The Uncharted Series Omnibus

by Keely Brooke Keith

  “Father will do it for you.”

  “No, I don’t think he will.” She took a small jar of gray leaf salve from the cabinet and returned to the cot. Then she covered his stitched palm with a thick layer of the ointment and began to wrap his hand in a clean gauzy bandage. “Father has granted you the freedom you desired and the land to build your own house. Perhaps he took longer to come to that decision than your patience afforded. Regardless, he has yet to present the hostility you seem to expect from him.”

  From where he sat on the patient cot, Levi could see out the front window of Lydia’s office. Between the thin curtains he had a clear view of the back door to the home he was born in. The imposing structure cast a shadow over her cottage, just as it had over his life. “Things may have changed some because of Connor’s arrival, but I don’t feel this great sense of acceptance from Father like you do.”

  Lydia finished bandaging his hand and he examined it. The gray leaf medicine kept it numb. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She piled the bloody rags in a ceramic bowl and lifted a corner of his once-beige shirt, which was now drenched in red. “I believe this is ruined.” She released the garment and wiped her hands, then pointed at his arm. “Move your fingers.”

  He wiggled his fingertips under the gauzy material to demonstrate their dexterity. “Much better.” He stood to leave, believing the ordeal was over.

  “You haven’t been released from my care.” She lifted an eyebrow and smiled as she stepped to her desk. “Lie back for a few minutes. I’ll tell you when you can go, but you won’t be returning to work today. Your injury will heal quickly and completely, but you must rest.”

  The medicine left him lightheaded—or perhaps it was the loss of blood—but he would never confess it. He sighed and obeyed the doctor, even though she was his sister. Stretching his legs out on the cot, he laid his bandaged hand across his bare chest. No matter how he tried to center his thoughts on his building plans—even the pleasure of being sated by the smell of freshly hewn lumber—his mind continually returned to the fantasy of one day sharing his house with Mandy.

  Someone tapped on the cottage door, filling him with the dread of being seen injured by his father. The door opened a crack, but he could not see who it was from his position on the patient cot. It frustrated him because he was the one who hinged the door in that direction when he helped his father build the cottage for Lydia. Of course when he hung the door, he never imagined someday he would be the patient on the cot with the obscured view. Then he heard Bethany’s voice.

  Lydia stayed seated at her desk and motioned with the pen in her hand as she spoke to their youngest sister. “I have a patient at the moment, Bethany. What do you need?”

  Though grateful for Lydia’s discretion, Levi decided it would be better to let Bethany see him and know he was fine than let her hear about his injury later and worry about him. He propped himself up on his elbows. “I’m fine, Lydia. Let her come in.”

  “Levi?” Bethany craned her head around the door. As soon as her eyes landed on his bandaged arm she gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. She rushed to the patient cot and knelt on the wood floor. “Oh, Levi! What happened to you? Are you all right?”

  “I just needed a couple stitches. I’m fine, Beth.”

  “Where is your shirt?”

  He pointed to the pile of blood-drenched rags on the countertop. Bethany looked at it then squealed and fanned herself with frantic motions. “Oh, Levi!”

  He chuckled at her dramatic gestures. “I’m fine, really. Lydia stitched me up. It turns out she can sew more than curtains.”

  Lydia chortled and continued writing at her desk.

  Bethany wrinkled her nose. “How did this happen?”

  “It was nothing, really.” Levi lay back on the cot and studied Bethany. She wore a dress she usually reserved for Sundays, and her hair was down except for a section on one side that was pinned back to reveal her ear. She put her hand on his arm, and he noticed the silver charm bracelet at her wrist. “You aren’t dressed for working at the pottery yard. Where are you off to today?”

  Bethany’s face relaxed and she smiled at him. “Mrs. Vestal is firing the kiln, so she gave me the day off. I’m going to Phoebe’s. Her mother is making pastries and we are taking some when we call on Mrs. Ashton. Then we’re going to visit the Owenses in the afternoon.” Her sincere smile reached her eyes and kept the blue sparkling while she looked at him, but her smile vanished and her brow furrowed each time she glanced at his bandaged hand. She freely exposed her emotions, probably because she never had cause to conceal them.

  “You’ll make Mrs. Ashton and the Owenses happy.” He patted the top of her hand. “You should get going.”

  “Will you be all right? I can stay if you need me.”

  He smiled at his sweet sister—not yet seventeen and worried over him. “I’m fine, Beth, really.”

  She stood and held up a finger. “Oh, and Mrs. Vestal asked if you could build another set of shelves in the shed at the pottery yard. She says she needs more storage space because I produce more pieces in a week than any of her past apprentices made in a month.”

  “He will not be building any shelves today,” Lydia chimed from her desk.

  Levi glanced at Lydia then looked up at Bethany. “I have already spoken with Mrs. Vestal. She knows I will resume work around the village after I have finished the house.”

  “And he is not working on that today either,” Lydia added.

  Bethany made a face at their sister’s comment, but Lydia did not look up from her notes in time to see it. Levi winked at Bethany. She bent and kissed his cheek then marched to the door.

  * * *

  Though Mandy spent the morning taking Levi to get stitches, her creative energy returned as soon as she got back to her workshop, and it remained strong throughout the day. As the light outside her window faded, she set her chisel on the workbench and used both hands to wrap her auburn curls in a tight swirl behind her head. She jabbed a piece of sharpened dowel rod through the middle of the bun to hold her hair in place, but she knew the rebellious curls would defect one sweaty spring at a time. Returning her attention to her work, she gently blew away the fine wood shavings sprinkled across what was now the scroll of a violin. She lifted an unfinished instrument body from the shelf above her workbench and tapped lightly in several places, checking the tone and clarity of the gray leaf wood. Pleased with the balance of the pure rich sound, she dipped a thin brush into a well of animal glue and began the process of binding the saddle to the sun-dried body of the violin. After clamping the glued pieces together to dry overnight, she removed her apron and shook the wood dust from the sleeves of her dress.

  Entranced by hours alone in her workshop in the loft of her family’s barn, she jumped when her father appeared in the doorway. She covered her heart with her hand. “You startled me.”

  “Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to.” Samuel Foster’s ruddy cheeks rounded as he spoke. “I’m hunting for my pliers. Have you seen them?”

  She shook her head as she draped her apron over a peg on the wall near her workbench and then motioned to the cluttered shelves by the door. “They’re probably in that mess.”

  While he rifled through the shelves of heaped tools, she stepped to the open window and fanned the cool evening air into the collar of her dress. She looked down across the expansive green pasture that stretched to the fading horizon. As the last light of the summer sun disappeared for the day, a lonely ache began to set in. Thinking of her brother’s search for the lost lambs, she turned to her father. “Did Everett find his sheep?”

  Samuel was balancing on his tiptoes as he inspected an upper shelf. He did not respond, so she tried again. “Father?”

  “Hm?” He stopped shuffling tools and exhaled, causing his cheeks to puff under his pure white beard. “Everett? Oh, the poor lad searched all day. He’s quite torn up over the missing lambs. Rightly so—it’s terribly peculiar. Fifty-
six years on this farm and I’ve yet to lose a sheep. He has lost two in less than a week.”

  She too felt sorry for her brother—though Everett was no longer a lad. “Is he still out searching?” She walked to the messy shelf, reached straight for the pliers, and held them out to Samuel. When he lowered from his tiptoes they stood eye to eye.

  “No, I sent him inside for the night. Your mother is getting dinner ready.” He took the pliers and patted them on the thick palm of his hand. Then he pointed at the unfinished instrument on Mandy’s workbench. “Are you still working, or will you be joining us for dinner this evening?”

  She glanced at the violin she had spent the day carving. She wanted to keep working late into the night while her energy was high, but felt she should go to Everett. She stepped away from the workbench. “I’ll be right in.”

  He nodded, and she expected him to leave. Instead, he raised his wooly eyebrows and stepped farther into the spacious workshop. “I haven’t been up here in a while. My knees aren’t fond of climbing the steps to the loft.” He rubbed the bald spot on top of his head and smiled at her. “When you were little, you would sit up here for hours watching your grandfather. He must have repaired your old violin a dozen times before the two of you decided to try to build a new one. He would be proud to know that you have made a profession out of his hobby.” He walked over to a recently completed violin and chuckled as he ran a finger over the varnished inlay. “Can you imagine what he would think if he heard one of your instruments made of the gray leaf wood?”

  She smiled and pulled the dowel rod out of her hair, sending curls down her back. “I think about that often while I work. Grandfather’s willow and maple violins were fine instruments, but there is no sound comparable to gray leaf wood.”

  “So true, so true.” He grinned as he spoke. Moving away from the row of unfinished instruments, he thumped the pliers against his thigh. He stepped to the door, then he turned back and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. But he only closed it again and nodded as he glanced around the workshop.

  She nodded too. “Please, tell Mother I will be right there.”

  “Very well,” he said as he walked out the door.

  Before Mandy left her workshop, she tossed the dowel onto her bench and took one last look out the window. The sky was a deep shade of lavender with a few wisps of shadowy black cloud. The summertime dusk stoked the song of crickets and an unsettling discontent she tried her best to ignore. The only certain—yet temporary—antidote for her recurring evening doldrums came in the form of intrigue, but the farther she advanced from the age where flirtation was considered acceptable in the village, the more her chances of a cure waned.

  She looked away from the darkening sky and sighed. She tried not to focus on the old and frequent feeling, but the company of her loving family was a sure exacerbation. When intrigue was not possible, the only way to get through that first bleak hour after dusk was to go for a walk alone. The settling darkness and the freedom of being alone on the road always soothed her spirit. She longed to walk the road into the village, but tonight Everett needed her, so solitude was not an option. She propped the workshop door open to allow the evening air to circulate throughout the loft, and as she walked away, she glanced back into the darkening room. The hollow feeling inside her chest grew, causing her to wonder what purpose such emptiness could serve.

  As she walked through the loft, she looked over the railing to the expansive barn floor below. With the flock out to pasture for the summer, the barn was quiet save for the occasional sound of the horses in their stalls on the other end of the massive building. The barn’s wide doors had been rolled closed for the day, so she descended the steps and walked out the side door toward the house.

  The air was warm, but it felt good to be outdoors after a long day in her workshop. The oval moon was beginning to spill its bluish light on the yard and the vegetable garden and the back porch of her family’s home. Everett was standing on the porch with his hands planted on the railing and his head down. Mandy climbed the steps and stood beside him. She waited for a moment, then she leaned her hands on the railing also. “I’m sorry about your lambs.”

  Everett turned his head a degree and glanced at her before looking off into the distance. He gave no vocal response, nor did she expect him to. She stared at the black blur of nighttime horizon. “Are the dogs with the flock?”

  “Of course.”

  She glanced back at the oldest of their four herding dogs lying on the mat by the back door. “Except Shep. He’s lucky if he can make it from the front porch to the back any more.” She looked at Everett, but he did not acknowledge her remark. She dropped her gaze to the railing and traced the wood grain in the gray leaf board with her fingertip. “Do you think some kind of animal took the lambs?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know… a bear or a lion?” She grinned. “Like the ones David fought in the Bible.”

  “We don’t have predatory animals in the Land.”

  Roseanna Foster tapped on the glass of the back door. Mandy glanced over her shoulder at her mother and raised a finger. Roseanna nodded and stepped away from the window.

  Mandy looked back at Everett. “Levi tried to raise the wall frames by himself this morning.”

  “Tried? Wasn’t he successful?”

  She shook her head. “Only with the first two frames. A rope nearly ripped his hand off when he tried to raise the third wall. I had to take him to Lydia for stitches.”

  “I forgot all about helping him.” Everett looked at her, and his brow creased in the center. “Was he angry with me?”

  “When I went to tell him you weren’t coming, I found him writhing in pain and angry with himself on top of his usual petulance, so who can tell?”

  Everett returned his gaze to the western pastures. “That’s not a very respectful attitude.”

  “You’re right. I should show him some pity, shouldn’t I?”

  “No. He doesn’t want your pity.”

  “Oh, I know what he wants from me,” she laughed.

  “No.” Everett pushed away from the railing and stepped to the door. “He wants your respect.”

  She had never considered respecting Levi. He was her best friend’s brother and one of the many men who had once been intrigued with her—a combination that hardly warranted respect in her estimation. She did not agree with Everett, but after a moment’s rumination, she said, “I know he does.”

  Mandy gave Shep a pat on the head as she walked across the porch. Everett held the door open for her and she stepped into the kitchen to spend the evening having dinner with her family, wishing she had stayed in her workshop.

  Chapter Two

  Levi piled fresh hay into the feeders in each barn stall and hoped he could make the chore last until dinnertime. He stopped and leaned the pitchfork against the splintered wall, then he stretched the palm of his hand wide to relieve the lingering stiffness from his injury. As he reached for the pitchfork, Connor stepped into the barn and motioned to the feeders. “I was on my way to do that, but I guess you beat me to it.”

  Levi looked at Connor’s dress clothes and raised an eyebrow. “Tell the truth: Lydia and Bethany ran you out of the kitchen. When will you learn to stay away from that room when the women are preparing for a party?”

  Connor grinned and shrugged. “I asked Lydia if I could help with anything and she sent me to the barn.”

  “Wait until Adeline and Maggie get here. Then even my father will be wandering around the yard looking for chores.”

  “That bad, huh?” Connor grimaced. “I told Lydia not to go to all this trouble for me, but she said I’ll only turn thirty once.”

  “She finds a reason to summon our eldest sisters here from Woodland every few months.” Levi walked out of the barn but left the doors open. “As long as I’m not the reason for the attention, it’s fine with me. It gives me a chance to see my niece and nephews.”

  Connor walked b
eside him toward the house. “Hopefully, you’ll have another niece or nephew soon… I mean… nothing yet, but we are sure trying.”

  Levi groaned at the thought. “I know Lydia is your wife, but she is also my sister. So I’d rather you keep your efforts to yourself.”

  Connor laughed then glanced at the road when a wagon turned onto the property. Levi lifted a hand and waved as the wagon approached. His brother-in-law drove and Maggie sat on the bench seat with her two-year-old son on her lap. She struggled to subdue little Seth’s excited bounces as the wagon rattled to a stop.

  Levi met the wagon beside the house and reached for his youngest nephew. A piercing squeal of laughter escaped Seth’s throat and echoed off the house as Levi swung the toddler overhead in a playful circle. Maggie greeted him then fussed over Seth’s rumpled clothing. After accepting a slobbery kiss from the giddy toddler, he returned Seth to his anxious mother.

  An open carriage drove onto the property. Though Levi did not recognize the unusual carriage, he watched as his eldest sister, Adeline, her husband and two young children smiled and waved. When the carriage stopped behind Maggie’s wagon, Levi opened its door and his niece and nephew vaulted to the ground.

  “Uncle Levi! Uncle Levi!” The two children furled their arms around him while they simultaneously blared rapid, unrelated tales, competing to capture his attention.

  “Gabe! Hannah!” he beamed.

  Flanked by the children, he offered his hand to his sister. Adeline took it and stepped down from the carriage. “I waited until yesterday morning to tell the children we were coming here. They prattled nonstop about their Uncle Levi the entire journey.” She halted in front of Levi and put her hands on either side of his face. “I may never get used to seeing my little brother all grown up.”

  Adeline resembled their mother to such a striking degree it pained him to look her in the eye for long. He kissed Adeline’s cheek. “It’s good to see you, Addie.”