Raising Kane

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Raising Kane Page 37

by Long, Heather


  His gift was wide open and soaking up all the ambient emotion around him. So much so that it helped him fend off his weariness. He wasn’t taking enough from any one person to do any harm. His shields held steady, what he received was what they all shared with each other so readily.

  “All right, I’ll tell him.” Sam took another step and then halted. “Are you sure? You just got back. I really don’t need the two of you knocking heads.”

  Despite time and distance, some things never would change, remaining rock steady. Like an eldest brother’s concern…he liked it. “We’re not going to fight. Well, let me amend that. I have no intention of fighting, but he’s wanted to talk to me for a long time and I’m ready to listen. I have a few things that need to be said.”

  Sam studied him. “Should I stay awake for it?” The measure of trust in the question wasn’t lost on Kid.

  “No, I think we’ll be all right.”

  “Good.” With that, he headed down to the barn and Kid made his way toward the willow tree, the white stone bench, and his mother’s grave.

  Sliding his thumbs into his belt loops, he studied his father’s profile in silence and waited for him to acknowledge his presence. He didn’t have to wait long. Jed Kane turned his head and looked at him, his expression hidden by the shadows of the night. “Welcome home,” he greeted and stood. Kid didn’t know who moved first, but he accepted his father’s hard hug and returned it.

  “I missed you, Pa.” He wasn’t too proud to admit it. They stood that way for another few heartbeats before Jed pulled away and squinted at him.

  “You did get taller.”

  Jed had gotten older. Kid frowned as he studied his father’s face with only the trickle of light provided by the waning moon. He could see the mark of time added to the deep grooves around Jed’s eyes and heavier marks of grey streaking his hair.

  “Yes, sir.” It was harder to talk to his father than he thought it would be. One hand on his shoulder, Jed motioned to the bench.

  “Shall we sit with Miss Molly for a bit? Or would you be more comfortable somewhere else?”

  The offer, the first his father ever attempted, startled him and the fist in Kid’s gut unclenched. “No sir, I think sitting here would be fine. She might like to hear what I have to say.”

  “She would,” Jed nodded and together they sat. “Your mother would have been very proud of you, Kid. Very proud.”

  “I hope so,” he glanced at the headstone. It sat a lonely sentinel in this place of quiet beauty. They’d added a gazebo for Scarlett and Sam’s wedding, but it rested a few feet from the tree and the willow—with its long hanging leaves—sheltered Molly’s place. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “I wish I’d known her, even a little.”

  Jed mirrored his posture. “You’re like your mother. Molly, she saw the best in people. She saw what they could be. She cared about every single person she met, and she opened her home to them. I used to worry that her heart would get her into trouble. That some damn fool would try to take advantage.”

  “You’ve had straightened them out, Pa.” Of that, Kid had no doubt.

  His father didn’t agree. “If I’d tried to stop your Ma from helping someone she wanted to help, she’d have taken a strip off my hide and done what she damn well pleased. Miss Molly, she was a stubborn woman, but smart—so smart. Counted myself lucky that I persuaded her to follow me out here, but she civilized me. And she gave me you boys.” Sadness lingered around him, but so did hope and joy. It baffled Kid how he’d never sensed the other emotions before.

  “You keep her alive for us. Dressing for supper, taking care of things in the house how she wanted them done—I didn’t know her as I might have wanted, but that I know her at all is because of you.”

  Jed put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Thank you, Kid. Your Ma isn’t the only one who’s proud of you. I know you had a hard road and I didn’t do as much as a man should for his son.”

  His throat closed and Kid blinked hard against the wash of memory and regret, but they were his own and he embraced the feelings even as he fought to keep his shields steady. “I wasn’t always the best son, but everything you’ve ever taught me helped me, Pa. I’m a survivor, because that’s what you made me. That’s how you raised me.”

  Another squeeze and they went silent. After a few moments, Jed cleared his throat. “Word is, you brought a young lady back with you.”

  Wiping his eyes with the back of his arm, Kid laughed. “Yes, sir. I did. Her name is Evelyn Lang and I am looking forward to introducing the two of you.”

  “And your intentions toward the young lady?” The arch demand was so patently his father, Kid sat up straight and met him head on.

  “She’s consented to be my wife so, if you’ve no objection, I’d like to plan the wedding before she changes her mind.” He meant the last as a jest, but he definitely wanted the speedy wedding.

  Instead of being immediately enthusiastic, his father gave him a long look. “And you’re sure of her, your Miss Lang? This isn’t another…situation, as we had with Antonia?”

  He wouldn’t begrudge him the question or the judgment, but Kid didn’t want the issue to come up again. “No sir, this is nothing like that situation at all. I had no intentions of marrying Antonia. That was your plan when she named me the father of her babe.” Holding his father’s gaze, he maintained his calm. “Evelyn, she’s everything to me. She’s my Molly.”

  Jed’s expression eased and relief softened the hard lines around his mouth. “Then I look forward to meeting her, son, and welcoming her to our family.”

  “But you had to be sure?” Kid grinned.

  “In fairness son, you’ve a history about you.” But the words were seasoned with amusement and no judgment.

  “She knows all about it and she still wants to marry me.” It still floored Kid how well she knew him, how well she saw him and still she loved him.

  “You keep her close, Kid. You keep her close and treat her well. Women like that? They’re special. Sometimes you only get once.” Tears thickened his father’s voice and Kid reached out and took his arm. The pain, so old and so deep, had never healed. While Kid couldn’t and wouldn’t erase it, he could help his father shoulder the burden.

  “I know, Pa.” Opening his shields, he let the grief wash into him. “I know.”

  This, Kid could do for the man who raised him and loved him, because while he’d struggled to find common footing with his father as a boy, the man understood.

  * * *

  “Is he okay?” Jason waited for him in the sitting room with a dark-haired, fragile looking woman. Jed pulled himself together on the walk back to the house and offered to see the woman, Olivia, to her room. He didn’t know her and something seemed a bit odd about her, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Neither he or Jason spoke until their father and the young woman had vanished up the stairs.

  “He will be,” Kid answered and closed the doors to the drawing room. Most of the house was already asleep, but he didn’t want to wake anyone if they ended up shouting. “He’s missing Ma.”

  “He missed you, too.” Jason headed over to the crystal decanters on the side bar and held one up. “Drink?”

  “No. I doubt alcohol is something I’ll indulge in anymore.” He needed his wits about him and if he decided to experiment, he wanted to be in safe location where his shields crashing wouldn’t hurt anyone.

  “Does it bother you?” His brother hesitated. “To drink it? I didn’t know that.”

  Kid shrugged and walked over to find that Miss Annabeth had left food under a silver cover on another sideboard. She did that when anyone in the family hadn’t made it to the dinner table. If he were lucky she would have left sweet—and there they were—pastries. She always added something sweet. Pilfering two and pouring himself a glass of water, he carried his bounty over to sit. “I don’t know if it would bother me, but I used alcohol before to numb myself. I don�
�t think I can afford to be numb anymore.”

  “I never thought about it that way.” Jason poured a measure of the amber liquid into a glass. “Alcohol doesn’t affect my abilities. Sometimes I wish it would.”

  The awkward stilt to the conversation weighed on Kid, but as long as Jason kept trying, so would he. “Why?”

  “I can’t go numb.” Jason found a sandwich on the plate and carried it over to take a seat on the opposite chair. “Not for long anyway.”

  “At all?” Kid took a bite of the pastry. Wyatt had been right about one thing. Sweets helped when his gift strained and helping his father had been a test that pushed him particularly when he’d targeted only sharing and muting, not taking.

  “Rarely,” Jason took a bite of the sandwich and then washed it down with a swallow of the drink. “But I find I like the flavor and the illusion it offers anyway.”

  Awkward silence stretched out as they ate. Kid exhaled a hard breath. They would be here all night at this rate. “Jason—”

  “Kid—”

  Starting at the same time, they both went silent. Kid swallowed a long drink of water and put down his cup. “You’ve wanted to talk longer. Go ahead.”

  “You were angry with me for keeping my secret.” It wasn’t a question, but Kid nodded. The old hurt was there, the sense of rejection, but deeper still was incomprehension as to why Jason would have cut him off.

  “I was. I don’t think I am anymore. But I do want to know why.” His anger, he’d dealt with it. The rage and seething fury hadn’t all been Jason’s fault, but it had been directed at him.

  Instead of answering, Jason studied him. “Why aren’t you angry anymore?”

  “Control.” It was as good an answer as any. “I know myself better. I know what my gift does and I understand it. It doesn’t make the anger I had lighter than it was, but it gave me a new perspective. We were both kids, Jason. I didn’t understand what was happening, not really. Until the last few months, I didn’t even understand how far it had gone.”

  “I think I followed that.” Jason’s mouth curved into a faint smile. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to be in your head. I didn’t want to be in anyone’s head. And I couldn’t stay out of them. I would talk to someone and then I’d hear them and I’d answer, only they hadn’t said anything. I never knew when they’d actually said something or when I’d simply heard their thoughts.” He tapped the side of his head and drained his glass.

  Kid went still. Barely any emotion flickered around his brother; instead it was frosty and chill. Where he’d been exposed to what everyone felt, Jason had heard every word— “Could you hear me?”

  “You?” Jason paused, his back to him.

  “Me, what?” Kid prompted.

  “I have no way to say it without the risk of upsetting you.” The guarded statement spoke volumes. Kid’s once volatile emotional state led him to attack his brother and he’d wanted to hurt him.

  “Jason, it’s just you and me here. I want to understand. I can forgive the brother who was every bit the child I was. But I need to be your brother again and to do that I need to understand.”

  “I couldn’t keep you out.” Jason finally swung around to face him. “You were the loudest of any one and you…you were younger and everything bothered you. Everything. When I was old enough to really understand, I knew I’d been the worst kind of brother, but all I wanted was for the noise to stop.”

  “When you left, it was better.” If the barrier connected them and Kid was connected to the barrier, Jason wouldn’t have been able to keep him out. Just as Kid realized he could tell where everyone on the ranch was if he concentrated on them. When he explained his discovery, Jason’s eyes flashed.

  “That would make a certain amount of logical sense.” He tipped his head to the side, his gaze elsewhere. “The first year after the voices started, Pa took me on that trip to San Antonio. Even in the larger town, my mind was much quieter. The further away I was from family, the quieter still it became.”

  “So you found opportunities to leave…”

  “Every chance I could.”

  Understanding blossomed between them and Kid blew out a breath. “But later, when we were older?”

  “You seemed to have it under control and I found a way to block the voices, even when I was here. I could only take being on the ranch for so long before I had to go again. Pa’s work kept me busy, education kept me busy…” Jason glanced down at his glass. “It never occurred to me to see if you weren’t okay. You always had some woman or scheme or place to be.”

  They’d pulled apart and traveled in opposite directions and, like children playing a game, only looked to see if the other one missed them when the other was looking away.

  “Grown men aren’t supposed to be this foolish.” Kid scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “According to Olivia, it is the only thing we men excel at,” was his brother’s dry retort.

  “Hey, who is Olivia? She looked familiar, but I didn’t get any kind of a read off of her and there’s something wrong…”

  “She’s blind,” Jason replied quietly. “And she’s mine, so don’t try to read her.”

  “Are you two married?”

  “Yes,” his brother’s smile grew a fraction wider. “Don’t be angry with anyone because I asked them to let me tell you.”

  “When the hell did you get married?” But Kid was already on his feet and he gave Jason a hug. The embrace startled his brother and not even his frosty chill could disguise it. After a momentary hesitation, Jason gave him a pat and stepped back.

  “Two weeks ago. Did they tell you everything will be safe for your Evelyn? The men in question have been disposed of.” He needed the distance; his physical reaction hadn’t said rejection, but need.

  “Touch makes it harder to keep me out. Doesn’t it?”

  A single nod. “You have a gift that increases with contact.”

  “I also have shields now.” Kid extended his hand and Jason raised his brows, but accepted the handshake. He didn’t let go immediately and then his grin spread.

  “You do have shields. It’s there, a hum. I know it’s you, but you’re not broadcasting.” It might have been the first time Kid saw his brother impressed.

  “They did tell me what you did.” He held onto his brother’s hand. “Thank you. I don’t know what it cost you, but thank you for protecting Evelyn.”

  “I did it for both of you.” Jason accepted his gratitude and released his hand. “It needed to be done and we have other matters to discuss…including your Evelyn’s ability.”

  “Agreed.” Raking his fingers through his hair, Kid shook his head. They had time for that, time to explore the barrier and its limitations. Time to test what the three of them could manage with their gifts in concert and to discover what other gifts worked together. He was home and he was healthy and he was healed. He had time. They had time. “We need to discuss all of that, but not tonight. Tonight I want to get to know my brother again. I want to know about you and your Olivia. Tell me about her.”

  “That…” Jason’s expression softened. “…is a very long story.”

  If you enjoyed Raising Kane, please leave a review.

  * * *

  Enjoy an excerpt of

  Wanted: Fevered or Alive

  Book 6 of Fevered Hearts

  Wanted: Fevered or Alive Sneak Peek

  Jason, Dorado, Spring 1852

  Though Jason maintained his silence, the dreamwalker—Buck—wasn’t deterred. “I want to know what your reasons are. I don’t figure anyone has asked you for them. I can’t promise I’ll understand, but I won’t walk away. I’ll even keep the secrets for you.”

  Buck’s visit surprised him, but the level of sincerity in his tone left Jason uncertain. He took a moment to study the movement in town. They’d had new arrivals in the last few days, including two brothers and their sister from far north on the Red River. The McKennas had taken one look at the town under constru
ction and inquired about staying on. The brothers applied to manage the livery stable, but—through all their negotiations—their sister, Jenny, hadn’t said a word.

  Running…we’re never going to stop running. The utterly hopeless thought had been the most present in the young woman’s head. One so plaintive, lonely and profound… Jason had given them permission and arranged a contract on a home. They’d draw a salary for their work in the livery, a portion to be withheld each month until the full balance of the materials for their home were recouped.

  The McKennas fled something terrible, but they bore no threatening thoughts or ideas of causing trouble. They wanted sanctuary and the brothers wanted their sister safe. In fact, her safety rode the surface of their thoughts so loudly; Jason had exerted every effort to keep his focus on the brothers and off their sister to reduce any sense of danger. Jason knew exactly how Jed Kane would react, so Jason made the same choice. He gave them sanctuary.

  Buck’s presence continued to weigh on him, but he took time to consider why the dreamwalker chose today of all days to seek him out. 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.

  “You don’t like me.” He relented, finally, because the Morning Star brother seemed in no hurry to go away.

  “I don’t really know you.” The brutal honesty in Buck’s response startled Jason. “But what I know about you—what I’ve 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.”

  In fact, Buck had wanted to kill him on more than one occasion. Jason had no illusions about how precarious a position he’d put himself in each and every time he’d stepped between the couple. He did not regret his choice, however, not when he’d been the one to encourage Delilah to run—not when it had been his fault she’d ended up in that hellhole where Kid found her. Deep was the debt he owed the siren. Her passing resemblance to—no. Jason blockaded the thought.

 

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