Julianna—Jenny—disciplined her mind and gave him a polite smile, then took advantage of her brother’s distraction. She slipped the pad and saddle onto the mare and tightened the girth. Mitchell still had his back to her when she checked, but Jason Kane merely lifted his eyebrows.
Would he comment on her actions, alerting her brother, or would he keep Mitchell occupied? A few minutes alone was all she craved. Time to ride, think and regroup. Mitchell and Royce didn’t understand, since they came and went as they pleased. They weren’t living in a glorified jail cell decorated by curtains and white fences. The open land beckoned and she wouldn’t go far, just enough to be alone.
For a split-second, she contemplated crossing the river onto the Flying K. They probably had plenty of places to ride. She shook her head. No, she had no business trespassing, but she could still ride. Fisting the mare’s mane, she glanced at her brother again. He still talked to Mr. Kane. She only needed a few minutes. If he went inside, she could get the hell out of here for a little while. It might have been her imagination, but Mr. Kane nodded once, then focused on her brother and motioned to the barn. They disappeared inside and she gaped. She’d put no will into her desire, added no energy. Nothing of her magic leaked.
Relieved, not willing to look the gift in the face, she swung up onto the mare’s back and turned her to ride toward the back of the paddock. The best way to avoid being seen was to let herself out of the gate on the far side.
“Thank you, Mr. Kane,” she murmured and could have sworn she heard a quiet you’re welcome. Shaking off the silly notion, she exited the gate, locked it up and then tapped the mare’s sides.
Freedom.
Jo, Haven
Her back ached, but she continued to wipe down the large chalk slate on the wall. When Micah surprised her with the huge mounted rock, she’d nearly cried. He’d simply pulled her into his lap and let her have a good weep. Pregnancy, she’d discovered, made her weep at everything. Happy, sad, angry, all emotions ended in tears.
Bless her husband, he’d adapted with far greater ease to her continued distress than she did. Husband. A smile curved her lips and she felt tears prick her eyes. Micah Kane. Had they really been married for over a year? It would be two in a few short months, just before the baby arrived. The tears fell before she could set aside the eraser, and she settled into her chair.
Thankfully the children were outside. Most had chores, some attended lessons for their abilities, and the youngest napped, though she should probably check on Cate and Ben. The pair earned a reputation for sneaking off together. Ben could handle himself most of the time. The young cougar shifter adapted pretty well to his abilities. He’d proven extremely helpful to Anthony. Though older than Ben by nearly five years, Anthony struggled with his wolf side. Cody and Mariska helped both boys, but Jo suggested Ben could help Anthony more since he mastered those same fears.
The friendship developing between the pair proved supportive to both. Cate, however, had been jealous of all the time the two boys spent together so Ben started sneaking the two off so he and Cate could have time too. As long as the adults knew where they went, they allowed the small rebellion, but the terrible duo didn’t always remember to tell someone before they ventured off.
Especially at nap times.
Retrieving a handkerchief from the drawer, Jo dabbed at her eyes. At some point, she needed to stop crying. The sound of a throat clearing garnered her attention. Sage stood near the mudroom. “I’m sorry Mrs. Kane,” she said, her once aggrieved tone muted to something far shyer. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not,” she assured the girl and dabbed at her eyes again. “I was just crying over the new slate board Micah installed. And Sage? You can call me Jo. Class isn’t in session.” She insisted they address her as Mrs. Kane during classroom time, but outside, she allowed Jo or Miss Jo, if they preferred.
“It’s hard to call you by your Christian name, Mrs. Kane,” Sage said by way of apology. The girl entered more fully, walking up the aisle between the bench seats the students used when they came for class. Sage had been missing more and more of late, though Scarlett insisted she read a great deal at the main house and she spent time with Olivia and Evelyn, both of whom tutored the girl. Jo’s sisters’-in-law—all three—looked out for Sage, so Jo tried not to complain.
“I understand. Of course, there are four Mrs. Kanes, so why don’t we compromise? If you could call me Miss Jo or Mrs. Jo, it would do quite fine.”
“I’ll try, Mrs. Jo.” The address sounded awkward, perhaps due to the girl’s nervousness.
“Wonderful.” Settling on approval, Jo nodded to the first bench for Sage to take a seat. “What can I do for you, Sage?” Was she finally willing to come to class? When they’d discovered Sage could amplify talents, they’d been forced to segregate her from the other children. Too many of the Fevered children possessed unknown talents, while others possessed very volatile and dangerous talents. Sage’s presence increased the opportunity for disaster. She’d moved into the main house to work with Scarlett, one of the few Fevered who could monitor Sage’s output in direct relation to her firestarting.
Between the two, Sage managed to control her ability as long as she remained calm—a task she was not wholly suited for.
“I was talking to Miss Olivia and Miss Evelyn this morning,” Sage began, her hands closed together so hard her knuckles showed white. “They both said I read very well, but I need more instruction and patience in my letters and reasoning.” Her mouth pinched on the last. Reasoning? The particular charge likely came from Evelyn. Married to Kid, Evelyn had been raised by a territorial judge.
“All right.” Jo nodded, accepting the information. She had a couple of choices—react to Sage’s declaration with an offer or wait and see if Sage made a request.
“Apparently my numbers aren’t as good as they could be either, and I need a better…foundation in history.” Her nose wrinkled.
Apparently the Kane wives conspired against poor Sage, so Jo kept her smile hidden even as her eyes went damp again. Oh, she couldn’t afford to cry now. Tears might scare the girl off. As casually as she could, she wiped at the corners of her eyes.
“Numbers are an excellent skill, even if all you’re doing is managing the funds for a household or figuring the amount of feed you need for the cattle and horses.” Practical applications, she’d learned, reached the children far more effectively than theory. Most of her students had been born on the ranch and most would likely never leave Dorado, but education would prove vital. As they’d seen, their world changed every day. “As for history, if we do not know where we came from, how do we avoid repeating past mistakes?”
“By dying.” The blunt response surprised Jo, which must have shown because Sage quickly added, “I mean, if you keep doing the wrong things, you’re going to get hurt.”
“Perhaps. How do you know when they’re wrong, though? Or when to avoid the wrong thing?” Critical thinking, another skill her children would need to survive. Being Fevered in a world they couldn’t afford to have recognize their abilities meant thinking everything through. Every decision. Every choice. Every opportunity.
Instead of answering, Sage fidgeted and plucked at her skirt.
The girl radiated insolence and loneliness by turns. Jo suspected insolence covered for her loneliness. “What’s wrong?”
“If all of this is so important, then why did Shane get to go with Jimmy? Why isn’t he here learning, too?”
“Well, I can think of a number of answers which may soothe you and lull you back into class with us, Sage,” Jo answered slowly. She could soften the lie, tell her what they wished the world would be like. Or she could be honest, and accept the world as it was. “The only answer I have is he trains with Jimmy as you do Scarlett. He has for months. This mission Jimmy went on is important. Shane going with him was important to Shane.”
The younger girl blinked and, for a moment, her eyes filled with tears. Before Jo
could react to the pain in her expression, it vanished—the speed of its disappearance worrisome, in and of itself. “It’s not fair. If Scarlett went somewhere, they’d never let me go.” Then she grimaced. “They probably wouldn’t let Scarlett go.”
“I don’t know about that.” No one should shut down as efficiently as Sage had done. No one. The last time she’d seen someone close themselves off like that, it had been Micah’s younger brother and all hell had broken loose when he’d erupted. They’d nearly lost Jason and Kid on the same day. Sage was old enough to understand the unfairness inherent in their world, but not quite mature enough to be bearing such a burden on her own. “I think you should begin a history lesson immediately.”
“I haven’t really decided…”
Waving off the indecision, Jo fixed a firm gaze on the younger girl. “I don’t care. You can come to class or not. We have given you this power because your lessons required a different handling. However, I am still your teacher and, more importantly, we’re family.” She had her attention. “I want you to talk to Scarlett about how she came to the Flying K, her history and about what happened when the Fever broke out here.”
“I know all that. She married the marshal, and she didn’t get sick because she was already Fevered.” Yes, Sage knew part of the story.
“Well, yes, those are both facts, but they are not what happened exactly, nor do they explain why it occurred.”
Sage frowned and leaned forward. “What happened?”
“No, no.” Jo rose, feeling a bit more buoyant facing this challenge than she had all morning. “You must complete the assignment. Talk to Scarlett. Talk to Sam. You may talk to any of the adults you like. In fact, that’s even better. Ask each of them for the story of that time.”
“Do you think someone will lie to me?” Confusion replaced the cool distance in the girl’s expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity.
Enormously pleased by the turn of events, Jo merely smiled. “I believe history is found in the eyes of the beholders. No two people have the exact same experience and, if you are to learn from history, you need to gather all the information and discover it.”
The last went over Sage’s head because she frowned either in irritation or bewilderment. So Jo patted her arm as she passed by. “Why don’t we have some tea, and you can ask me about my history? I need to check on Cate and Ben.”
“Oh they’re at the pond near the flats a little ways north. I passed them when I rode down here.”
Jo sighed. Of course they were. “Shall we have a cup of tea then take a walk to fetch them?”
“You don’t want to get them right now?” Sage followed her out of the school.
“No,” she said. “Sometimes children need to have the freedom to make mistakes, too. Ben won’t let anything happen to Cate. She will keep him from taking too many risks.”
As it should be.
Kid, The Flying K
Matching Micah pace-for-pace, Kid counted the herd in the southern field while Micah counted the northern. This time of year they kept the cattle in the higher pastures—better for grazing, with plenty of natural cover should the weather turn sour. They’d ridden out the morning before, determined to finish the job in a couple of days, three at most.
Micah wouldn’t stay out longer than three days. Jo’s pregnancy made him itch to be with his wife. Kid offered to do the count on his own. What made Micah exceptional at running the ranch was his need to be hands on and two would count faster than one. So they’d left Jason to watch over Haven and the main ranch while Sam monitored the town.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Kid felt his brother reaching out. The mental tap—almost a knock—announced his need to communicate. One moment… he answered with a request for patience. Jason could sometimes hear the words; sometimes he only received the feeling. Either way, Kid didn’t want to lose count.
If it were an emergency, his brother wouldn’t have been polite. The friction between him and Jason remained greatly reduced, but they still had their moments. A week before, over dinner, they’d ended up in a silent argument over the upcoming presidential election which resulted in their father kicking both of them out so the women could eat in peace. They’d taken the debate to the porch and, sometime around dawn, agreed to disagree.
Satisfied he counted right, he sent out a thought to his brother. The barrier around the ranch enhanced both of their abilities. So much so, in fact, he merely thought of Jason to locate him…and Jason wasn’t on the ranch. Close, but not on the physical property. He’d likely headed to Dorado for business.
I’m here. He waited for Jason to acknowledge him. The cool rush of his brother’s mental voice replied swiftly.
I’m in Dorado. I want you to come to town when you and Micah are done with the head count.
Kid rubbed the back of his neck. When they finished this task, he planned to check on the construction of the bath house, then see his wife. Not necessarily in that order. Evelyn was still adapting to life on the Flying K, and though she’d let go of her wild need for vengeance, she still grieved her father.
Instead of responding immediately, he waited. Then Jason added, If you don’t mind, I’d like your opinion on a matter here.
Better. Kid grinned. They may never be the best of friends, but if Jason needed him, he’d go. What’s going on?
A momentary pause, so Kid turned the horse. He angled north to intercept Micah. They had one more spot to check and it was mid-afternoon. If they pushed, they could ride back this evening and sleep in their own beds before dawn.
The McKennas.
It took him a minute to recall them—new owners for the livery stable, two brothers and a sister. Kid had yet to meet any of them. Jason warned they kept a secret, but it had nothing to do with them or Fevered, so they’d left them alone. Did something happen?
Olivia says I should trust my gut. You’re better with gut.
His brother’s wife was a treasure. She’d softened Jason in ways Kid couldn’t begin to explain if he tried. Though Jason still affected an air of remoteness, she warmed him and made him smile. Kid even heard him laugh several times. They all needed more laughter in their lives. It’ll be tomorrow or the day after before I can, unless it’s an emergency.
If something were truly wrong, Jason would tell him.
It can wait. I want your opinion on them, particularly Jenny McKenna. Something had his brother worried.
We’ll take care of it. He warmed the words with assurance. He waited a beat. Give your wife a kiss for me.
Would his brother rise to the bait or would he shut him out? The only kisses she needs or wants are mine, William.
Laughing out loud, Kid earned a glare from Micah that made him laugh all over again. Talk to you soon, brother. Only two people called him William—his father and Evelyn. His brothers gave him hell over the name on a regular basis, but Jason teasing him back felt good.
Who knew, maybe they would be friends?
“Are you done talking to our brother?” Micah asked, his amused eyes betraying his stern expression.
“Yes, and I’m done counting. I can do two things at once, can you?”
Slowing his horse next to Kid, Micah thumped him and they both laughed. “A little over a thousand. How about you?”
“About eight hundred and eighty, give or take a cow.”
“Excellent.” Delight filled Micah and he pointed east. “We’re up almost two hundred. Good year for babies.”
Yes, it was. Micah and Jo were expecting. Sam and Scarlett awaited their third, as did Cody and Mariska. If the year continued as it began, he expected Delilah and Buck to announce any day. Which left him and Jason… “Speaking of babies…” Kid tapped his heels to the mare’s sides. “Let’s get this count done and go home.”
“Agreed.”
The nice thing about Micah was he didn’t need to talk. Some things didn’t need to be said, but the hint of worry in his brother’s eyes and posture deserved a comment. “She’s f
ine.”
“What?” Micah twisted in the saddle to look at him.
“Jo.” Kid’s mind zeroed in on her—a warm, gentle, yet animated spirit, and he felt her zest and a thread of excitement. “She’s fine.”
His brother sighed. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Care to let them run?”
“Hell yes.” Then they didn’t need to talk at all.
Chapter 7
Onsi, Campfire under the Stars
The man called Jimmy led her back to his camp where the younger man he’d argued with earlier awaited their arrival. Their appearance caused a stir. While Jimmy spoke to the boy, Onsi tended to her horse. Numerous sticky nettles riddled the gelding’s filthy coat while mud caked his legs. The hard leather saddle chafed the creature’s back and foam slicked his sides. Stripping away the gear, she let it land where it fell. The shackles the white man used to encase their beasts offered the suggestion of control through a combination of inflicting pain and providing relief of pain.
The sores on the horse’s back horrified her. Why would anyone inflict harm on such a gentle creature? Recognizing the shaking signs of an animal used to abuse, she began to hum and speak in the soft language of the warrior. They knew how to request the assistance of a horse, to exchange the gift of their service for one of caring. With every syllable and gentle stroke, she offered the same respite to this poor beast. Had she realized how grievous he’d been treated before, she would have walked by its side and not asked him to bear her weight.
When he dipped his head to rub against her chest, she began to work the burrs and spindly needles from his mane—long pine needles, not typical of the plains. Where they came from, she remained uncertain. Some mountains had the longer pines, but none she’d visited since she was a young child. A memory—a vague image of a half-forgotten place—came to mind. She could almost taste the snow in the air and the sweeter scents beneath it. The elusive impression fled too swiftly for her to recognize the location.
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