Bewitching Bret

by Cheri Chaise

  “What’s he have?”

  There was no beating around the bush with my brother. “Scarlet fever.”

  “Shit.” He finally removed his hat to grimly slide his fingers through his hair. “Do you think it came from the reservation?”

  “I saw no signs of it there,” I said, before having to admit the truth. “But I may’ve overlooked someone.”

  “Something like this could wipe them out.”

  I gritted my teeth in utter frustration and agony. “I’m aware.”

  “You want me to have a couple of hands ride out to check?”

  Desperation urged me to do so. To do whatever I could to save Little Red Fox. Running Wind. Their son was most susceptible of all right now.

  But if the tribe hadn’t been exposed, they very well could be if one of our hands was currently carrying the disease without yet showing symptoms.

  “No,” I finally decided, though it pained me. “We need to take care of everyone here first.”

  Cole nodded in agreement. “Okay then, what do you need me to do?”

  My poor brother. Always used to being the one in charge. But there wasn’t much he could do in this situation – except protect the rest of our loved ones. And that was something he knew how to do quite well.

  “Edna’s in here with me, but I don’t want any of the other women or children setting one foot on this floor from here on out, got it?”

  His brow raised at the idea of Edna helping me out, but he made no comment on that difficult subject. “I’ll keep everyone below.”

  “Grab mattresses from the beds up here and take them downstairs if you have to. Then you or Evan only will bring up any meals and supplies.”

  “What about Drew?”

  Terror threatened to engulf me as I realized the full extent of the infection possibilities. “He and Seth were playing cards with Sean.”

  Those old fears of pain and death revisited Cole’s face. Except instead of a pack of wolves this time, we were facing an unseen enemy.

  But I anticipated him and cut to the heart of the matter before he had a chance to respond. “Keep Drew and Seth separated from everyone else for now but keep a close eye on them. Have them scrub the hands, arms and faces with vinegar and water. And burn that fucking card deck.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Got it.”

  “And you will immediately sterilize any utensils coming out of this room and wash your hands in carbolic acid.”

  “Car…what? Acid?”

  “Just tell Essie to show you,” I returned, grateful that our egg and horse thief hadn’t broken all of my medicine bottles. “Matter-of-fact, have everyone clean their hands with it as soon as the scrubbing is finished down below…including the bunkhouse hands. I’d have them use it to clean every surface if I had enough.”

  “I’ll head out right now and get you more in town, brother.”

  “No one’s leaving this ranch for any reason until we make sure this is contained. We don’t need to start an outbreak.”

  “Aw hell,” Cole muttered under his breath. “Guess this means Edna will be a little late getting home.”

  “They’ve survived without me this long,” Edna called from somewhere behind me.

  “Keep an eye on everybody,” I emphasized. “If anyone so much as sniffs, sneezes, or coughs, I need to know about it. Let me know if anyone starts developing splotchy red skin on the face or neck.”

  “I’ll come right to you, Bret.”

  My brother turned to go before I appealed to him one last time. “And Cole?”

  “Yeah,” he said, peering over the stairwell railing.

  “Tell Meg…and the boys I’ll see them soon.” I hesitated as I tried to formulate the right words, still concerned over protecting my Essie from any disapproval for our lifestyle. “And take good care of…them.”

  Green eyes softened in understanding of exactly who all I meant. He nodded once. “Will do.”

  Then he was gone, leaving me with the one person I never thought I’d be locked up with – in a sickroom or anywhere else.

  And I’d never wanted my wife beside me more than when peering into the hard and wary gaze of Edna Barker.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Estella

  I had never cleaned so much in one sitting in the five years since I’d arrived at Carston Ranch.

  We worked all through the night, and into the afternoon until every surface in the house was scraped and scrubbed, washed and wiped until it gleamed like the noonday sun. By the time we finally finished, it wasn’t only my hands that were red and raw.

  Abby’s fingers were cracked and bleeding. She hissed as I poured a bit of carbolic acid over her hands but never complained as I daubed on Bret’s healing salve then wrapped them in cloth strips.

  Cole insisted that Abby share our bed with me, choosing instead to take shifts with Evan upstairs sleeping at the top of the stairs on a miserable bedroll.

  Where I so desperately wanted to be.

  I worried every time I heard a wracking cough from upstairs. Fretted on each occasion one of my men tromped up the stairwell, carrying food to set outside the room for Bret and Edna as they oversaw their patient or bringing down empty plates to sterilize in my constantly boiling water on the stove.

  Each morning when I awoke with my children curled around or between me and my sister, I checked necks and bellies for any of the telltale red bumps and breathed a sigh of relief to find none before crawling from bed to start breakfast.

  When Abby joined me, I hadn’t realized how accustomed I’d grown of late to having Edna beside me in the kitchen, rolling out biscuit dough, stirring up a hearty hash, or cleaning up the grease from the popping and spitting bacon.

  Until she wasn’t there – and set upon my worries all anew.

  How were Bret and Edna holding up after being thrown together these last few days in the sickroom? Were they getting enough rest? Was I sending up enough food for each meal? Providing enough coffee to keep them going through the long days and nights?

  Cole and Evan had very little information for us when they’d come downstairs, except to say that Sean was still alive – which was the only thing that kept Seth going.

  While his twin fought for his life upstairs, Seth just existed. He barely slept, mostly pushed his food around on his plate at the mealtimes he and Drew shared across the room where they spent the evenings playing card games with a newer deck.

  Mostly the two cousins occupied themselves outside, feeding the still wary dog when they strayed from the barn or stables over the course of the long days and sleepless nights of waiting.

  Waiting.

  Always waiting.

  And watching.

  I spent an inordinate amount of time by the living room window, watching and waiting for a glimpse of Drew. Hoping to see his grin. Wishing I could wrap my arms around him and kiss it right off of his face.

  But as much as I ached to have him again, being separated from their uncle was hardest on the children. They were so used to bouncing on his knee and listening to the wild stories he wove of an evening. My little ones were just too young to understand the risk of the deadly disease.

  By the fourth morning, Cole came dragging into the kitchen shortly after breakfast, depositing the used utensils into the boiling water and dunking the plates and cups in the pan of hot, soapy water I had waiting in the sink. I moved in closer to take over the washing duty from my husband.

  But he stood firm. “I’ll do it.”

  “I can do the dishes for you.”

  “I said I’d do it,” he barked. Then he released the air from his lungs on a sigh. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

  I’d long ago grown used to Cole’s short fuse. It usually only came out these days when he was tired – or worried.

  “Is Sean…?” I asked anxiously.

  “Still breathing.”

  I relaxed just a bit. “How are Bret and Edna?”

  “Tired, but hold
ing up.”

  Which he was – barely. I stared up into his green eyes, taking in the dark circles and lines etched more deeply into his face. “You’re not getting enough sleep.”

  He turned away and dunked his hands into the hot vinegar water and started scrubbing away. “How can I with all that coughing going on in the next room?”

  “Bret always says we’re more susceptible to illness when we allow ourselves to get overtired.” I cupped his cheek and pulled Cole’s gaze back to mine. “I want you to go in our room and get some rest right now.”

  “I won’t risk sullying that bedroom.” He stopped washing and placed a wet hand against the slight roundness of my belly. “Not when you’re carrying my br…my baby.”

  Damn, damn, damn it all to hell. I didn’t care one iota about keeping secrets anymore. Not from my sister. Not even from Edna. If Bret ever came down safe and sound from that sickroom, I’d kiss him full on the mouth and straddle his manhood in front of anyone in the room.

  Instead I ripped open Cole’s flannel shirt in front of my sister, hearing the gasp accompany the plinking and plopping of scattering buttons, and inspected my husband’s chest.

  His hard, sinewy – and thankfully clear – chest. “I see no flushing or rash, Cole Carston. I’ll scrub down the room from top to bottom once again and change out the linens if I have to, but you will march your ass into our bedroom this minute and get some sleep.”

  “Estella!”

  I didn’t even care at the offense my sister’s outburst revealed at my use of such language. I was no longer a society lady, bound by mores and manners. I was a woman of the western frontier now.

  A woman who would do anything to protect her family. And I wasn’t about to accept no for an answer.

  Cole’s tired chuckle rumbled deep in his chest before he leaned forward to kiss the top of my head. “Yes ma’am,” he replied before pulling away in all seriousness. “If you’ll do me a favor.”

  “Anything you ask, husband.”

  A wicked gleam accompanied the upward tilt of his full and beckoning lips before he tamped both down. I was certain we were both thinking of warm, naked bodies wrapped together in the bliss of lovemaking. After all, what better way to drift beneath the clouds of sleep than to come down after blissful release?

  “It’s warmer outside this morning. Pack a picnic lunch, then you and Abby take the children out for the rest of the day.”

  “But I have things I need to do around here. Meals to prepare.”

  He held my upper arms in his firm but gentle grip. “We’ll take care of it.”

  “But what if Bret…”

  “We’ll take care of that too.” He snatched up a leftover biscuit from the tin. “And take Seth and Drew along with you.”

  “But I thought…”

  “Bret said that if they haven’t shown signs by now, they’re probably in the clear.”

  I nearly wept with joy. “That’s the most wonderful news I’ve heard in days.”

  Cole nodded with a tired smile. “Seth needs something to do to get his mind off his brother…and to stop losing so much money playing poker with my little brother.”

  I relented with a titter – but only because I understood the good it would do for Seth to get away from the house for a spell. “Very well. We’ll leave within the hour.”

  “And if that cousin of mine balks, tell him you need more than one strapping man to help look after you and the kids.”

  “Oh, I’m certain it won’t be too hard to persuade him to come along.” Especially after the way in which he’d been looking at Abby of late.

  “Besides I’ll sleep much better knowing the kids are away from this house and out in the fresh air.” Meghan came running through the kitchen right about then, the twins hot on her heels as they chased her in and out of our legs before disappearing around the corner again. “And I’ll definitely sleep better without all the noise,” he yelled after them.

  “They’re just feeling a bit pent up.”

  He kissed my forehead this time before releasing me. “Exactly my point.”

  I untied the apron and pulled it over my head before cocking a brow. “Do you promise you’ll get some sleep in our room this time?”

  He offered me a heated look of understanding as he pulled his hanging shirt the rest of the way off. “Headin’ there right now.”

  Abby blushed to see the broad and muscular bare back of my husband as he left the room before her attention darted again to the pan of boiling water. She dipped the tongs into the water, digging out each piece of sterilized silverware before dropping it into the dish of water and vinegar.

  I could only imagine the blush that would flame her face when she heard the even more salacious tidbit we had left to share. Something that would make my scandalous tryst to rid myself of that engagement to Alan all those years ago seem trivial by comparison. That would make seeing my husband’s bare torso seem all too commonplace.

  We bustled about, finishing up in the kitchen and preparing what to take along with us. I hadn’t really believed Cole would actually head straight to our bedroom when I shooed him from the kitchen. His ploy of sending us on a picnic I thought merely a ruse to get us out of the house and away from all this sickness.

  But after packing the basket with cold ham, hard-boiled eggs, and juicy ripe apples, the sonorous snores coming from behind our bedroom door said he’d followed my instructions to the letter.

  I breathed easier. It appeared we were going to weather this storm, which allowed me to enjoy a brief glimmer of contentment for the first time in weeks.

  Before complete chaos visited the homestead.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Bret

  Days and nights blended together in the cramped bedroom.

  I awoke from a brief rest to hear the soft humming of my bedfellow, the notes rising and falling with an intermingling of words I couldn’t comprehend.

  Then I opened my eyes to see the older lady sitting on the edge of the sickbed, gently bathing our patient’s chest in cool water as her singing continued.

  My voice was scratchy as I sat up from the bedroll. “I’ve never heard that song before. What is it?”

  Edna didn’t look at me, but continued bathing Sean in cool comfort. “Aye, ‘tis a song of the old country.” She glanced over her shoulder then with an unexpected wink. “A bawdy little tune of love between a barmaid and a sailor.”

  “Oh.” I stretched the kink out of my neck. “I didn’t pick that up because I couldn’t understand the words.”

  “That’s ‘cause it’s in Gaelic.”

  I stood over the bed and conducted an examination of the patient. “His fever is down. Appears to have broken.” My fingers pressed along his neck. “Swelling of the glands is better also.”

  “Aye, that’s what I thought too.” She held up the lantern without my having to ask this time. As if we’d finally found a rhythm these last few days.

  Though the fever reduction might have something to do with the cool water she bathed him in, the lowered swelling was the first positive sign I’d seen in all the days we’d been stuck together. I’d given up trying to keep track.

  “How’s the coughing been while I was down?” The flaming redness in Sean’s throat had dulled to a deep pink, but he still had white pustules along his tongue.

  “Much better. He seems t’ be resting more comfortably these last hours also.”

  She stopped bathing him as I moved my examination to his chest and the folds in his arms and armpits. I avoided the lower extremities, though I doubted at this point that Edna would be embarrassed by the sight of a naked man.

  “The rash has lessened as well.” I grinned with a satisfied sigh as I realized my cousin was finally on the other side of this illness. “I think he’s going to make it.”

  Edna’s smile joined mine, tired and worn though it may be. For the first time since we’d been shut up here together, I realized we’d finally made inroads and overcom
e her distrust of me and my heritage.

  I raised the window sill to let in some fresh air to combat the stale odor of illness before I settled into the chair on the opposite side of the bed. The chill seeping from the window had grown as the weather outside signaled the approaching winter. But the sunlight filtering through the panes today warmed me almost as much as the realization of the connection I’d fostered with the old cook.

  “May I ask you a question?” I ventured.

  She set aside the bowl and tucked the quilt up under Sean’s chin. “Yer wantin’to know why I was so hostile toward you, eh?”

  “That’d be a right good place to start,” I concurred, crossing my arms. Even with the inroads we’d made, I still felt a hint of tension as we approached the line drawn during the truce.

  Edna paused, staring down into the basin of water. She wrung out the cloth in a sprinkle like raindrops. Folded it. Then sighed as she leaned against the bedside table and watched the water as if waiting for a sign to bubble up from within.

  “I was still a young woman when my husband went off t’ war.” She raised her head with a smile, but I doubted it was the rough-hewn log walls she saw as she set her gaze far away. “Oh, but a handsome man he was, all dashin’ in his uniform.”

  It was as if she relived each moment of her past as the words flowed. “Blue eyes like the sky.”

  Like Essie.

  “A ready smile he passed on to our daughter.”

  Like Drew.

  She glanced at me then. “Did you know Miss Estella named her daughter after my Meggie?”

  My heart caught in my throat, but I schooled my expression as always. Essie never told me how she’d chosen our daughter’s name or where it’d come from. Now I’d always have a connection to this woman – even if Edna never knew about it.

  “I wasn’t aware,” I admitted.

  “Aye.” Edna nodded. “The Davies girls became like me own. Played together and everything. They’s not many who’d hire on a cook with a child to distract from her duties, you know.”

  She sat again on the bed and fussed with the quilt, though I imagine it was just a distraction. “The Davies were mighty good t’ me…after my husband died. Suppose that’s why I stayed with ‘em long as I did…even after what Mr. Davies done to Miss Estella.”