The Uncharted Series Omnibus

by Keely Brooke Keith

  Lydia wondered if the knowledge of Connor’s origin and the threat of invasion would be too much for her aunt to handle. Lydia knelt in front of her and took her hand. “How much did you hear?”

  “All of it, child.” Isabella smiled. “I have known for a while now where the young man is from. I have heard him sneaking out of his room each night. I knew he was looking for a way home. It is a pity he cannot get back to his own people—for their sake anyway. It is good for us, I think. I am rather fond of him.”

  “Oh, Aunt Isabella! I am relieved you aren’t shocked or frightened by the situation. Connor and Levi will do everything they can to protect the Land. This is a good thing they are doing. They will warn the other villages, and everything will be fine.”

  “They are good men, Lydia.” Isabella’s mouth moved between words. “There is something I want to give you, dear.”

  Lydia glanced back at the kitchen. She felt anxious knowing the men were waiting for her and what she had to do. “What is it?”

  “Oh, never mind. It can wait.” Isabella patted Lydia’s hand. “Go and do your part to help them. When you return, I shall delight in hearing your report.”

  Though Isabella gleaned every detail she could from the conversations in the house, Lydia knew her aunt was still unaware of the bulk of the situation. She could not imagine burdening the elderly woman with any additional information. Lydia rose. “I must go now.” She patted her aunt’s hand then rushed back through the kitchen and outside, where Levi and Connor were waiting.

  Chapter Eight

  The bright sun quickly warmed the autumn morning, but it was more than the weather that changed the air between Connor and Levi. A common enemy gave Connor a purpose for their partnership, and he hoped it would give Levi a productive place to focus his aggression.

  The two men walked with Lydia to the market just as they had planned. As they passed the pottery yard, Bethany called Lydia over to look at something she was making. Connor and Levi waited for her on the road. Connor looked ahead into the village and saw the people gathering in the open-air market. Then he glanced back over his shoulder and saw Frank a short distance behind them, walking into the village on the road.

  Connor nudged Levi. “Here comes the dirt bag now.”

  Levi waved Lydia back to them. As she rejoined the men, her eyes glanced at Frank and then she looked at Connor. “I want to get this over with as quickly as possible. It is terribly unpleasant business.”

  Connor stayed at her side as they walked along the cobblestone street between the church and the library. Part of him wanted Frank to do something—anything—to give him a reason to beat the pervert’s face in. Connor let the scene play out in his mind and enjoyed every second of the imagined beating.

  When they entered the market, Connor noticed how Lydia wrung her hands and glanced from side to side while she made conversation with friends. He wondered if Frank would detect her odd behavior. While Levi hovered close to Lydia, Connor moved around the merchants’ booths. He tried to appear interested in the displays as he tracked Lydia’s stalker. He watched Frank pluck an apple from a fruit stand when the vendor was distracted. Frank tucked the apple into the pocket of his oversized coat and then found a place in the shadows to eat the stolen fruit. Frank stared at Lydia all the while.

  Connor caught Levi’s eye. Levi nodded in recognition and positioned himself where he could keep Frank under surveillance. He did not want to leave Lydia there in front of Frank, but Levi was fully capable of protecting her.

  Connor walked back down the cobblestone street and hoped he had gone unnoticed. He increased his pace where the cobblestones ended and the gravel began. Once he passed the Colburn house, his stride accelerated from a jog to a steady run. He sped through the tall grass and into the forest, following Frank’s well-warn path to the cabin past the bluffs.

  The cabin appeared unlivable; its wood siding was rotten, its roof held a puddle of rainwater where it bowed in the center, and several tree saplings waved from its gutter. The steps on the outside of the one-room structure creaked as Connor climbed them. Though Lydia had said Frank lived alone, Connor stood still and listened with his ear at the door before he reached for the knob. His pulse accelerated as he imagined a fight. Once he felt certain the place was empty, he opened the door.

  The acidic stench of the unkempt cabin stung his nose, and he wished he could leave the door open for fresh air, but he decided against it. Enough light came through the grease-filmed window for him to see. He spotted his boots under the edge of the bed and started searching there for the rest of his gear. He pulled out a stack of gray paper to look behind it but stopped when he noticed the top page was a sketch. It was an intricate drawing of Lydia. Her likeness had been captured with artistry and perfection. He flipped through the rest of the pages. Each page was another drawing of Lydia—different poses and settings, but each sketch portrayed her beautifully.

  He pulled a second stack of papers from under the bed—again, more sketches. Lydia looked younger in the sketches at the bottom of the stack. There were hundreds of the drawings, and she had not posed for a single sketch. When he saw a drawing where Lydia’s skin was bare, his nostrils flared and he shoved the papers back under the bed. He remembered John’s instruction not to cause any damage, and that order was the only thing that kept him from tearing the cabin apart. He ran a hand over his hair and took a deep breath, but it did little to calm him.

  Connor continued to search the room. The beacon had to be there somewhere. He went to a small dresser and rummaged through the drawers. The dresser only contained a foul-smelling mess of clothing items he was sure had never been washed. He inspected the only bookshelf in the room. It held jars of shark teeth, empty spools, and chipped dishes full of rusted fishhooks, but not a single book. He moved past a blackened fireplace—its hearth overflowed with ashes—and noticed a bench seat at the table. It was not a seat; it was a wooden trunk. As he lifted the lid, he saw his balled up parachute inside the trunk. Beneath the parachute lay a pile of cables and carabineers, his watch and helmet, a flashlight, and a few small scraps of plastic that were probably a part of the ejection seat. He turned on the flashlight and used it to look in the corners of the trunk. Underneath it all, he spotted the locator beacon. It had not been activated. Connor popped the plastic backing off and removed the battery. He put the battery in one of his trouser pockets and the beacon in the other. He wanted to take his watch and the flashlight too but—remembering his orders from the overseer—he fought the desire and only removed their batteries. Connor put the rest of the equipment back in the trunk the same way he had found it and left the way he came.

  Connor’s feet hit the gravel road in pounding thuds. The thick scrub on either side of the road muffled the sound of his rapid stride. He shifted into a near sprint, eager to get back in the village, eager to get Lydia out of Frank’s sight. The passion that fueled his anger also increased his energy.

  The visit to Frank’s cabin to retrieve the inactivated locator beacon was supposed to bring him relief—maybe even a sense of control—knowing the Land would remain undetected, or at least it would not be detected due to his equipment. The people would be protected and their unique culture preserved. Lydia would not be harmed by the technology Connor brought to the Land. However, seeing Frank’s sketches of Lydia burdened Connor with a whole new dread. Frank was not just an annoying admirer—he was obsessed and had crossed the line. And Connor and Levi were using her as the lure to keep Frank occupied. Connor did not slow his pace until his feet hit the cobblestone streets. He was desperate to see that Lydia was safe.

  When Connor arrived at the market, he scanned the crowd but did not see Lydia anywhere. He grew worried as he marched through the vendors and artists, but then he spotted Levi near a weaver’s loom. As Connor walked to him, he noticed Levi’s gaze was not on the weaver, but fixed on the shrubs at the back of the sandy lot. Levi glanced at Connor then pointed at the tree line behind the market. “Frank
is hiding back there.”

  Connor moved only his eyes in the direction Levi indicated and saw Frank sitting on the ground behind a shrub, peering out like a depraved imp. “Where is Lydia?”

  “She had to go to the cottage. Someone needed her. Frank is probably waiting for her to come back.”

  Connor glanced at Frank again and clenched his fists but left them at his sides. “Man, I want to go over there and—”

  Levi lifted a hand. “I have dealt with this for years. If anyone gets to take him apart, it’s going to be me.”

  * * *

  Lydia examined the burned skin on her patient’s hand then went to the cabinet to get a fresh jar of ointment. “It could have been much worse, Cordelia,” Lydia said as she walked back to the patient cot where the woman sat. “If you keep the skin covered in this salve it should heal completely in a couple of days.” Lydia opened the jar, and the aroma of pure gray leaf tree oil filled the air. She was used to the strong smell and barely noticed it, but her patient let out a little cough and blinked rapidly. “It is a bit pungent, but it will heal the burn in the fraction of the time it would take to heal naturally.”

  “I will do whatever you say, Lydia. I have never felt such pain as I did today. I am sorry I took you away from the market,” she apologized as Lydia spread the medicine on her burned skin. “I saw when you were called out of the Fosters’ party last night to help someone, and I wondered if you ever get to have a life of your own. Then today I went and spoiled your time at the market by getting myself burned.”

  “Oh now you did not spoil anything at all,” Lydia replied. She thought of her morning at the market and how she had been glad to have someone take her out of Frank’s view. She wrapped a thin piece of muslin around her patient’s hand then smiled. “I am always happy to help.”

  Lydia stood and carried the ointment to the worktable then got an empty jar from the cabinet. While filling the jar with the medicinal salve for her patient to take home with her, Lydia wondered what was happening with Connor at the cabin and Levi at the market. When she had left the market to treat Cordelia, Levi had stayed to watch Frank. She wondered if Connor had returned to the village yet or if there had been trouble. Trying not to think of the situation while she was with a patient, Lydia stepped to her desk, picked up her pen and a piece of paper, and wrote instructions for her patient. As she walked back to her patient, Lydia glanced out the window and noticed Levi walking onto the property from the road. Connor was not with him.

  “Lydia?”

  She looked at her patient. “Yes?”

  “You looked a thousand miles away. Is there something wrong?”

  Lydia knew she could not answer truthfully—there were many things wrong. There was a man who fell from the sky and could not return to his people. His people would ruin the Land if they knew about it. He was putting himself at risk to protect the Land and all she could do was watch and wait. Lydia chose not to answer her patient at all. She smiled at Cordelia and held out the jar of gray leaf ointment. “Put this salve on the burn twice a day. The skin will shed itself a few times as new skin grows. Let me know if you need any more of this.” Her patient took the jar and stood. Lydia walked with her to the door. “Do you need me to walk you home?”

  “No, no. Joshua is in your father’s house. I thought he would rather spend his time speaking with the overseer instead of watching me get bandaged up.” Lydia held the door open for Cordelia and followed her out. The woman’s husband was standing near the open door of the kitchen and saw her coming. Lydia waved to him as she stepped back into her cottage.

  She closed the door and sat at her desk, trying to focus on her notes. Her mind was distracted with worry about Connor, causing her to release her pen and stare blankly at the door. A figure passed the window, but she could not see who it was through the curtain. Before she could get up and look out, Levi tapped on the door and turned the knob. He opened the door a fraction. “Are you alone?”

  “Yes. Is Connor back?” Lydia stepped to the door, pulled it open, and looked out but did not see Connor.

  Levi walked inside smelling of sweat and straw. He sat in the chair beside her desk. “He came back to the village just after you left the market.”

  “Did he find the device?”

  “He said he did. It had not been activated. I figured that would make him happy, but he was pretty angry.”

  “Angry? Why?”

  “Because Frank Roberts is a pervert and deserves to get his face punched in.”

  “No, that’s why you were angry. What did Connor say?”

  Levi’s eyes narrowed a degree as he looked at Lydia, but he did not answer. Lydia wanted to go to Connor. She wanted to know he was all right. She did not know why she felt that way, but she could not ignore it. “Well?” she questioned again.

  Levi inclined his head. “Why are you so worried about Connor?”

  “I am not worried about Connor,” Lydia lied. She was more than worried—she held herself responsible for Connor and for anything bad that might happen to him because of Frank. She felt responsible for the Land and its possible endangerment because of Connor. She had drawn Frank’s vulgar attention, and she had found Connor when he arrived. Whatever happened in any aspect of the situation, she was sure it would be her fault. Lydia shook her head then sat at her desk. “I’m concerned.”

  “Connor is a grown man, Lydia. And he is a warrior. I don’t think he needs your concern.” Levi laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in the chair. “Don’t you have more urgent matters to fret over… responsibilities that concern your work, not his?”

  “There may be people generating electricity in other villages and it could alert the outside world to our Land. This is a very concerning situation for me.”

  “No, it’s not… not for you. This is your work.” Levi looked around the room as he spoke. “Connor and I will go to the other villages and speak to the overseers. If anyone is experimenting with the technology Connor mentioned, the elders will handle it. But I don’t think anyone in the Land has the kind of inventions that Connor is worried about. After our journey to the southern villages, we will stop here before we travel north. The whole business will only take a couple of months. Then we’ll be home. I will be home, anyway... maybe Connor will meet some pretty girl in another village and leave us in peace.” Levi smiled when he said it. Lydia did not smile back. “Oh, I see.” Levi brought his arms down and leaned onto Lydia’s desk. “That’s what is really bothering you: you want Connor to come back.”

  “Yes, I do.” Lydia looked at her brother. “Don’t you?”

  Levi snickered. “Not particularly. He has brought us nothing but trouble.” When Lydia was silent, Levi’s eyes widened. “I see. I know Father enjoys Connor’s company, and Bethany and her friends like to look at him, but I hadn’t realized you were forming an attachment to him as well.”

  Lydia waved a hand, dismissing the notion. “I am not forming an attachment to Connor.” She paused for a moment but could not grasp a rational thought. “I find him fascinating. That’s all.”

  “Of course you find him fascinating—he is from another land.” Levi looked relieved and put his hands back behind his head effusing nonchalance. “You are happiest when you are acquiring knowledge. Connor is from another place and speaks of things you have never known. There is much to learn from him, so it makes sense that you would find him fascinating.” Levi looked satisfied with his assessment. “That’s probably why Father spends so much time with him, too. Oh, you should hear them discuss theology. They can talk for hours.” Levi chuckled and looked at the door. “I should get back to work. I have to put the top on the wagon and clean the horse stalls before dinner. Father wants to discuss our journey this evening. Will you be joining us?”

  “Yes, so long as I don’t have a patient.” Lydia opened the drawer on the right side of her desk and placed her notes with her other patient charts. “I’ll prepare your provisions now—starting with medicine
.” She stepped to her cabinets and took out a few things as Levi rose and walked to the door. “I’ll send dried gray tree leaves with you and some bandaging in case you need it. And, Levi?”

  “Yes?”

  “I appreciate your insight. You helped clarify a matter that may have otherwise caused me confusion.” Lydia smiled when Levi simply nodded and walked outside.

  The more she thought about it, the more she felt Levi was right. Though Connor’s arrival had brought a great deal of tension and concern, it had also brought excitement and mystery. He knew about all kinds of things she had never imagined. Her mind had reeled with fascination since the moment he fell from the sky. It was logical that she had become captivated not by him, but by his knowledge. She had simply gotten caught up in it all, and the thrill was new and confusing. She was trained to assess a situation and determine a course of action, but nothing like Connor’s arrival had ever happened before, so it caught her off guard. Levi was right: she should let Connor do his job and she should focus on her work. Lydia breathed a sigh of relief and began to gather the supplies for Levi and Connor when there was a knock at the door.

  “Lydia?” John opened the door but did not come inside. He pressed his lips together and his blue eyes looked soft and sad in the way that made Lydia realize her father was about to deliver bad news.

  “Yes, Father? What is it?”

  “Doctor Ashton’s granddaughter is here from Woodland. Doctor Ashton has not been awake in two days. Mrs. Ashton believes his time has come. She asked if you would make sure he is comfortable.”

  “Yes, I… I will go now.”

  John waited by the door while Lydia processed the news. She had been at the deathbed of several people in her time as a physician. She could keep a professional demeanor and was always gentle and respectful to the family, but never emotional. It would be hard to see Doctor Ashton die and harder still to remain impassive. She wiped her hands on her skirt even though they were not dirty. Lydia picked up her medical bag and took a steadying breath before she walked out the door.