Wanted: Fevered or Alive

Home > Other > Wanted: Fevered or Alive > Page 14
Wanted: Fevered or Alive Page 14

by Long, Heather


  Relief that he was there coupled with fury and embarrassment. “I am so mad at you.”

  “I know.” He accepted her charge without argument. “You are, however, not alone in your anger. I am quite furious with you.” The cool delivery didn’t diminish the force of his statement.

  “You have no right to be furious with me.” She scowled and pushed back the blankets. Suddenly Jason was directly in front of her, cupping her face.

  “I have every right. You put yourself in danger. What were you thinking?” The contact halted her. He was cool and warm in the same instant. She wanted to burrow into the touch, but that would be a mistake. It was so easy to forget everything when he was near. Missing him had become a permanent ache in her bones.

  Careful and deliberate, she leaned away from his touch. It hurt to reject him. “I was thinking I did not want to be your obligation or your prisoner.”

  Goosebumps raced up her skin and she shivered, suddenly aware that she wore only the thinnest of cotton shifts. Swinging her legs off the bed, she reached for her robe only to have it pressed into her hand.

  “Stop it,” she ordered. “Stop trying to do things for me. I’m helpless, I understand your concerns. I am, however, not your burden.” The words stung, leaving welts on her soul even as she inflicted them. He’d never treated her this way before.

  Never.

  She could almost feel his withdrawal as he retreated a step, but no sooner did she stand than he was suddenly there. He snapped the robe out of her fingers and wrapped it around her. It trapped her arms to her sides and he hauled her close. “No, you are everything that is precious to me.” His breath whispered against her cheek. “No one is allowed to treat you badly, not even you. Dress. We need to talk, you and I, and I would take you somewhere else to do it.”

  Olivia stilled. “Are you going to talk to me this time? Or will it be another tell Olivia to behave and stay out of trouble discussion? Followed immediately by abandoning me to people who are keeping secrets. I’m not an idiot, Jason. I can hear that they aren’t saying things—”

  “Shh.” He brushed her cheek and the intimacy of the contact quieted the upset shivering in her soul. “We are going to talk. It has to be today.” He withdrew and she tracked the sound of his footsteps heading to the door.

  Why did he sound so inexorably sad?

  Jason, On the road to Old Dorado

  His heart might never recover from Cody’s warning about Colonel Stanley or the image he’d painted of Olivia marching to Dorado along a winding trail that would have left her at the river’s edge—a river too deep for crossing in many spots. “You tell her, or I will. You have until tomorrow,” the wolf had warned him. “This dog is done.” But it hadn’t been the threat that got to Jason, it had been the sentence that followed. “She’s a nice girl and we can protect her, but not with lies.”

  Between his brothers taking his side with their father and Jed’s confession about being aware of Olivia all along coupled with the threats riding straight at them, Jason found himself in a corner. Whatever he chose to do with Olivia would inform the rest of his life. She had a right to the truth he didn’t want to share with her because if he did, he courted losing her forever. If he didn’t tell her, losing her was assured.

  Arriving in the middle of the night to the ranch, he’d been unable resist going into his room to see her. His father moving her into that room had been telling in and of itself. The sight of her curled on her side in his bed left him speechless. He’d forced himself to sit in a chair and not disturb her, but his attention never wavered. As expected as her anger had been, it was her rejection that hurt the most.

  He waited outside the room as she dressed. Only those with morning chores were up and about, and his brothers had promised to let their wives know to keep their distance. Micah stepped in long enough to let him know he’d brought a horse up from the barn, and Miss Annabeth had packed food. Then his brother gave his shoulder a squeeze and wished him luck.

  Olivia refused his arm and made her way down the stairs without assistance. “Where are we going?” she asked when she achieved the last step.

  “For a ride,” he told her. Her refusal to touch him was merely a symptom of their disagreement. He had no one to blame for it, but himself. “You mentioned that you enjoyed riding with Jimmy, but not as much as you had with me.”

  A considering look eased the tight lines of her face and the barest glimmer of a smile softened her mouth. “I would like that, yes. Front door?”

  “The horse is already saddled and waiting for us.” But instead of reaching for her arm, he waited. If she wanted to do it alone, he had to respect her wishes no matter how much he disliked the distance. On the horse, she wouldn’t be able to pull away from him.

  Following her, he slipped around her long enough to get the door open. She paused and turned her face in his direction. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled, though she wouldn’t see it. The thaw in her manner eased the frozen tundra threatening to encase him. Outside, she crossed the porch to the steps and paused. “The horse is to your left. Will you allow me to help you mount?”

  “I think that would be wise. I’ve not quite mastered that particular skill yet.” The return of her familiar sass relaxed him further. Cupping her elbow, he walked with her down the steps and over to the horse. Shorty was a gentle gelding—among the gentlest Micah promised him. Jason could handle just about any horse on the ranch, all the Kane males could, their father wouldn’t allow for anything else. But he wouldn’t risk Olivia to any recklessness. No more than I already have.

  She handed him her walking stick and he slid it into a band on the saddle, securing it and checked the girth. “Ready?” he asked. At her nod, he put his hands on her waist and lifted. She was so light and fragile, it took almost no effort to hoist her onto the saddle. He waited until she’d placed her hand over the pommel before releasing her. “Good?”

  “Yes.” A flicker of excitement lit her face and arrested him.

  Swallowing the uncomfortable emotions slipping out from behind the vaulted door, he caught the reins and mounted behind her. She leaned against his chest and her hair tickled his chin, but he turned the horse away from the house and headed west. Around him, he sensed the weight of his brothers’ attention, along with their wives, and the other ranch inhabitants who peeked out to see him leave and then Olivia relaxed and those thoughts wiped away. Silence blanketed him, erasing even the nagging headache that seemed constantly present these days and wrapping him up in the bliss that was her presence.

  He’d never tested his ability against the peace she brought him, but he’d brought a gun—fully loaded—this time. They were leaving the ranch and heading into unoccupied land. Nudging Shorty into a comfortable lope, he kept his arms loose where they held her.

  “Can we talk?” The question broke the soft quiet shrouding them since they began the ride.

  “Of course,” he told her. “About anything.”

  “Anything?” Doubt clung to the single word and stabbed at him. She’d always shown him such utter faith and he’d shaken it.

  “Yes, Olivia. Anything.” No more holding back. She had a right to know. “I have a very long story to tell you and I’d like to reserve that for when we arrive.”

  Instead of peppering him with questions, she fell quiet. She’d closed her eyes, and a thoughtful expression knitted her brows together. When her silence began to worry him, she sighed. “I have so many questions, but I’m afraid to ask them.”

  Her reluctance cut him. She’d never been afraid to speak her mind to him. “Why?”

  “Promise to not laugh?” Shyness filtered through her request.

  “I promise.”

  “I was so determined to find you and yell at you, but I don’t want to be mad. I don’t want to say something that makes our friendship go away.” She swallowed. “I’ve missed you so much the last few years. I used to make up conversations in my head and imagine what
you would say as I told you everything. I feel like I’ve been telling you everything for years and when I came home and you made me go away—and no one would tell me anything... I think it hurt more than it should.”

  Her confession robbed him of speech. Shorty slowed his pace and Jason struggled against the bands tightening around his ribs.

  “Jason?”

  “I’m here,” he assured her and rubbed a hand along her arm. She returned the caress, only by rubbing her head against his chin. “I don’t want you to be angry with me either. I missed you and I often imagined telling you things as well.” So many things, and he’d locked them all away. “Every year, on the anniversary of the day we met, I’d remember that little girl who wanted me to make noise with scoopahs.”

  Her laughter rained down on him like a fine mist and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t laugh,” he admonished. “It was the best day of my life.”

  Her merriment evaporated in favor of a solemn, “Truly?”

  “Truly,” he admitted. “I’ve carried meeting you every day since.”

  “Jason, what happened to you?” She covered his hand on the reins, her fingers a feather light caress. “You’ve always been serious, but you’re so much sadder now.”

  “You’ve always seen me far more clearly than anyone else.” He sighed. “My sadness was believing you’d died, Olivia. When the fever came and swept through everyone and everything, I could do nothing about it. By the time I reached the town, everyone was gone. No survivors save for one little boy. But not you. The store. All of it was gone. I’d failed you.”

  She squeezed his hand. “You did not fail me. You can’t fight an illness…”

  “Yes, I can, particularly when it is manmade.” The time for keeping secrets had left him behind and it was a struggle to get ahead of the oncoming storm.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “When I was a child…” The beginning was the best place to start. “Kid and I both suffered from a fever. I barely remember getting sick, but what I can remember of it are merely images and feelings. Pa was worried, and I ached so badly I thought someone had set me on fire and then being cold, too cold to ever get warm again.” These memories drifted out, dusty with age.

  Olivia said nothing, but he could almost feel the unspoken questions vibrating on her tongue.

  “We were sick for several days, but I don’t remember the passage of time as much as I remember waking up one morning to being starving. Pa was relieved and so was Cobb. They’d never left either of us. Kid took a little longer than I did to wake up and be himself again, but other than being really hungry and tired, I seemed fine and everything went back to normal. Only it wasn’t normal. Not long after being sick, I started hearing things.”

  “What kind of things?” Olivia never let go of his hand and the feeling of her thumb stroking back and forth against his skin distracted him.

  “Things people said—intimate things, angry things, hateful things—words. Sentences. The trouble was, they weren’t saying them aloud and I didn’t understand it. I reacted to it, and they would stare at me. Sometimes yell, because my responses were out of line.” He knew he was explaining it badly.

  “Why would someone yell at you for answering them?”

  “Because they hadn’t actually said anything, not aloud.” He kept his gaze on the landscape as they rode. They were still on Flying K land and he’d stay within its borders as much as he was able, but the flattened area around them gave him a clear view. It would be difficult to sneak up on them.

  Difficult didn’t mean impossible.

  “If they didn’t say it aloud, how could you hear them?”

  Wrapping an arm around her middle, he braced them both. “Because I can hear what other people are actually thinking.”

  Her lack of response couldn’t be a good sign. Stealing a glance, he found her biting down on her lower lip. “I don’t understand.” She sounded bewildered.

  Of course she didn’t. “I can hear the thoughts of others. I can do much more now, but back then it was just their thoughts. The things they don’t say. The little things that travel through their minds, the things they might want to say or would never say, but have no trouble thinking. I heard it all.”

  Her back stiffened. “Can you hear mine?”

  “No, you are the most precious gift in the world. I can’t hear yours at all and you block out everything else for me. That first day I met you, I found true peace. The first peace I’d experienced since being ill.” He gave her a gentle squeeze, but she didn’t relax.

  “I don’t—I don’t understand. How can you hear other people’s thoughts and not hear mine? I’ve never heard of anything like that. It doesn’t seem real somehow.” Her attempt to believe, despite her struggle, strengthened him.

  “I didn’t think it was real either, at first. Over time, I began to wonder what was actually said and what only I could hear. Eventually, I decided if I didn’t see someone’s mouth move, I wouldn’t respond to it.”

  “That sounds so lonely,” she whispered and Jason smiled.

  “It was uncomfortable.” He could admit that much. “You helped, though.”

  “Is that why you became my friend?” Her voice quavered. “Because you couldn’t hear me?”

  “No,” he promised her. “I came back to visit you that next time to see if what had happened the first time happened again. I became your friend, because of you. What you could do gave me surcease, but who you were made me happy.”

  She relaxed a little at the admission. “You made me happy, too.”

  Closing his eyes, Jason let loose with the first silent prayer he’d considered in years. A prayer of gratitude. She hadn’t run from him, or called him insane. Instead, she’d joyfully offered him another slice of happiness, as she had every moment he’d spent with her in their childhood.

  “There’s more, isn’t there?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, too relieved to disguise the truth.

  “Tell me everything,” she ordered. “Help me to understand.”

  He’d wanted to wait until they arrived at their destination, but he could deny her nothing. “There are people in the world called Fevered—”

  “I knew it was a real thing,” she crowed, and he laughed at the triumph in her voice.

  “Fevered are those who survive something called Spirit Fever. Although there are other names for it, it’s what most of us have learned to call it.” Well, what the Morning Stars did, but it sufficed for their discussion.

  “That is what you and Kid had?” she checked.

  “Yes.” He continued, telling her about growing up and learning from the shelter she gave him how to shield out others. When it came to the Morning Stars, she listened to every word and then pinched him hard when he admitted that Cody was indeed the dog or rather wolf. When she fell absolutely silent at that revelation, he worried. “Olivia?”

  “You said Cody and the wolf were the same, right?” An indefinable emotion shook in her voice and for the first time he wished he were Kid, so he could understand what it was.

  “Yes.”

  “So, when he was out there with the colonel yesterday…”

  The fist of worry in his gut tightened at her saying the colonel, but he forced himself to listen.

  “…he had to change back to a man, but he had no shirt on…” Her face turned a deep shade of rose and Jason put the pieces together. “Was—was he naked after?”

  If the wolf hadn’t been utterly devoted to his mate, it would have bothered Jason more. Still, Olivia looked horrified, so he tried to soften it. “He probably had clothes stashed nearby. He changes frequently.”

  “You don’t really think that.” She called him on his bluff.

  “No, I don’t,” Jason admitted.

  “I may never pet another dog again,” she declared.

  And he couldn’t help it, he laughed.

  Chapter 8

  Olivia, Wonderland

  He
r head spun from the tales Jason weaved for her. It was too fantastical to be a fabrication and each time she pinched herself, she felt pain. She had to ask, “How is it that no one knows this?”

  Certainly she would have heard of such abilities before. Blind didn’t mean secluded. Life in Boston had been far livelier than Dorado, and no one there had mentioned such things.

  “We—most of those that I know with these abilities—keep them secret. It’s safer for everyone if we do.” He edited whatever he’d intended to say. She could hear it. “Imagine how others feel when they learn what we can do?”

  “That they cannot keep a secret from you?” Because that was the truth for him, wasn’t it? So much of the world was hidden from her, what would it be like to have everything open to her inspection?

  The muscles in his arms flexed against her. “You can.” A mild sort of delight infused those two words.

  “It doesn’t bother you?”

  Instead of answering, he turned the question back on her. “Does it bother you?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered as honestly as she could. “I didn’t know you could do that, so I don’t know what it would be like if you could.” She considered her next words, relaxing as if it were the most natural thing in the world to ride pressed intimately against his body. Feminine awareness swept over her and her face heated.

  “Well, I can tell you I’d like to know what just went through your mind just now.” His comment made her cheeks scorch further. “You were frowning then you blushed.”

  “Don’t tease,” she admonished him, but a tiny part of her actually enjoyed the lightness in his voice. He was always so sober and serious.

  “I like teasing you.” And his voice deepened.

  “I like it when you tease, too,” she admitted. “It makes you happier.”

  His arms tightened and he touched his lips to the back of her head again. Shivers raced over her at the casual contact. This was right, if anything in the madcap world she’d discovered in the last few hours could be called right, being with him was it. “You make me happy, Olivia.”

 

‹ Prev