Raising Kane

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Raising Kane Page 19

by Long, Heather


  “What about their bodies?” The macabre question burst from her.

  “Their remains had been scavenged over the years, but they were there. Discarded and forgotten inside some of the homes. Homes Edward never went into—homes his mind protected him from, even then. I took Edward with me, brought him here and it was a year before he spoke again. When he did, he asked me to help him cage his gift. Cage it so it never lied to him or anyone else ever again.”

  The implicit offer hung in the air.

  “I don’t want to cage mine,” Evelyn declared. “I want to learn to use it.”

  “As you wish, but, Evelyn…”

  “I won’t fight Wyatt again. I didn’t understand why you were making me do chores.”

  “Because we all need grounding in reality, you more than most. You must know everything about your environment. You must know what is real because if you slip too far…”

  She could conjure her father—a delusion she might want to cling to forever. She nodded. “I understand.”

  Chapter 14

  Buck, The Ranch

  Delilah gave him a playful shove and he slid an arm around her waist and dragged her close for another kiss. Her lashes dipped and her mouth opened to him with the breathiest little catch. Holding her close, he rested his forehead against hers. “I think I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Oh no,” the soft lyrical notes in her voice stroked him. “You were the one who said you needed to see Jason.”

  He grimaced, because he had indeed said those very words just a couple of hours before while they languished in their bed. “He can wait.” Buck rested his hands on her hips, the last few months had turned her figure lush and filled in the hollow places in her cheeks. Although shadows still lingered in her eyes, she slept peacefully and her dreams were a thing of absolute beauty—always green and verdant. The desolation of the desert he’d once had to pace through just to catch the whisper of her song bloomed with renewed life.

  “Buck,” Delilah canted her head to the side, the spill of her black hair cascading over one shoulder. She never put it up, because he always tugged the hair bands away. He loved every inch of her hair. Spreading her fingers on his chest over his heart, she grinned. “I want to spend time with the babies and Scarlett needs to spend time with Sage. You need to go see Jason. Then you will come back and fetch me and we can steal away.”

  All perfectly reasonable points, but none of them eased his personal grumble. For the most part, his brothers had indulged his need to be with Delilah and let them hide away in the cabin. The winter had brought so many painful revelations, but also provided him with the greatest joy of his life. He wasn’t quite ready to share her with anyone. The gurgle of his niece, however, intruded and he glanced down at the fiery red head grinning toothlessly up at him.

  Or not so toothlessly—“Well, I see you’ve been busy.” He let go of Delilah to swoop up the babe and she let out a delighted squeal and he spotted a second tooth to match the first. “Very busy.”

  Cobb sat like a silent little sentinel in the large crib he shared with his sister, his too solemn blue eyes fixed on them. Delilah pressed a kiss to Molly’s cheek and then bent down to look at the baby boy. “You have every right to be mad at me, I haven’t come to see you near enough.”

  The forlorn note in her voice decided him. He’d been very selfish with Delilah, and Antonia had been her friend. Maybe not the best of friends or even the dearest, but a friend nonetheless—and she’d perished along with so many others, a victim of the fever. Scarlett and Sam adopted her newborn son and raised him alongside their daughter. But Delilah adored the little boy and Buck had kept her from visiting.

  “Very well then, I will learn to share better.” He promised his niece and nephew. Delilah’s swift grin filled him with warmth and he gave Molly another kiss before settling her back into the crib. “You two behave for your aunt…” The woman in question made a startled sound and it was his turn to grin. “You are their aunt.” He reminded her and kissed the corner of her mouth, exerting every ounce of his control to not linger for more stolen moments.

  “I guess I am.” She clapped her hands together and looked down at the babies. “Now go see Jason while we three plot and plan and play.” The happy note in her voice tickled Cobb and his solemn little face transformed into a smile that nearly twinned Molly’s in its brightness.

  He was still grinning a while later as he sent his horse through the ford in the river and over to the rapidly sprawling Dorado. Jason had taken full charge of the town and the speed at which the workers constructed it was nothing short of astounding. Pausing in the middle of the street, Buck studied the layout. The Kanes had attempted to rebuild the town they remembered, but they’d made some key changes. The bank still sat directly across from the marshal’s office, both prominent features in the center of the town with the other buildings winging off on either side. A saloon sat on one corner and a church house on another—but on the opposite side and at a diagonal. The church would also double as a schoolhouse.

  They’d yet to decide whether allowing Jo to teach in Dorado proper constituted a threat, but until it became an issue, they could afford to wait out the decision. Other buildings stood ready with storefronts prepared but no signs. They’d want a dressmaker and a blacksmith, and a café or restaurant of some type and surely someone would want to replace Madame Pontfour’s, but Jed Kane immediately nixed the idea much to the amusement of his very married oldest sons. The one building that remained only a skeletal frame was the general store.

  Curious, Buck nudged his horse toward the empty shell and the man standing just inside of it. He had his back to the town, and seemed more like a slash of unrelieved darkness than a man.

  “Buck.” Jason said without turning around.

  “Jason.” The interior construction was even barer than Buck would have supposed. The workers had literally erected a foundation, filled in the floor and then the framework and nothing else. The raw wood stood exposed to the elements. “Something wrong with the store?”

  “No.” Jason glanced over his shoulder. “Is something wrong on the ranch?”

  “Not that I’m aware.” Though admittedly, he’d been rather lax about checking. An oversight he’d correct, along with making sure Delilah got to spend time with the children. She’d mentioned Cate on their lazy ride from the cabin to the main house and her reading lessons—lessons Buck had all but forgotten in the drowsy haze of passion.

  He turned fully and raised his eyebrows. “So why are you here then?”

  “I came to talk to you.” He let the loaded statement hang in the air between them. Jason’s remote expression focused and tension flexed in his jaw.

  “I thought Delilah was fine.” Concern, fleeting, but real whispered between the words. Not that long ago, Buck would have prickled at the man’s interest in Buck’s wife, but settled into the relationship and no longer threatened by Delilah’s friendship with Jason, he’d begun to see the other’s actions in a fresher light. Jason understood the danger of Delilah from the beginning and he’d still attempted to help her. The stony silence and walls he kept up were likely as much for his own defense as they were to protect those around him. In some ways, Jason reminded him of Wyatt and in others—as someone completely isolated and alone.

  It was that very isolation that brought Buck to town.

  “She is fine. She’s at the house visiting with Molly and Cobb.” Scarlett had blown Buck a kiss when he’d ridden by to check on her and Sage. Sam was with them, and the wariness in the other man concerned him, but Scarlett’s husband had merely shaken his head at Buck’s silent inquiry. They’d talk later, his attention, however had been riveted on Scarlett and the young amplifier.

  The line between his brows tightened and Jason nudged his hat up as if trying to get a better look at Buck’s face. “Then I’m puzzled as to why you’re here—not to mention leaving the ranch alone.” Outside of a brief trip to San Antonio with Micah several weeks before, Bu
ck hadn’t ventured from the ranch.

  “I’m not alone–you’re here in Dorado alone.” It bothered the dreamwalker, more than he cared to admit. Jason continued to isolate himself from his family, retreating to the unfinished town where he spent the majority of his time—alone save for the workers. He’d appointed himself the guardian of this border, but the fact that his brothers allowed him to do it was another questionable decision. The hard feelings surrounding Kid had not diminished in the intervening months.

  If anything, they’d grown and they’d focused on a singular target—Jason Kane.

  “Because you need a friend.” More than that, he needed a brother. And whether he liked it or not, whether Jason liked it or not, Jason was one of them—he was Fevered. He was as much their brother as Kid was and it didn’t matter if one didn’t like a brother, they were not to be abandoned.

  A faint smile curved Jason’s mouth. “You don’t have to feel sorry for me, Buck. I understood the risk of keeping my own counsel.”

  Buck shrugged. “You made choices. You haven’t apologized for them. You haven’t excused them. So I suspect you had reasons for them.”

  A guarded look crossed Jason’s face and Buck smiled. If anything, loving Delilah taught him to look deep beneath the surface actions. What one perceived did not always mean it was a truth. Even dreams lied.

  When Jason maintained his silence, Buck dared to press the issue further. “I want to know what the reasons are. I don’t figure anyone has asked you for them. I can’t promise I’ll understand any better, but I won’t walk away. I’ll even keep the secrets for you.”

  The Kane brother’s gaze flicked away, studying the movement in the town. The lazy sound of hammers striking interspersed other building noises including the use of a handsaw and further away, the mill where they cut fresh boards for building. Dorado would be utterly self-sufficient. Jason had seen to that.

  “You don’t like me.” The telepath chose his words with care, and delivered them in a near toneless voice.

  “I don’t really know you.” Raw honesty, he’d decided was the only way this would work. “But what I know about you—what I witnessed for myself—and the risks you took for Delilah…earned you my respect. You didn’t have to help her, and while I may not have appreciated it at the time, you didn’t have to help me either.” Not when Buck had been blinded by devotion to her ability. He’d wanted to kill the Kane brother and the man took his life in his hands every single time he’d come between Buck and Delilah, yet he’d persisted and she was so much stronger, so much more confident—she was free. It was a debt Buck could never repay, but at the very least, he intended to try.

  Jason stared at him long and hard. Buck didn’t have to imagine why—the telepath read him. And Buck allowed it. He had nothing to hide and he’d meant every word. He’d taken months to really wrap his mind around all of it, but when he’d talked to Delilah about it that morning, she’d agreed with him. It was the last nudge of encouragement he’d needed.

  The ice cracked and the telepath scrubbed a hand over his face. “I do not understand you Morning Stars.”

  The dreamwalker grinned. “I said the same thing about your family.”

  A grudging smile eased his expression and Jason paced away to touch a hand to one of the main struts in the framework. “I do not want them to finish this building and I keep fighting the urge to burn it down.”

  Surprised, Buck canted his head back to study the construction. It seemed sturdy enough, if unfinished and barren. “Why?”

  “Because in the old town this is where Olivia lived. In the home above the store. She lived there with her parents.” Jason wasn’t looking at him and Buck had no idea who Olivia was, but a chill settled in the base of his spine. They’d lost nearly every single soul from within Dorado proper. If Olivia had lived… Oh. Understanding crashed through him.

  Jason didn’t say anything more, but Buck remained. Grief was a poor companion, and he’d been right—Jason did need a brother.

  Scarlett, Somewhere on the Ranch

  Scarlett wanted to kill her husband—not literally—but the idea of hitting him in the back of the head with a tree branch again occurred to her more than once. Sam’s vigilance and protectiveness were two of his most endearing qualities, except lately something had changed and she couldn’t quite put her finger on what precisely. Pursing her lips, she exhaled a sharp breath of air in an attempt to keep her own temper in check.

  Sitting across from her, Sage’s arms were folded, her jaw set and her eyes flashing. She didn’t want to be here anymore than Sam did. The girl held herself rigidly, but she’d turned fourteen a scant few days before and hadn’t told anyone. The only reason Scarlett found out was because of Shane. The taciturn young man had come to the main house to actively seek her out and in a few uncomfortable sentences demanded to know why they hadn’t done at least something to acknowledge the day.

  “Sage,” Scarlett leaned toward her and extended a hand to her, palm up. For the barest moment, uncertainty and fear skittered through the girl’s expression and if the firestarter hadn’t been watching for it, she might not have noticed. It hurt, but the ache was old and very familiar. She also didn’t blame her.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” Sage admitted in a soft whisper so low, Scarlett barely heard her. And that attitude was all their fault. The reaction to learning Sage amplified the abilities of everyone around her had been exceptionally negative. They’d decided sending her to Scarlett made sense and the firestarter agreed, her volatile ability required control at all times and she still had to blow off steam. The unconscious amplification only increased the frequency of her need, and she could handle it far better than the young ones who barely understood what their gifts were much less had the control to handle them.

  “I think we’re safe—unless you’re planning to bite me.” The teasing remark did very little to ease the tension around Sage’s eyes. Scarlett kicked herself for not noticing this sooner. Without looking at her husband, she murmured, “Sam, you need to go away.”

  “Why?” With one syllable, her irritation with him melted. It was a genuine question and despite his every attempt to hide his concern over her time with Sage and what it might be doing to her abilities, she’d noticed—and loved him even more because he continued to trust her to handle it without interference.

  “Girl talk.” She stole a look over her shoulder at him, and grinned. “Personal girl talk.”

  His eyebrows raised and the corner of his mouth tilted up. “So you’ll need the rest of the day?”

  She grinned. “A couple of hours, if you please kind sir.” The playful banter did what her earlier request hadn’t managed—it softened the lines of tension around his eyes.

  “All right. I should probably check in with Micah and Pa.” He rose and Scarlett sighed. All long, and lean and hard-bodied, Sam was a lot larger than she, but his strength only inspired safety—and desire. She tilted her head up and he bent down to brush his mouth over hers. “Behave.”

  “I’ll think about it.” She wrinkled her nose and mimicked her best bratty expression. He chuckled and ran his finger down her cheek.

  “No, you probably won’t even do that.” He knew her so well. His gaze swept over Sage. “Give her hell.”

  The younger girl blinked at the advice and Scarlett hid another smile. “I’m sorry Marshal?”

  “Give her hell.” He repeated and strolled off. Scarlett watched him go, her gaze lingering on the way the denim pulled over his hips and legs. Adoration and desire twinned inside of her and she sighed.

  Tapping her fingers to her lips, she slid a sideways glance at the befuddled Sage and grinned. “Do you know the first time I met him, he arrested me?”

  “What?” It wasn’t a story Scarlett often told and chances were, Sage wouldn’t have known it anyway. She’d been even younger when Scarlett first came to Dorado and despite Sam’s insistence, his family had never treated her like a prisoner.

  “O
h, it’s very true. He arrested me—because I robbed a bank.” Settling back into place, she stretched her hand out to the girl again. “Now, I won’t burn you—but come on, hold my hand.”

  “I know you can control your gift.” The unease in the teen’s posture returned. “But we don’t know if touching doesn’t make mine something more…”

  “So?” Scarlett shrugged. Her father had never made her feel dangerous, even when she’d burned him. He’d never withheld touch, never not reached out to her. It was time to show Sage she was a part of their rather unorthodox family.

  “Why aren’t you more afraid of me?” Sage blurted out, her gaze torn between Scarlett’s face and the hand Scarlett held out.

  “Because you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.” The firestarter believed this absolutely. “Sage, I grew up with seven brothers—seven. I was the only girl on the mountain and sometimes, no matter how much they loved me or looked after me, I felt utterly alone. I burn people, I set beds on fire…and once…” Scarlett still winced at this memory. “…and once I burned my father very badly. Not once did they turn away from me. I think you feel like everyone here has turned away from you because they sent you off to live with me and you don’t get to see them.”

  Pain flashed in Sage’s eyes and Scarlett wanted to wrap her arms around her and hug her. The ferocity of the need to protect the young woman bloomed with the force of an explosion. Tears sparkled for the barest of a second and then vanished again. The ruthless suppression of her upset bothered Scarlett, but she pressed on.

  “The truth is, they want to make sure you’re okay. The only way to do that is to help you identify what you do and I might be the best suited because I really do feel what you’re doing.” She’d wrestled with this admission, one she hadn’t completely shared with Sam because she’d known how worried he was. The day she’d burned the cattle, Scarlett had experimented with the sheer level of power burning inside of her and she’d burned hotter than ever before.

 

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