunched under her feet, and the scent of gunpowder still hung in the air.

Help me. Oh, help me.

She released his hand and brushed a couple of shards of glass off one of the chairs. “I’ve got to find the medical supplies. You should sit.”

Without a word, he settled into the chair, face pale and lips pressed into a thin line.

Did he see the men he’d shot and maybe killed, or was he merely in pain?

She set the box of supplies on the table and opened it with fingers that shook like she’d been in the cold for hours. “Oh, I’ll need water too. And—and it should be warm.” If only her brain weren’t so scattered.

She handed him a wad of linen. “Here. Press that against your head to slow the bleeding while I...while I heat the water.”

He caught her hand. “You need to breathe. You’re all right.”

Breathe. How could she do that properly given the tightness constricting her chest? And how could she be about to fall apart when she needed to be tending to Jake’s wound?

She tugged away from his grip. “I’d better get that water.”

Black edged at the corners of the room, and she gulped in a breath.

Water. Heated water.

She could do that. She would do that.

“Cold water’s fine.”

“No...”

“Come sit down. Better that I get the bleeding stopped before you start cleaning it and all anyway.”

As if of their own accord, her feet carried her back to the table. All strength departed from her legs, and she dropped into a chair. “I’m sorry. So, so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I...”

He adjusted the linen against his head and winced. “It’s all right.”

Except it wasn’t. He was sitting there bleeding, and she was on the verge of descending into chaos.

Yet he did have a point about stopping the bleeding first.

“Why?” The word tripped from her tongue. “Why would he help us? Is he going to come back and demand we give him the ranch? Is this some kind of trick?”

He ran his tongue across his lips. “I don’t know. He had as good of a chance as any to take it, but he didn’t. I don’t really know what he’s up to. Maybe it’s better to let it lay. Not ask too many questions.” His shoulders rose and fell. “All I know is that we’re alive and nobody is bothering us right now.”

Yes. She had to remember that.

They were alive and hadn’t sustained serious injuries. God had protected them.

Thank You, Lord.

And now she had to collect herself enough that she didn’t fall apart when she had things she needed to be doing.

Things like taking care of Jake’s graze. Things like sweeping the glass and other debris from the floor. Things like forgetting everything that’d happened in the last hours, days, and weeks.

That last task would be far easier said than done.

She curled her arms to her middle and squeezed her burning eyes shut.

She and Jake were both safe. That was what mattered.

Dalton had come to their rescue for some unknown reason. And that reason would be just another thing that would keep her from sleeping at night.

What did he stand to gain from helping them?

Did he think they’d hand the ranch over to him in thanks? Did he think his help would earn their trust?

None of it made sense.

Or perhaps he had no ulterior motives.

Yet such a thing was impossible with a man like Dalton. He was like Jensen—only slightly less violent toward them so far. And who knew how long that would last.

“I can get you a drink of water.”

Of course he would be thinking more about her than himself. But he didn’t need to stand up.

“I’m fine.” At least in the sense of not needing water. In most other ways, she was most certainly not fine. But she’d sat here and stewed long enough. “Do you think the bleeding has slowed enough for me to clean and bandage it?”

He lowered the linen, studied it, and nodded. “Looks like it.”

She pushed to her feet, gave her legs a moment to steady as much as they could, then retrieved a bowl of water.

Please, Lord, give me strength. Be my strength.

Because that was the only way she could get through the rest of this day and the days to come.

Darkness filled the room, mingling with his exhaustion, but sleep wouldn’t come. Probably thanks to the throbbing that wouldn’t leave his head alone. But he could stand a little throbbing. If the bullet had hit him a mere half of an inch to the left, he wouldn’t be here with Georgia right now.

She shifted beside him, and the mattress creaked.

“Jake?” Her whisper erased the last vestiges of elusive sleep.

“Something wrong?” He lifted his arm, and she laid her head on his chest.

A foolish question. Of course something was wrong. She’d seen more today than anyone should ever have to see.

“I keep seeing it. Over and over. That man who broke down the door. Every time I close my eyes, I see it ending differently. Instead of him getting shot, it’s...” A harsh intake of breath cut off the rest of her sentence.

He rubbed her shoulder. “I know. I’m seeing things too.”

The men he’d killed in the war. The men he’d shot today. The men he couldn’t escape.

“Do you ever forget? Do you think I’ll be able to sleep? I mean, will I dream?”

He closed his burning eyes. “I’ll be right here if you do.”

Because she likely would dream. As would he.

Lord, bring her comfort. Only You can comfort her.

He blinked the stinging from his eyes. “We can talk if you think that’d help.”

She shifted against him. “I don’t know. Maybe it would. But not about today. And not about the last few weeks. Not about anything that’s happened lately really. I want to be able to laugh again. I want to be able to be on my own property without worrying someone will ride up and torment me. I don’t want to have to wonder if you’ll come home beaten.”

She would never have the complete security she wanted on this earth. Still, if only he could give it to her.

The warmth of her breath fanned his cheek.

He tilted his head, the ache gaining new life, and brushed his lips to her forehead. “We’re gonna sleep tonight, then we’ll get up in the morning and clean up the mess.”

At least he’d been able to stop Georgia from going on a sweeping and cleaning rampage after she’d tended his head. She’d needed the rest just as much as he had.

“You should rest. I’m perfectly capable of sweeping up glass.”

“Even if I rest, I’ll still have a headache and a cut.”

She huffed. “And if you rest, both of those things will heal more quickly.”

Now that sounded a little more like the Georgia he knew.

He closed his eyes. “I’m gonna try to get some of that rest now.” It might not be possible tonight, but it never hurt to try.

And if he couldn’t sleep, he needed to focus his mind on how much he had to be thankful for.

Four days should be enough to erase the echo of gunfire from her mind.

Apparently it wasn’t.

Four days should be enough to settle her nerves so that she didn’t jump at every little noise when Jake was gone.

Again, it wasn’t.

She fished a wet apron from the basket at her feet and secured it to the clothesline.

He’d be back soon from purchasing the few cattle they could afford. She’d assured him she’d be fine. And she would be.

God, I know You’re with me. Please help me to not be afraid and on edge all the time.

She pinned one sock after another to the line, and a stiff breeze toyed with them.

Jake would be fine riding around. His headache had been gone for a couple of days. Besides, there’d been no threats since Dalton killed Jensen.

Surely things could stay that way.

She pressed her lips together and grabbed a towel from the basket.

Hoofbeats sounded behind her.

She whirled around, the towel falling into the grass at her feet.

Dalton pulled his horse to a halt near the house, dismounted, and walked toward her, hat in hand.

Her feet rooted to the ground.

No, he’d never attempted to hurt her, but...

He stopped about five feet away from her. “Ma’am, is Aymes around?”

She couldn’t tell him Jake wasn’t here. That would be nothing but foolish. “May I ask why you need to see him?”

There was something knowing about the way he studied her face.

She wouldn’t get much past him, but she could try.

He gave a single nod. “Tell him that as long as he doesn’t encroach on my land I won’t encroach on his.”

Jake had never once given Dalton any reason to think he wanted Dalton’s ranch. Where had the man come up with that? Or was it just his way of saying he planned to leave them alone?

“I’ll tell him.” And while Dalton was here and didn’t seem to be much of a threat, she could get some answers to the questions that’d been burning through her mind ever since Dalton had shot and killed Jensen.

That was if Dalton would give her a straight answer. Something he didn’t seem to be too fond of doing.

Or maybe she was a fool for not letting him leave as soon as possible.

But... “Why did you help us?”

He stared at her, expression unreadable.

“Why?” And now she sounded supremely ungrateful. “It’s not that I’m not thankful. It’s that I don’t understand why you would help us after you threatened us. Unless you only wanted to stop Jensen from gaining this land so you could have it for yourself.”

“I reckon a man can realize when he’s been wrong.”

No, it wasn’t exactly an apology, but it was a clear indication that their trouble with Dalton had also reached an end—one much less violent than Jensen’s.

“I would think so.” She managed what was likely a faint smile. “Thank you for what you did, Mr. Dalton.”

He tipped his head to her then turned and walked to his horse.

To the tune of retreating hoofbeats, she returned to the laundry basket and grabbed a pair of Jake’s trousers.

Thank You.

No, it wasn’t an eloquent prayer in the least, but it was truthful.

Their troubles—at least with Jensen and Dalton—appeared to have been resolved.

She pinned the trousers to the clothesline and followed them with one of her dresses, a nightgown, and a few more pairs of socks.

More hoofbeats thudded against the ground.

This time, she did a slow turn.

Jake dismounted his gelding, hurried to her, pulled her into his arms, and pressed a kiss to her lips.

She snaked her arms around his waist and kissed him back. After a moment, she eased away. “I’m glad to see you too.”

A smile curved his lips. “You could tell I was happy to see you?”

She tipped her head to the side. “Now that I think of it, I’m not sure how I would know such a thing.”

He chuckled.

“Did you get the cattle?”

“Five head of them. They’re grazing as we speak.”

“That’s wonderful.” No, it wasn’t a big herd by any means, but it was a start. “Dalton was here.”

His features turned hard. “Everything all right?”

She answered with a nod. “He basically said he was wrong for threatening us and that he’s not going to do it again. Those weren’t his exact words, but that’s the meaning behind them.”

The hardness fled. “Good. But I’m sorry you had to talk to him. I know you didn’t like that.”

“I was fine.” After she’d figured out he wasn’t there to do harm. “It’s over. It’s really over.”

Yes, they’d face more trials in the future, but for now she could bask in the fact that this one had come to an end.

Thank You.

This kind of peace wouldn’t last forever, but he could be grateful for it while it did.

He strode toward the house, pulled his hat from his head, and adjusted the bandage wound around his skull.

At least the headache had gone away a few days ago.

The windows gaped at him, a few shards of glass clinging to the edges. Someday, they’d have enough money saved up for new glass, but for now, the shutters would work just fine should they need to close up the house.

But a new barn came before that. And he needed to get the corral reconstructed.

Tasks he’d almost never had the opportunity to complete thanks to Jensen. But they were also tasks he had to do because of Jensen.

The thud of his boots echoed against the porch, and he eased open the door.

Georgia glanced up from where she sat at the table, one of his shirts in one hand and a needle and thread in the other. “The cattle are doing well?”

He gave a nod and hung his hat on the peg by the door. “Fine and dandy.”

She set her mending in a basket by her chair. “You’re back a little earlier than I thought you’d be. Supper won’t be ready for another thirty minutes or so.”

Sure enough, a pot of stew bubbled on the stove.

He extended his hand to her. “If you don’t need to tend to it, we can sit out on the porch. The breeze feels good.”

With a smile, she took his hand, stood, and headed with him onto the porch.

After she’d sat on the top step, he lowered himself beside her.

The breeze stirred the air and pushed away the heat of the day.

Georgia sighed, a sound that spoke of contentment rather than of boredom or frustration. “I almost can’t believe we’re still here.”

Even though Jensen had done his best to see that they weren’t.

“Could’ve avoided it all if we’d stayed in Tennessee.”

She looked at him, brow furrowed. “You regret being here?”

“No.” He propped his elbows on his knees. “What I regret is not realizing how serious he was until it was too late. And that I put you in danger.”

“Jake...” She leaned over and rested her hand on his arm. “That’s not what you did.”

She loved him too much to see his mistakes. No matter how much he tried to get her to understand, she wouldn’t. “Do you regret being here?”

She pressed her lips together for a second then relaxed them. “I did for a little bit while everything was going on. But I don’t now.”

She’d had every reason to regret living out here and being tormented by Jensen and Dalton.

She rubbed his arm. “But all that’s over now. We’ll rebuild the barn and the corral. The herd will grow in time. We’ll make something out of this ranch.”

But none of that could change the fact that lives had been lost.

Her hand stilled on his arm. “Are you all right?”

“Just thinking.” About things he didn’t need to remind her of. Not that she’d likely forgotten them.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I love you.”

She tilted her head up, and a slight smile played across her lips. “And I love you.”