Free The Texan's Reward by Jodi Thomas

minutes, they’d
    change their minds and name another.

    She shoved the covers aside and slowly scooted her legs to the floor. With her hands on the iron railing, she
    moved from the bed to the invalid’s chair. The movements might look like only a small victory, but Nell
    considered it a mountain conquered when she no longer had to cal for assistance to use the chamber pot.

    If Gypsy had left the wheelchair near, she might have been able to twist enough to get in it. But the housekeeper
    had rolled the chair where Mary Ruth always insisted it be . . . out of the way in case Nell cried out in the night
    and the nurse had to rush across the room in the shadows. The chair by the window might as well have been a
    hundred miles away. She’d never be able to walk to it.

    Nel struggled back to the bed and reached for her brush. Hopeful y, Gypsy would wake up in time to help her
    dress before Jacob came in from the barn. Nell felt like swearing. She’d been so tired last night, she hadn’t told
    Gypsy or Marla to sleep across the hall. They were probably both downstairs drinking coffee, totally unaware
    that she was awake.

    Leaning onto her pil ows, Nell listened, waiting for the sound of footsteps on the stairs. They’d check on her as
    soon as it was light, she told herself, hating her helplessness.

    In the silent dawn, Nel heard the sound of a rider coming from the direction of town. It took her a moment to
    realize that whoever it was traveled fast. A dangerous thing to do in the shadows. During the day, riders passed
    by the house heading for the ranches past the tracks, but the trail was rarely used after dark. The ground wasn’t
    level and curved enough times to be dangerous at night unless the traveler knew the path well.

    She pushed herself up as she realized the rider must be heading straight toward them. What might have
    happened that could be so important someone in town had to notify them at once? Dalton. If there was trouble
    in town, Parker would send for the ranger who slept in her barn. Jacob had backed the old man up a hundred
    times over the years. Maybe he was needed now.

    Nel knew Jacob wel enough to bet he’d already be on his feet, probably with his gun in his hand.

    She expected the rider to slow, pul up his horse at the broken gate, but he didn’t. The horse thundered past her
    window at full speed.

    Nel clawed at the sheets, wishing she could see out. A shot rang out in the gray dawn with the sharp pop of a
    whip. Glass shattered and echoed across her bedroom.

    Nel jerked, remembering how, months ago, the same sound rang in her ears a moment before pain exploded
    through her body.

    She’d felt helpless that day. As helpless as she did now.

    Other shots rang from the barn in rapid succession as the intruder rode past the house and barn. Then she heard
    Gypsy scream and footsteps tapping up the stairs. A heartbeat later, the front door sounded like it had been
    rammed, and heavy stomps took the stairs in great strides.

    “Nell!” Jacob yelled from the hallway.

    “Yes.” Nell tried to cal back, but fear choked her answer.

    Then, as always, he was there, her own private Texas Ranger ready to fight whatever frightened her. His big Colt
    was in his right hand, his rifle in his left. “Are you all right?” he asked as he crossed to the window.

    “I think so,” she answered, realizing his boots crunched glass when he moved from one window to the other.
    “What happened?”

    “Someone rode past and fired at your window. I returned a few shots, but I don’t think I hit him.”

    Light fil ed the room enough now to see his movements. He looked angry, deadly, but Nel was glad to see him.
    He bent over her wheelchair at the window, then laid his rifle across the arms of the chair and holstered his Colt.

    He turned up the lamp Gypsy left burning low, then crossed to Nell. “Are you sure you’re al right? There’s glass
    everywhere.”

    “I’m fine.” She spread her hands out