“Oh.” Moving again, she stopped in the puddle of sunlight pouring in the window. She liked the heat from the sun. She’d told him once it was like touching light, though she had no idea what ‘light’ was, she equated it with warmth.
Clenching his fists, he stared at her and tried to pry through the veil of silence, prick any flaw in the façade. If that damn doppelganger had somehow managed to learn his secret…but nothing. No, she walked like Olivia, spoke like Olivia—sounded like Olivia.
She was truly alive.
Jason… Sam’s voice, cool, rational and unrepentant called. I know you can hear me.
They wouldn’t be put off for much longer. Walking to the window, he glanced down to see his brother on the opposite walk. He wasn’t alone. Jo, Scarlett, Mariska, and Delilah were out there and it looked as though several of the Morning Stars had joined them. Though his gaze had been fixed on Olivia, Sam’s attention switched to him when Jason appeared.
I need time Sam. He’d never asked his brother in this fashion, and he wasn’t asking now. I will explain later…
His older brother squinted. Are you safe?
Too many ways he could answer that question, but physically he was fine. She was no threat to him, had never been a threat in that way. Yes. I’ll answer your questions later.
Sam nodded once accepting his word, and reached for Scarlett’s elbow. Whatever he said to them, it got the others moving. Buck and Delilah, however, stayed. The dreamwalker leaned against one of the posts and gave him a pointed look. It was a way to show support, Jason supposed.
“Something else is wrong,” Olivia said, her hand on his arm. The delicate fingers were slender, and despite his surety of the years that had passed, she remained tiny—fragile—young. Too fragile.
The idea of her death had cut him to the core, rattling the memories he’d buried as deep as he could and sealed away lest anyone ever use them to hurt her. “I am concerned about you,” and he couldn’t describe how much. “I wish I could soften the loss and we need to make some decisions.” Could he send her away? Perhaps back east to the school she’d been going to? He needed more information about her enrollment. Sending her away might take her out of the line of fire—or he could be sending her beyond his reach to protect.
Unacceptable on every level.
Harrison Miller had maintained extensive business interests in Boston, as had MacPherson. He clenched a fist—too many damn questions and no way to ask without alarming her.
The feather light touch of her fingers trailed over his clenched fist. “You’re upset. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the school.”
“Why didn’t you?” He forced his muscles to relax, though it didn’t prove hard as she traced the line of his knuckles until he opened his fist and turned his hand palm up. The caress of her nails over his skin a soothing torment. Scanning the street below, he drew her away from the window. The room truly needed furniture.
“I thought my father would have,” she swallowed hard and leaned her forehead to his arm. Cupping her cheek with his free hand, he offered his silent support.
Need to take away the sadness in her voice stormed across him. Her father had not always approved of his friendship with Olivia and with good reason. Jason was not the right man for any woman. He needed to get her as far away from Dorado as he could manage. “Did you like the school?”
“It was—it was different. I liked what I learned.” She straightened, retreating from him and he let her go. She hesitated.
“Three steps to your left is the central wall.” He’d moved her away from the window.
“Thank you.” She went to the wall and began to explore the room again. “I can read and write in braille, though I have to wait for my slates to be shipped. I decided since I was taking the trip alone to have my steamer trunk and my other things come later.”
Alone. “You journeyed from Boston to Dorado completely alone?” He ignored the rest of her explanation and focused on that singular fact.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Jason Kane.” Her booted feet made a shuffling scrape sound as she pivoted and faced him. Her echolocation ability had never been in question. “I’m a grown woman and I’m here, aren’t I?”
“That is an incredibly long journey…” One he’d undertaken himself several times, and it meant weeks of shifting modes of transport from coaches to trains to coaches again. She’d been on her own, vulnerable, and exposed for weeks. The school would have a lot to answer for; she should have at least merited an escort.
“So?” Olivia’s scowl warned him he pushed at her temper. “I went to the Perkins School to learn and I did. I can ply a trade now—I can write. I can read. I am certainly quite capable of sitting in a seat while others drive a carriage or coach.” Pride for her accomplishments threaded beneath the words. “And these are all good things, because I will need them.” Her lower lip trembled, and the heat of her anger evaporated. She won her struggle against tears. “I will need to make arrangements for a place to live and to find work…”
The only person in hundreds of miles that would give an unmarried woman with no family a job of any repute was his father—and even Jed might question what position Olivia could fulfill blind. None of that mattered to Jason. She didn’t need work—he would take care of her.
“You can live at the ranch. I will make the arrangements and you won’t have to worry about anything.” No sooner had the words left his mouth then he realized it was the only place he’d allow her to be. At the Flying K, most of his enemies couldn’t reach her and she would be behind the shelter of his family and their allies.
She would also be exposed to the wild, raw talent of the untrained gifts, but that could be managed. He’d discuss her care with Miss Annabeth and Lena would definitely look out for her…
“I’m not moving to the ranch.” Anger lurked beneath the layers of sadness in her voice. “What will people say? What will your father say?”
“I don’t care what people say.” He never had. “It is the only place you are going.” It wasn’t open for negotiation. “The town remains insecure, and you need to be somewhere others can—” He cut the thought off and swallowed the rest of the sentence unspoken.
“Where someone can take care of me, Jason?” She’d made her way around to the door of the apartment and wrapped her fingers around the handle. “I’m on the second floor of an empty general store, in a town several miles from where I grew up. I arrived by coach from San Antonio after taking a stage down from Kansas. Before that, I’d been on a train through several cities, including a two day stay in Chicago. I do not need anyone to take care of me.”
“Olivia…” Instead of listening, she turned the handle and opened the door. He shot across the room to follow her, but she’d already begun to descend the steps. “Where are you going?”
“I am assuming there is some type of inn in the town. You would have to have built one. I can stay there until my other things arrive and I’ve secured employment.” She continued her descent and had claimed her walking stick by the time he made it to the first floor.
Even if the innkeeper were ready for guests, he’d hardly rent a room to an unmarried woman. Unless he or one of his family insisted—and though their population was small, they were growing. They didn’t have time for this nonsense. “You’re going to the ranch. It’s the safest place for you.” Did she honestly believe he would let her just walk out into the unfinished town and settle amongst strangers? Instead of listening to him, she located and retrieved her valise. Plucking it out of her hand, he blocked her access to the door. “Olivia, this is not a game. You cannot stay in Dorado.”
“You are not in charge of me, Jason. You are my dearest friend and I love you. But I am home, and I have to make the best of a terrible situation. The only thing I can do is begin by finding my place here…”
The uncomplicated declaration kicked the air out of his lungs and he ground his teeth together in frustration. “You can have a place at the r
anch…”
“The ranch is for Kanes,” she reminded him. “It is your home. It is the home to your family…”
“As well as nearly a hundred other souls. All of whom have a home on the Flying K.” She was going even if he had to pick her up and carry her out there himself. “It is not safe for you in Dorado.”
“You’re here.” She braced her walking stick between her palms.
“That doesn’t make it safe.” In fact it made it a hundred times worse. If Blade and Masterson were on their way here, then he would not have her in the line of fire. The doppelganger’s presence only increased the hazard to her. She had no way to defend herself against his enemies.
“Something else is wrong.” Triumph thrummed in the words and a sad smile curved her lips. Her intelligence had never been in doubt. “You’ve never treated me differently for being blind, Jason. Please don’t start now.”
He had two choices—embrace the faith she showed him and tell her the truth. Or alienate her and send her as far away as possible. The former would draw her too close and taint her with the danger surrounding him. The latter would carve out the last slice of his heart, but she would be safer.
“Except you are blind, Olivia, and only a fool wouldn’t take that into account.” Stabbing himself might have been less painful. A violent twitch in the back of his mind, but he slammed the memories down. He’d locked her away before, deep down where no one—not Miller, not Kid, not anyone—could dig her out.
He’d experienced what it felt like to lose her once, it would not happen again.
Chapter 4
Olivia, The Flying K
Olivia fumed silently as she rode along in the back of a wagon. She’d argued with Jason for an hour, but he’d been immovable in his decision. Shuttled out of the empty store and into a wagon driven by two people he’d introduced as Buck and Delilah Morning Star, she was on her way to the ranch—without Jason. The strangers had been kind to her, but when she rebuffed their several attempts to draw her into conversation, they’d finally left her alone. What the hell was Jason thinking? Sending her to the ranch said she was his mistress, his property—but that hadn’t been his intention, that much she’d gleaned from his tone.
A bubble of hurt burned in her chest. Her parents were dead. Swallowing the hard lump of grief in her throat, she couldn’t wrap her mind around that news. It didn’t seem possible. Dead. The whole town dead. All those people she’d known growing up—yes, they were simply voices—but the reverend, his wife, and the children who’d played in the street beyond her windows. Gone.
Olivia sucked in a deep breath and tried to focus on anything but that whirlwind of torture. The hard wood beneath her bottom threatened bruises every time they bounced over a rut in the road. Fording an earlier stream had been a terrifying event as the wagon swayed perilously, but she’d endured it in stony silence. Every day had been an adventure into the unknown for the past three and a half years. The trip back east had been fraught with challenges and obstacles every step of the way, and she’d long since learned that her fear could cripple her or drive her further than she thought possible.
When she’d gone to the school, she would never have imagined taking the trip back to Dorado alone—relying only on her senses and what she’d learned. It had been a challenge, but one she’d succeeded at brilliantly. She should be celebrating her accomplishment—another rut bounced her and she grimaced. Gripping the side tightly, she steadied herself. “Would it be an inconvenience to slow down?”
The trotting horses slowed to a walk, the cadence of their hooves striking and the sway of the wagon decreasing. “The trail is rougher than I was expecting,” Buck apologized. “It might be easier for you to sit up here with us.”
“We should stop, Buck. Let’s shift some things around—or I could sit back there with you and help brace you.” Delilah’s lyrical voice was quite beautiful and different. Olivia had never heard another with that type of cadence to her words. It defied description…
A moment later the wagon swayed to a stop and Olivia worked her way to the rear of the wagon—careful of her skirt and her valise. Fortunately, Jason hadn’t loaded any supplies up with her when he’d dumped her inside like a sack of vegetables.
He didn’t dump me. Not really. He’d actually been extremely gentle, picking her up and placing her inside when she’d staunchly refused. No one stopped to intervene in their argument, even as she told him repeatedly she did not want to be shipped off to the ranch. She’d thought that the two taking her might have had something to say, but Jason spoke a few quiet words to Buck—words she’d barely been able to make out.
However, she’d heard one—one he’d emphasized.
“Let me help you…” A hand touched hers and she jerked back as if scalded.
“Please don’t.” It came out stiff, and unyielding. She really didn’t like people she didn’t know touching her. With so little control over who might walk up to her, controlling touch exerted her will on all interactions.
“I won’t hurt you,” Buck said gently, but he didn’t touch her again. “I wanted to help you get out.”
“Just tell me how far I have to go.” She blew out a breath. She’d been too angry with Jason to count and then bouncing around in the back had thrown off her perception.
“You are almost to the lip of the wagon. I lowered the gate.” Bless him, he tried.
“How far? A foot? Two?” She understood basic measurements and distance.
“A couple of feet. Come forward a couple more lengths, then sit and swing your legs out.” The patient explanation went a long way toward mollifying her upset. Careful as she could manage, she followed his instructions. When she shifted onto her sore bottom, and stretched her legs, they slipped off the side.
After blowing out a longer breath in an effort to steady her racing heart, she used the walking stick to determine distance to the ground, then scooted out the rest of the way. A breeze kicked up around her legs as her skirt bounced. Her legs complained of the abuse. The coach ride from San Antonio had been a long few days kept upright, and the weeks of travel beforehand had combined to leave her sore from head to toe.
Standing ached, but it also felt good.
The road was soft. Not quite muddy, more loamy, as though it had rained recently, but not in the last couple of days. The scent of grass and trees were all around her. The sun had moved from its direct overhead position—of course it had, it was later in the day. Turning her face toward the warmth, she identified west.
“How far back to Dorado?” she asked into the waiting silence because the other two were still with her, even if they said nothing.
“Miss Stark,” Buck again, “I think it would be better if we took you up to the house. If nothing else, you can talk to Jed and Miss Annabeth. We can get all of this sorted out.”
“There is nothing to sort out. Jason had no right to just banish me to the ranch because he is worried about a fever. Is there another bout of illness going around?” It was a calculated risk to use the information she’d overheard, rewarded by Delilah’s gasp.
“It’s about more than the illness that struck the town.” Buck recovered better, though consternation deepened his voice. “We have had many other related issues and your safety is important to Jason.”
“Such as?”
“Such as unfinished buildings, construction, and…” He hesitated, and Olivia frowned.
“And?” She prompted when he took too long to answer.
“Buck, she has a right to know.” Delilah added her support to Olivia’s cause.
“Thank you,” she murmured to the other woman.
“Perhaps she does,” Buck agreed. “But here is what I know…Jason is our friend. He has asked us to take care of you and to see you safely to his home. Once you are there and settled in, we can try to answer other questions, but I think Jason needs to be the one to answer them.”
It seemed so perfectly reasonable. “Jason is my friend, too.” He’d bee
n hers for much longer than they could possibly understand. “I don’t know you. I don’t want to go to the ranch house. I want to know what is going on.”
“Do you think Jason would send you away if not for the best of reasons?” Delilah edged a little closer and the lyrical note of her voice changed, it was subtle, but compelling. “He wants you to be safe. Can you trust him long enough for us to see you safely there? I promise, even if he won’t answer your questions. I or one of the others will.”
“Delilah.” Disagreement shadowed the word. “We can’t promise her that.”
“Maybe you can’t, but I can. Jason saved my life. Maybe he’s stubborn and doesn’t see what he’s doing, and maybe he does see and he is choosing to be this way, but Olivia is right about one thing, this is her life, too.” With those three sentences Delilah earned a sliver of Olivia’s trust.
“He saved your life?” What happened? How had Jason saved her? Hungry for any information about him, she tightened her grip on the walking stick.
“Yes, he did. Hush, Buck, this part I can tell—it’s my story.” Amusement and affection softened Delilah’s voice and Buck sighed his capitulation.
“Then let’s tell it in the wagon.”
Olivia grimaced. She wanted the story, not the wagon. “Is it a very long walk?” At their startled silence, she sighed. “I’ve been on a train or a coach for days and days. I haven’t really had a lot of opportunity to walk and I’m—my legs hurt.”
“We can walk for a bit, but the path isn’t smooth…” Concern about her ability to navigate was a familiar obstacle. Olivia didn’t begrudge Delilah the worry.
“That is what this is for.” She tapped her stick to the ground. “If you just point me in the right direction and walk with me…I can manage fine.”
Only a brief silence stretched between them this time. “All right,” Buck agreed. Reluctantly, but he agreed. “But only for a while and if we run into any issues, you go into the wagon with no arguments even if I have to pick you up and put you in there.”
Wanted: Fevered or Alive Page 6
