Wanted: Fevered or Alive

by Long, Heather

  “Olivia…had they gone on such a journey, I would have expected them home by now. It’s been months, since the fever struck. I’m so sorry…they were named among the casualties.”

  Her heart sank. “I wish I’d been here…” If she’d been here, they would have taken more care. She had no doubt her father’s protectiveness would have kicked in at the first sign of illness. He would have sent her and her mother away, but he might not have gone with them. The vise on her soul tightened.

  “No.” Scarlett’s voice took on a fervent, forceful tone. “You don’t. It was a horrible time and chances are you would have sickened, too.”

  And died. Scarlett didn’t add that part. She didn’t have to. Grasping the other woman’s hand, she held on tightly. “Who took care of my parents? Is there—is there a chance I could speak to them? I—” She wanted, what? To find out their last words? What good would that do? Jason told her there were no graves, but they deserved something. Papa and Mama had always done the best they could for her.

  “I’m sorry.” The genuine sorrow in Scarlett’s voice arrested Olivia’s manic thoughts. “I don’t think so. By the time we realized how badly it had spread, a lot of the town had already passed away.”

  Swiping away the tears dripping down her cheeks, Olivia paused. Had no one tended them? “So they were alone?”

  “I don’t know…honestly I don’t.” Scarlett sighed. “It was an insane time and so many were ill. I was here—I can ask…”

  “Yes, please.” What else could she do? Why hadn’t Mr. Kane looked after her parents better? Hadn’t he promised her and her parents that on the same day her father agreed with Mr. Kane that Olivia should attend school back East? He’d told her the same thing on the ride to San Antonio and when he’d handed her off. You concentrate on your learning, Olivia. I’ll look after your Ma and Pa. Don’t you worry.

  She’d believed him.

  “Olivia?”

  The other woman’s voice startled her. She’d half-forgotten Scarlett was there. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

  “You’re welcome, I wish the truth hadn’t been so ugly. It’s—I never knew my mother.” The confession, once begun, it seemed led to another. “My parents both perished from the fever when I was a baby. My father—he adopted me when I was barely a year old and he raised me. I’ve never known the loss that you are feeling now, but I know how I would feel if it were Molly learning of my death. I would be grateful that she hadn’t suffered with me and I would be doubly grateful that she had been spared.”

  The words and the sentiment helped. Maybe she couldn’t have changed anything had she been there—if Jason or his father had been in town, maybe the fever would have taken them. “Thank you. That sounds like Mama and Papa, too. They didn’t want me to go away to school, not at first. I remember hearing them argue about it. It’s not that they didn’t want me to learn…” She didn’t want Scarlett to think ill of her parents. “They didn’t want to send me so far away.”

  “I wish we’d known you were there. We could have written, perhaps spared you some of the shock.”

  “Mr. Kane knew.” He hadn’t written. Or, to be fair, maybe he had and the message had been lost along the way. Mail service wasn’t always certain.

  “He didn’t tell any of us.” Scarlett gave her hand a squeeze. “Or more accurately, we didn’t know to ask. How long have you been away?”

  “About three and a half, I suppose almost four, years now. Yes, almost four years. Mr. Kane knew because he paid my tuition and made several of the arrangements. He also hired a man to see me north on a train and from there to go back east.” Had she known she would have been leaving before Jason returned from his own schooling, she might have objected more strenuously. A part of her had hoped to spend time with him away from the watchful supervision of her family.

  “Olivia, you and Jason—how long have you known each other?”

  She could answer that question, but the wonder in Scarlett’s tone suggested Jason had never mentioned her. Had he kept their friendship a secret? Or perhaps it was that he confided in his brothers and not his brothers’ wives? That made a reasonable amount of sense.

  “I’ve known him for as long as I could remember. I’ve met most of the Kanes at one point or another, except for Kid.” Jason had asked her once to keep her distance from his younger brother, though he’d never explained why. He’d asked for promises from her so rarely that when he’d made the request, she’d honored it. Not that she spent much time around any of his family, save for Jason himself. Even when she’d been old enough to spend time in the store helping her father as much as she’d been able, only the marshal had been a regular visitor. Trusting an instinct, she dared an inappropriate question of her own. “You don’t like Jason very much?”

  “No, I don’t know Jason very well. Micah and Kid, yes. Jason? Not as much. He’s been away more than home and—” She broke off.

  “And?” Olivia pressed. Something more had been running as undercurrent to every discussion. They were all so shocked by her friendship with him or maybe it was her survival. She didn’t know any of them well enough to read their tones, but Jason’s fierce protectiveness and the dismissal when he’d spoken to the women earlier said volumes. He didn’t like to answer to other people, though he’d never objected to answering her questions.

  In the past.

  “It’s not my place.” The opportunity to explore the issue ended abruptly as a heavy footstep in the hallway told Olivia someone was coming just before the knock on the door signaled their arrival. She released Scarlett and felt the air brush her as the other woman rose.

  “Olivia?” Jed Kane’s rumbling tone was a deep comfort, and familiar.

  Trembling seized her muscles. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been floundering amongst all the strangers, particularly without Jason. “Come in.”

  The door opened further and Olivia tried to stand, though she worried her legs wouldn’t hold her. She didn’t have to try and walk across the room because Jed Kane found her and then he pulled her in for a good hug. To her horror, she started to cry all over again. Scarlett murmured a quiet ‘excuse me,’ and slipped away. Olivia barely noticed it and clung to the older man. “Please tell me it isn’t true…” Jed Kane was bigger than life, she didn’t need to see to know it from his gravelly voice or his booming tone. When he spoke, people listened. If anyone could make it all right, it was he.

  “I’m sorry, Olivia.” When he didn’t, she cried all the harder.

  If her tears bothered him, he didn’t say a word. He petted her hair and made soothing noises.

  She let him urge her back to a chair and press a handkerchief into her hand. While she dabbed her eyes, she listened as Miss Annabeth arrived with a tray of tea. Other footsteps passed her room, but none came in. When the older woman told her she should eat, she found the energy to give her a smile. “You fed me once already, Miss Annabeth. I’m truly not hungry at the moment.”

  “Hmm,” signaled the older woman’s disapproval. “I’ll be serving supper in a couple of hours. You will eat then.”

  Acquiescing to the command in her words, Olivia bowed her head. Jed prepared a cup for her, pressed the delicate china into her hands but it wasn’t until after Miss Annabeth left that he cleared his throat. “I owe you a deep apology, Olivia.”

  “No, Mr. Kane. You truly don’t. The fever wasn’t your fault.” She wanted to be angry, to hate someone, but who could she hate?

  “I know that, child, but someone should have taken charge to make sure you knew and to send someone for you when you were ready to come home.” Shame and weariness marred his voice. “It has been a troubling few months and in the distraction—I have no excuse for it. I failed to send you word.”

  “I forgive you.” Mama had always said that others needed to hear the words. Her heart ached at the reminder. Jason had tried to tell her everything in town and she’d heard some of it. Enough to know the ranch hadn’t remained unscath
ed. “Mr. Kane, I can’t imagine the turmoil and the upset your whole family has been through…”

  “Now you’re comforting me.” He sighed with affection and amusement. “Just like when you were little.”

  Her face warmed and, needing to change the subject, she drew back. “I am home now and I want to help. I’ve learned a lot of skills at the school. I can manage a store, I can write—maybe find some tasks I am best suited. I’ll need a place in town. I’m sure there will be apartments, maybe even the one above the store. I know what it takes to run one of those…”

  “Olivia, you have a home. You’re in it.” If Jason had been immovable in his desire to get her to the ranch, his father proved even less tractable on the subject. “We’ll certainly find you something to do, but you will not worry about any of it. Not right now. You need time to acclimate to home and to grieve…that is all you should be worrying about right now.”

  If not for the affection in the hard rumble of his voice, she might have argued. As it was, she let it pass. She was exhausted. “May I ask for a favor, then?”

  “Anything, child. What do you need?”

  “I want to get out and go for a walk—alone. Is there anywhere around here I can? I just want to be outside.” She couldn’t explain it. In this room, which she suspected was Jason’s and she’d only been given it because he wouldn’t be in residence—and after everything she’d learned. She wanted some time to herself. Time to think.

  “I don’t know that I can let you be totally alone, but how about I take you to a place and then go sit a spell a ways away from you? Would that do?” It sounded so reasonable. Of course he couldn’t leave her totally alone. She didn’t know the landscape.

  Truth was she preferred buildings to wide open spaces—at least buildings had boundaries and narrow pathways she could memorize. “That would be wonderful, thank you.” She finished her tea and let him take the cup from her hands.

  “Do you have a hat or a bonnet?”

  “Is the sun terribly bad this time of day?” It hadn’t felt that warm as she’d ridden in with Jimmy and, if she could, she would have pulled all the pins from her hair and let it hang loose. However, ladies past a certain age didn’t do that—or at least so she’d been taught. The bonnet was another constriction and one she would rather do without.

  “No, but you’re a fair girl. I wouldn’t want anything to hurt your skin.” He rose as she did and cupped her elbow. He was a lot like Jason in the way he took charge.

  “I’ll be fine, and if I am at all uncomfortable—well, it’s not like I’ll notice any spots.” Her attempt at humor must have sounded as flat to him as it did to her, because he didn’t laugh.

  “Wait,” she told him as he began to guide her from the room. “I need my walking stick.” She retraced the three steps back to her seat with no effort and reclaimed the long stick that had become her key to freedom. She’d never had anything like it before the Perkins School, but it allowed her a range to her wandering like nothing else.

  A few minutes later, Mr. Kane retreated a fair enough distance that she couldn’t hear him at all. He’d taken her to a shaded area, promising the trees would keep the sun from spoiling her skin. She could hear running water nearby. When she’d asked about it, he’d walked her to the edge of the stream fed pool so she could determine the difference in the ground closest to the water. Keeping all of that information in mind, she began a slow pace of the area. Her mind was in turmoil and she thought better on her feet.

  Knowing Mr. Kane had to be close enough to see her or intervene if he thought she was in trouble, she struggled to keep her face placid. Unfortunately, her brow tightened no matter how hard she tried to resist the urge.

  Their kindness was far from unexpected. Of course they would look after her. It was who the Kanes were. But she didn’t want to be a charity case to anyone, especially not to Jason. Then there were all the people. Strangers, really, and this was their home. She’d spent too much of her childhood isolated above the general store—a place she would never be again. Never hear her parents chatter over a meal or listen to the murmur of her papa’s voice through the floorboards. Never feel her mother’s touch on her cheek…

  One of her instructors suggested it as an explanation for her struggles her first year at the school. The density of the population in Boston, coupled with the strange environment and the fact that for the first time in her life she’d had to share a room with another girl—she wasn’t used to so many people.

  She accepted that others would ‘stare’ at her and ‘see’ her in a way she could never return. It didn’t make her more comfortable with the attention. What am I going to do?

  In all the possibilities she’d considered for her future, her current predicament hadn’t been contemplated. How could she have? Yes, her parents would have died. Someday.

  Some far flung day in the future. Long after she’d married and had grandchildren for them to spoil. Her stomach rebelled and she shoved a hand against her mouth in an attempt to keep what food she’d managed to eat down. Grief-laden exhaustion crowded her, but she lifted her head and pushed her shoulders down. Appearances were important to the sighted. A downcast head revealed emotions, as did slumped shoulders and heaven help them if they had to crawl or get down lower on the ground to locate a lost item.

  The breeze carried the scents of grass, water, and horses. It wasn’t home. Home was a bustling town, a constant hum of wagons, bootsteps, catcalls from Madame Pontfour’s, ribald laughter in the afterhours, and music from the saloon. Home was dusty, and perfumed, and raw, and civilized. It had wooden buildings, and a livery stable where the sawdust mingled with the musky odor of horses and the thicker, sour stench of hardworking men before they went to the bathhouse.

  She’d dreamed of home every night since she’d left—dreamed of the day she would come back—and now? She never would. Walking down to the edge of the water, she located the pool and found a smooth patch to sit down. The sun touched her hands. She tilted her head back to try and catch the warmth on her face.

  She could only rely on the Kane’s generosity so far. Anything more would be unseemly—particularly since she had a vested interest in Jason even if he did not share her sentiment. That she’d nursed her childish affection for so long handicapped her. “I can do this,” she told herself. The only thing familiar left to her was the school. “Perhaps back in Boston.”

  Though the idea of putting herself through such another long journey made her ill, but perhaps she could build a life back at the Perkins School...where the very scents didn’t make her ache for home and family she’d never find again.

  “What’s back in Boston?” Jason’s icy voice sliced right through her melancholy and she jumped, soaking the edges of her skirt in the water.

  “I didn’t hear you.” She’d heard nothing, even more unsettling than the alien note in his voice.

  “It’s grassy and I don’t have a heavy step.” Nothing kind lived in his tone. “What is back in Boston?”

  She scrambled to stand, but managed to step on her wet hem and nearly ended up on her face. Jason caught her arm and lifted her off the ground and set her on her feet. Humiliation stung, but she struggled to get past it. “The school.”

  “You have to go back?” Each sentence seemed to carry the weight of a whip, crackling at the edges with some meaning she didn’t understand.

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t intended to.” Confusion made her tone sharper. “I have no idea what to do. If I cannot make a life here, perhaps I can return to the school and teach. Several of my teachers—Belinda, Amelia, Adam—”

  “Adam?” Jason’s fingers dug into her arm. “Adam who?”

  “What’s wrong with you?” She tried to disengage his grip, but he didn’t release her.

  “Adam who?” He repeated the question in a soft, edgy, dangerous tone that had all the hair on her body standing up.

  “Stop it, Jason. You’re scaring me.” He listened to her this time and let her g
o, soothing some of her unease. His breathing came in harsh, shallow pants. “What’s wrong? What happened to upset you?”

  “Olivia please tell me who Adam is.” He gentled his tone, but it didn’t dull the threat beneath the words.

  “Adam was one of my instructors—Adam Wendell. He was a student at the school, one of the first. He never left it. He taught me to use the walking stick.” She didn’t understand why mentioning him upset Jason.

  “You’re sure that was his name? What did he—? Dammit, you have no idea what he looked like.” The last was clearly not meant for her.

  “Actually, I do—well, as much as I can. I studied the shape of his face, mostly. He had a broad forehead, with shaggy hair. He said it was because he didn’t like getting haircuts from strangers—sharp objects and people he didn’t know near his face.” She knew she was babbling, but whatever it was about Adam that had upset Jason, she wanted to erase his concern. “Adam had wide eyes, a little further apart than Amelia’s or even mine. His nose was straight, um…” She ran her finger down her nose. “Longer than mine, but not big. A strong jaw, thicker too, and he had some kind of scar in his cheek from a bad shave he used to joke about, though one of the other students thinks he got it in a fight.” Thinking back, she tried to remember exactly where the scar had been. “His right cheek had the scar. His ears were large, and his mouth was…” She’d only touched his mouth a couple of times, and it hadn’t made that much of an impression.

  “His mouth was what?” Jason’s frosty tone heated.

  “I don’t remember, exactly. Wide, maybe? I only traced it once or twice. It didn’t really stand out in the collection of his features.

  “Why were you touching his mouth?” Jason closed the distance between them and she could almost feel the tingle of his nearness, but he didn’t touch her again.

  Angling her head toward his voice, she frowned. “Because I was learning.”

  “What exactly was he teaching you?”