Raising Kane

by Long, Heather

  They hadn’t. “We put down any of the herd that had come into contact with them.” A brutal, miserable three days of execution—two hundred sacrificed for the thousands of others. It worked, but it hadn’t been pleasant.

  Instead of riding, Jimmy lingered and Micah could feel the weight of his stare.

  “What?”

  “You think maybe Jo can help?”

  Glancing up at him, he didn’t smile. His wife’s nascent ability had already crossed his mind. The fever that nearly killed her left her capable of hearing the animals, truly communicating with them. But what would it do to her to talk to them if Micah had to put them down?

  “One step at a time.” It wasn’t a request and Jimmy nodded.

  “Your call.” He understood.

  Leaving Jimmy to ride, Micah told his mare to stay and started the hike down the hill, tugging a bandana up to over his face at the same time. Please let it be an isolated issue...

  It was gruesome work, checking each of the felled beasts, but Micah didn’t stop until he’d examined every one. None showed signs of scavenging—which was good. But they also didn’t show any signs of what killed them—no illness, no injury, nothing. It was like they fell over and died.

  Jimmy found the rest of the herd over the hill, grazing peacefully on winter grass. After the harsh and unpredictable weather this winter, that any grass could be found was a minor miracle. But even the brutal cold and snow—wrought by the wild new gift of one of their younger Fevered—hadn’t damaged the fields too badly.

  Small gratitudes.

  By the time he climbed back up to join Jimmy, he was exhausted, filthy and deeply concerned. He stripped off his gloves and bandana and stuffed them in the saddlebag. They’d need to be cleaned or burned. The rest of his clothes, too. Jimmy tossed him a waterskin and waited while Micah took a long drink.

  “Well?”

  “I don’t know what it is. Build the smoke signal. I want my pa to take a look at this too.” Because if Jed Kane didn’t know what it was, they were in trouble.

  Sage, Flying K Ranch

  “Dammit, Sage.” Shane’s masculine growl raked across her ears. He whirled around, a broken axe handle in hand, and glared into the copse of trees she’d snuck into while he cut firewood. “I know you’re there.”

  He didn’t, really, but the scowl on his face and the pure iron in his tone told her she better come clean or get as far away as possible. Only two years older than she, Shane always had a temper. Their new ‘parents’ might think it was due to the illness they’d all had the misfortune to survive, but Sage knew better.

  She knew Shane’s daddy used to beat him regular. It left a mean, unsettled streak in him. A streak the fever brought out. Like now, when he was cutting wood and shattered the axe between one swing and the next. The metal bits were several pieces around a splintered log.

  “I’m sorry.” The words tasted like ash on her tongue, but she followed them out of the shadow of the trees and kept her distance.

  “You’re not supposed to be down here.” Shane’s scowl eased, but didn’t go completely away. He blew out a hard breath and bent over to start picking up the pieces.

  “I know.” And she did know. Her ability aggravated everyone else’s—aggravated them dangerously, so she had to stay away from them. Far away…and they’d all abandoned her.

  Except Scarlett.

  Mrs. Kane would be pretty sore at her for disappearing, but Sage couldn’t take the babies, not one more second of it. She grimaced. If they weren’t crying, they wanted to be fed. If they were done being fed, they needed to be changed. Everyone thought they were sweet and wonderful and went on and on…until it gave Sage a headache.

  She had to get away so she’d left and walked as far and fast as she could. Then she’d seen Shane cutting wood, her first glimpse of him in weeks…

  Shane tossed the detritus into a round wooden container and spread his arms out in a jerk of impatience. “So why are you here?”

  Because I wanted to see you. She bit her lip and kept those words inside. “I was bored. Thought I’d come see what the rest of you were doing.”

  “I’m working. Cutting wood. We need more wood, but now I have to go and get another axe and hope I don’t break that one.” He clenched his fists and his knuckles turned white.

  “I’ll get it.” She half ran the distance to the shed, if only so he wouldn’t see the embarrassing tears that burned in her eyes at the curt, angry dismissal in his voice. Shane didn’t have to like having her there. He could be as furious with everyone else as he wanted, but she missed having someone to talk to besides Scarlett Kane and the Marshal. The Marshal spoke at her, polite—always polite—but distant and Scarlett wanted to be her friend, that much was obvious, but the babies interrupted every conversation they managed to start before it went anywhere.

  And then there was the day Scarlett melted a hairbrush—a fine, bone handled brush—into ash.

  Not really the woman she wanted to get too close to. Jerking the door to the shed open, she knuckled away her tears and peered into the gloom. Grabbing the axe, she tried to jerk it out and grunted.

  The one Shane had been swinging hadn’t looked that heavy. She grabbed it with both hands, lifted, and her arms protested, but she managed to heft it up enough to back out of the door awkwardly. A larger hand closed around the handle, just above hers, and just like that it didn’t strain her arms anymore.

  “I got it.” Shane’s voice was way too quiet and too near. Cutting a look up at him, she could still see the anger tightening his jaw and the force of his temper turning what might have been a smile into an angry slash.

  “I said I would.” Fighting with him was better than being ignored, she supposed.

  “Sage, let go of the damned axe.” He managed to keep his distance as though she were some kind of leper.

  “I’m not going to hurt you if you touch me.” The words escaped before she could suck them back in.

  “No, but I might hurt you. I’m all—” His hand on the axe trembled and the wood snapped, splintered into a bunch of little bits. The axe dragged her arms down as she stared.

  “Dammit.” Shane paced away from her and kicked one of the sawed off logs he’d been cutting. It broke and bounced in opposite directions.

  Misery clawed through her. “I’m sorry, Shane. I’ll go.”

  She’d made it a half dozen steps before he called out a quiet, “Stop.”

  Pausing, she bit down hard on the inside of her lip. The sharp pain had the dual effect of stopping her lower lip from trembling and drying up a fresh wave of tears. Refusing to turn around, she folded her arms and fisted her hands. “Why?”

  “Because it’s not your fault that I’m an ass.”

  The admission cost him and she forgave his bad temper immediately, but decided to keep that information to herself. Instead, she turned in a slow circle to face him. “Actually, it is. I make everyone worse.”

  “So?” He’d retrieved the axe and carried it, broken handle and all, back over to where he’d chopped the firewood. “We all have to learn how to live with these gifts.” Yeah, she didn’t think it was a gift anymore than he did, but every single one of their teachers insisted on calling them that.

  “Except I can’t turn my off.”

  A flicker of a smile turned up the corners of his mouth and almost succeeded in erasing his scowl. “Neither can I. So I learn to be ginger—” and his smile grew. “—like a girl.” He swung the axe and split the log. “Like that.”

  Torn between being amused and insulted, she drifted a step closer. “Except I can’t swing an axe with one arm.”

  “So, you don’t have to.” He picked up another log and set it in place and split it neatly in two. The ease with which he handled these sectioned trees should have scared her, but she found it fascinating. After three more split logs, he stared at her. “Well?”

  “Well what?” Her stomach was in knots, but she thought he’d let her stay if she kep
t quiet.

  “You wanted to talk. Talk. Just stay back over there.” He stacked two sections together and swung the axe, one-armed, and split both.

  Pain flash fired through her at the rejection. “It’s okay. Mrs. Kane and the marshal will probably come looking if I stay gone too long.” At least she’d seen him.

  “Sage…I want you to stay over there in case I shatter the axe. You could get cut.” He motioned to his shirt and for the first time she saw the rents in the fabric.

  “What happened?”

  “The axe broke, remember?” He raised his eyebrows as though waiting for her to…

  “…oh!” And she made the connection. When he’d snapped the earlier axe and turned the metal head into so many flying shards, some of them hit him. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Doesn’t hurt, remember?” A dry bitterness coated his words and Sage understood—brutally understood—why he was so, so angry all the time.

  “Yeah, I remember.” She glanced around and moved back another couple of feet to perch on a downed tree that hadn’t been sectioned for wood yet. They had a lot of them this winter and despite the apparent lull with warmer temperatures and soggy landscape, there would likely be more before it was over.

  “So talk to me.” Shane reminded her, continuing with his methodical cutting.

  She wanted to tell him about her ‘practice’ with Scarlett and how they tested her distance and level of concentration and whether it had any impact on how she amplified the ‘gifts’ of everyone around her. If they could find out how she did it maybe, like Delilah, she could learn to turn it off. And maybe they’d let her see her friends again.

  But those words didn’t come out. Instead, she said, “I miss my mother.” Once she let it out, she couldn’t take it back and she sighed, the tears filling her eyes this time not ones that brought shame.

  Thinking about her mother always hurt, so she did her best to not think about her. But every time Scarlett cuddled one of those babies or started murmuring, it cut Sage a little deeper.

  Shane exhaled a long shuddering breath and went quiet. He didn’t move any more wood to chop. “Me, too.” His response was nearly inaudible.

  Lifting her gaze, she met Shane’s and let the understanding reflected in them wash over her. It was easy for the Kanes and the Morning Stars. They had their families. Who did she and Shane have?

  Jason, Dorado

  Progress on the town rebuild had been put off with the family’s focus on training the children and coping with the fallout of the weather. Identifying the children in question helped, but only insofar as separating them seemed to have weakened Will’s weather reach. His storms were a great deal more isolated, now. Steady progress on the new fort and the presence of the doppelganger increased the pressure on finishing the town, so within a day of Kid’s exodus, Jason volunteered to tackle the project.

  He’d ridden to San Antonio, hired a full crew and brought them back—shamelessly reading the mind of every single man he hired. He wasn’t bringing in anyone who might be a spy or a threat. Adam MacPherson’s interest in his family had increased to a dangerous proportion.

  The attack on the ranch hadn’t been happenstance. Yes, Jason had sent Jo Miller, now Kane, to his family with a job as a schoolteacher because the woman needed help. He hadn’t expected Harrison Miller or his thugs to follow, but after his forced incarceration with the group, he also knew they’d have come to Dorado one way or another.

  The steady rap of hammers throughout the otherwise silent main street echoed in time to the near constant headache drumming behind his eyes. The pain was nowhere near as excruciating as the explosive one he’d woken up with after trying to tap Wyatt Morning Star into unconsciousness. Even his memory of that event seemed to have stepped back, and felt removed. He only had his family’s word that he’d even attempted the action.

  Whatever he’d seen or not seen, it was gone. That bothered him nearly as much as the fact that Kid had gone off with the wildly dangerous brother before Jason ever recovered consciousness. No one asked his opinion or talked to him about Kid and they didn’t bother to disguise their resentment or disgust regarding Jason on the issue.

  “Mr. Kane?” Juan Fernandez served as the foreman for the men Jason hired to finish rebuilding Dorado. He spoke in rapid-fire Spanish, a language in which Jason, fortunately, was fluent.

  “Si?” Pivoting, he faced the shorter man. Built square, broad shouldered with terrifically thick arms, Juan had been more than capable of doing a large portion of the heavy work. Honest and honorable, he held the men’s respect and proved daily why he’d been the first man Jason hired.

  “We will be finished with the marshal’s office, the new hotel, and the bank by the end of the week. Do you want the saloon finished next or the general store?”

  A fist squeezed his heart. “Leave the general store for last. We’ll need to be able to stock it and I need the new houses built, too.” Raising Dorado from the ashes meant bringing in new people. The best way to convince folks to move was to have something there for them to move into. “Do the saloon next. Jorge can run it after it’s done and I’ll send a couple of men for stock.”

  The crews worked without complaint, settling into a tented town they’d erected on this side of the line from the ranch property. They’d moved Dorado, nearly whole parcel from ten miles away to butt up onto the Flying K itself. Just across the river, a second town nestled amongst the trees, but Haven was only for the residents of the Flying K and the river demarcation discouraged visitors.

  Fortunately, none of the crew seemed to take issue with the smaller town across the river or their access to it. Haven had a schoolhouse, several houses, and a stable. They would likely add more to it over time, but for now it served its purpose. Jason wondered at the wisdom of keeping the kids so close to the property line. Jo and Micah maintained a house there and they’d been adding onto it, having adopted most of the younger children right into their household.

  A flicker of movement in the trees snapped his attention.

  “We’ll take care of it, Mr. Kane. Some of the men want to go home for a couple of days. I told them we had to finish the work on the center of town and then we could let them go in shifts. This work for you?”

  Still focused on the tree line, Jason studied the area where he’d glimpsed movement. “They’ve been here for nearly two weeks and I know that some of them have families in San Antonio. If you want to send them out in pairs or threes, that’s fine. Just have them check in with me before they go and immediately upon their return.” No one was entering this town that he didn’t know about. Finishing the new Dorado was important and he wanted the last nail hammered before true spring, but he wouldn’t begrudge the men time with their families either.

  “Gracias, senor. Gracias.” Juan tipped his hat and hurried away. Jason nodded absently, still focused on the trees. He’d found the source of the movement. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he walked away from the staccato beat of the hammers. The further he went, the less it echoed inside his already aching skull.

  The shade cut down on the glare from the sun and he leaned against a tree. “You know you’re not supposed to be on this side of the river.”

  A little giggle drifted down. “But it’s hard to see what they’re building from the other side.”

  “Hmm,” he didn’t look up, instead keeping watch on the work. “Does Jo know where you are?”

  “Uh-uh.” Another giggle. Five-year-old Cate was as precocious and sweet as they came.

  “What about Delilah?” The little girl adored the siren Buck married, but the newlyweds had spent much of the last ten days secluded away, and no one begrudged them their time. Not after their confrontation with the eldest Morning Star, another event Jason missed while he’d been out.

  “She and Buck are playing.” A tap of tiny heels against the tree. “But she promised to come read later.”

  Amused, Jason shook his head. “Mariska? Scarlett? Miss Annabeth
?”

  “Mariska and Cody are fighting.” No laughter this time. “She was really mad. So Ben and I snuck out.”

  Frowning, Jason glanced up at her. “Where’s Ben?”

  The sound of a low growl from another tree jerked him around and Jason saw the cougar crouched on a limb within easy striking distance if the cat leapt. Cate’s delighted laughter soothed his rapid heart rate.

  “He said I could go if I waited for him to change.”

  Smart girl. Smart boy.

  “Very good, and now both of you need to head back.”

  “Awww.” The cat echoed Cate’s complaint.

  Jason kept a wary eye on young Ben, since the boy’s shapeshifting ability gave him a definite advantage in a fight. He hadn’t mastered his beast and his thoughts were as alien as Cody’s when he was in this form. Jason tapped the tree. “Come on, I’ll walk you both back.”

  The cat leapt down and Cate shimmied down the tree like a little expert. Jason caught her halfway down and swung her the rest of the way to the ground. Her large cornflower blue eyes gazed up at him hopefully. “We’re not in trouble, right? We didn’t go off alone.”

  Unlike Cate, Ben ignored him other than to give him a purely feline look of disdain. Like so many others on the ranch, the boy blamed him for Kid’s absence. Jason shouldered it without complaint. He and his younger brother needed to talk and hash out their problems, but that wouldn’t happen until Kid was willing, if ever. Gratified when Cate took his hand, he motioned to the cat and Ben prowled ahead.

  Jason spared a moment to scan the minds closest to the tree line. None of the workers saw the kids. Satisfied, he gave Cate a little tug and walked her back toward Haven. “You two need to stay on the other side of the river. You did good,” he reminded them. “You didn’t go out alone. But it’s not safe out here.”

  “But you’re here.” Cate argued.

  “Yes, I am. But I have work to do and not everyone you meet will be nice.” They were too young to grasp the real threat, but they needed to understand that going off on their own wasn’t acceptable. It wouldn’t take much to hurt Cate. She was tiny and delicate and her gift was too passive to protect her. Ben, on the other hand, invited an entirely different kind of threat.