The Uncharted Series Omnibus

by Keely Brooke Keith

  Bethany sniffed. “Only a little.” She dragged a knuckle under her eye to wipe her tears. “Can’t Lydia just give him tea from the gray leaf tree? That will help him, right?”

  “It’s not him I’m worried about.” Connor’s nostrils flared as he stepped back. He turned his face toward the house. “Lydia can’t come inside this cottage. And Bethany, you can’t leave.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been exposed to a deadly bacteria. You’re probably already infected. If you leave this cottage, you will spread it to others.”

  “I don’t understand. Something deadly is in me?” Her heart began to pound inside her chest. “What does that mean? Connor, what is going on?”

  “Lydia is coming. Just go upstairs.”

  “Connor—”

  “Go!”

  Bethany’s breath caught between sobs as she stomped up the stairs to Lydia’s old bedroom. When she heard Connor open the cottage door and speak to Lydia, she stopped and sat on the steps to listen. She wrapped her arms around her knees and tried to suppress her crying so she could hear what Connor was saying.

  The afternoon sun flooded through the crack in the door as Connor spoke to Lydia outside. Bethany could see a sliver of Lydia’s figure. She was holding Andrew in one arm and pressed the other palm against her abdomen. Bethany heard the tension in Connor’s voice as he explained the situation. Lydia murmured a worried response. Andrew started to cry and Bethany wondered if the baby felt his parent’s angst. She wanted to run down the stairs and comfort Andrew and tell him everything would be fine, but Connor said she had something deadly in her—whatever that meant—and she did not want to expose the baby.

  Connor opened the door a little wider but postured himself at the threshold. Bethany looked past him and saw Lydia’s face. When Lydia’s eyes met hers, she started to cry.

  “Bethany?” Connor raised his voice. “Did you hear me?”

  Bethany shook her head, unable to utter a word through her sobs.

  “I’m going to get the dinghy off the beach so no one touches it. Lydia is going to make gray leaf tea for Mercer, then she’s going to the library to see what she can find out about treating consumption from the founders’ journals. Do not come down those stairs, you understand me?”

  Bethany nodded. Connor turned to the patient cot and pointed sharply in Justin’s direction. “My wife is making gray leaf tea for you. It’s the only medicine here. When it’s ready, she will knock on the door and leave it on the doorstep. Drink it all and get back to that cot to lie down before it kicks in. The gray leaf is powerful and like nothing you’ve ever had. Whatever you do, Lieutenant Mercer, don’t leave this cottage. Got it?”

  Bethany could not see Justin from where she sat on the top step, but she heard him chuckle. “Yeah, is that an order Lieutenant Bradshaw?”

  Connor ignored Justin’s remark and looked up at Bethany. His voice softened. “Beth, Lydia needs to tell you something before you go in the room.”

  Lydia drew her lips into her mouth and nodded. She shifted Andrew in her arms and patted his back to calm him. Then she tilted her head up toward Bethany. “Samuel died.”

  Bethany’s thoughts turned from fear for herself to grief over Samuel. Struck by the loss of a man who was like a second father to her and the depth of pain she knew was suffocating Everett and Mandy and Roseanna, she rushed into Lydia’s old bedroom and threw herself on the bed, weeping.

  * * *

  Bethany stared out the upstairs window of the medical cottage. Her unfocused vision blurred the image of the gray leaf trees’ black silhouettes against the western sky’s fading lavender light. Her arms—twined through the decorative iron headboard on Lydia’s old bed—began to tingle from being in one position for so long. Her tears had dried, but she doubted she would ever smile again. When Connor tapped on the frame of the open bedroom door, Bethany lifted her cheek from the cool metal of the headboard and peeled her gaze away from the lonely view of the western sky.

  “Hungry?” he asked, holding a covered dinner plate.

  Bethany shook her head, then she turned her face back to the window. Connor set the plate on the bedside table and the mattress lowered as he sat beside her. “Look, Beth, I’m sorry you can’t go to the funeral tomorrow. I know how much Samuel meant to you, but it’s too dangerous for the village. You don’t want to get people sick.”

  “What did Lydia find out from the medical journals?” Her dry throat burned when she spoke.

  “You and Mercer have to stay quarantined for a few days—”

  “A few days?” She snapped her face toward Connor. “Why so long?”

  “We don’t have the technology here to test you for infection. All we can do is watch for symptoms. We won’t know if the gray leaf will kill this type of bacteria until we see how Mercer’s body responds to the tea.”

  “Will you get sick?”

  “No, I was vaccinated against this disease as a child. There was an outbreak where I lived, and the doctors gave me medicine that helped my body build immunity to the disease. But you and your family and everyone else in the Land could get just as sick as Mercer. That’s why we have to be careful.”

  Bethany did not understand. “I just want it to go away. Is Justin feeling better?”

  “He’s still asleep. I can’t tell yet if the gray leaf is helping. Lydia has been relaying medical orders to me through the door, but I’m not as good at this as she is. I guess we’ll know more when he wakes up.” Connor put his palm on Bethany’s back. His hand was wide and warm. “Are you going to be okay up here by yourself?”

  Bethany did not respond but only studied Connor. His brow was furrowed, his eyes held concern, and his voice sounded low and worn. He was worried about her, but she was not worried about herself any more. She only wanted to be there for Everett when his father was buried, but instead an invisible threat imprisoned her in the unused bedroom of the medical cottage. She stared out the window. The night’s first star appeared in the sky; the tears in her eyes turned its prick of light into a ribbon.

  Connor gave her back a soft pat, then he stood. He walked away from the bed in the darkening room. His footsteps stopped at the door. “Lydia is getting your clothes and the sketchbooks you asked for. I’ll go out and light the log beneath the rain tank so you have warm water to bathe. I know you’re upset, but you really should eat.”

  She glanced at Connor. Her lingering childish nature told her to resent the man who was forcing her to remain locked away, but she sensed his compassion for her and ignored her desire to pout. “Thank you, Connor.”

  He nodded once and left the room. She heard him descend the stairs and leave the cottage. A few minutes later, he returned with a stack of clothes, her favorite pillow, and a satchel. Her sketchbook and pencil box were tucked under his elbow. “Hey, it’s kind of like you get to have your own place for a few days,” he joked.

  Bethany was not in the mood to laugh. Connor deposited her belongings onto the bed and stepped back. He glanced at the untouched plate of food on the bedside table but did not say anything about it. He walked to the doorway of the washroom opposite the bed and leaned his head in. “The water should be warm soon, if you want to take a bath. I think Lydia packed everything you’ll need in that bag. I’m going downstairs, but I’ll check on you before bed. Okay?”

  Bethany nodded and Connor pulled the bedroom door closed as he left. She scooped the clothes into her arms, carried them to the narrow dresser that stood against the wall, and shoved them into an empty drawer. Then she opened the satchel and dumped its contents onto the mattress. Her pocket-sized Bible fell onto the stack that poured from the bag. Then out dropped a thick piece of folded gray leaf paper. Bethany unfolded the paper and found the silver charm bracelet Levi had given her years before. In her brother’s hurried script, the note read: Dear Beth, I am sorry I was not there to protect you. Levi.

  Bethany looped the bracelet around her wrist and fastened its clasp. She watche
d the silver links catch the lantern light as she gathered the things she needed and carried the lantern into the washroom.

  * * *

  The muscles in Everett’s back ached from a long evening of farm chores. He propped his pitchfork against the barn door, then he led his father’s favorite horse into a freshly cleaned stall. He stroked a hand across the horse’s shoulder. It was not his father’s horse any more. Samuel was dead and would be buried in the morning. The mare was Everett’s now. He loved the horse but loathed the thought of owning it because that meant he had lost his father. Though he always knew he would one day inherit the family farm, he never imagined it would happen when he was only twenty.

  Everett left the mare and carried his lantern into the next stall to check on its colt. Though the five-month-old colt had been weaned, it tried to push past him to get to the mare. As he held the colt back and closed the stall gate, someone entered the barn.

  “Everett?”

  “In here,” he called as he leaned out the stall and saw Levi walking into the darkened barn. “Did you and John get everything… done?”

  “Yes. The gravesite is ready.” Levi skirted the stall gate and held a hand out to the colt.

  “I wanted to help, but you and John were right: my mother needed me here.” Everett lifted the lantern and hung it on a hook in the middle of the barn stall. He glanced at Levi and saw the dirt stains on his clothes from digging the grave. “Has Mandy gone home, or is she still in the house with my mother?”

  “She is still here.” Levi crossed his arms. “Listen, Everett… something has happened.”

  Everett took a currycomb from a shelf on the wall and began to brush the colt. “Besides my father’s death?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it?”

  Levi drew a deep breath. “The man who was in Connor’s aircraft with him is here in Good Springs. Apparently, the Land is undetectable to the outside world, but this man saw it after they were ejected from the aircraft. No one believed him about seeing land, but he spent the past three years trying to get back here and he finally made it.”

  Everett stopped brushing the colt. “Did he come here alone?”

  “There are four men still on his ship, but they can’t see the Land. He came to the shore alone.”

  Everett nodded. “What’s his name?”

  “Mercer. Justin Mercer.”

  “It sounds like this Mercer has perseverance. Is Connor happy about it?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Levi shoved his hands into his pockets. “Mercer is sick.”

  “Oh. That’s too bad.”

  “The disease Mercer has is contagious. He says a lot of people in the outside world are sick right now. But that’s not the worst of it.”

  Everett pulled a clump of hair out of the horse brush then looked at Levi. “Is it deadly?”

  “Yes, and Bethany might be infected.”

  “What?” The news hit Everett in the gut like a fast kick. Anger deluged his system and swelled his grief-stricken heart. He spun on his heel and threw the wood-handled brush against the barn wall. The forceful clap sent the colt scurrying to the back of the stall.

  Levi did not flinch. “Beth was the first person to see Mercer. He has a bad cough, and she spent the afternoon with him in the medical office,” he explained. “Connor said they had been in there together for a couple of hours by the time he got there. Connor can’t catch the disease because he had some medicine that made him immune to it when he was a child, but Bethany probably breathed it in while she was with Mercer. No one else has been exposed.”

  Everett’s father was dead and the woman he loved was possibly infected with a deadly disease. Overwhelmed, he bent at the waist and leaned his hands on his knees. “Where is she now?”

  “Upstairs of the medical cottage.”

  “I have to go to her.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Lydia has them quarantined. Bethany and Mercer have to stay inside the cottage and only Connor can go in. Otherwise, the whole village could become infected.”

  Everett’s eyes stung. He did not bother fighting back his angry tears. “For how long?” Levi did not answer. Everett raised his body and doubled his volume. “For how long?”

  Levi spoke through barely parted lips. “Until it’s over for them.”

  Chapter Five

  Bethany gripped the edge of the tub as she lowered herself into the warm water. Her silver charm bracelet clinked when it touched the porcelain of the bathtub. Resting her head against the papered wall behind the tub, she glanced around the washroom and remembered how envious she had been when her father and Levi built the pretty cottage for Lydia. With the medical office downstairs and Lydia’s private room upstairs, the purpose of the cottage was for Lydia to be available when anyone in the village needed care, but Bethany had wished they would build a cottage for her too. And when Connor arrived and fell in love with Lydia, Bethany thought life unjust. She remembered how—at only fifteen—she thought Connor was the most perfect man she had ever encountered. While Lydia took her time considering the possibility of sharing her life with Connor, Bethany had burned with envy, desperate to be loved by such a brave and courteous man. Now Lydia was happily married to Connor, and Bethany had grown out of her jealousy. Instead of dreaming of Connor, she now watched the love between him and Lydia and dreamed of finding a love like theirs someday.

  As Bethany began to fantasize about being loved, she thought of Justin. The charming and mysterious outsider was downstairs, asleep and ill. He had said he liked the sound of her voice. Though she had only just met him, she liked him too. She hummed as she recalled the feeling of his chest beneath her hand. A wave of dizziness swayed her vision. She blinked and the strong and strange sensation went away. Maybe such a powerful physical reaction to a thought about a person had some deep and instructive meaning. Before she could delve into the notion, the dizziness returned. It was not a swoon of emotion, but a warning from her body. Sitting up, she reached for a rag to dab her face. As the soft cloth absorbed drips from her forehead, more ran down. She had not yet wet her hair and the tub water was not hot enough to produce steam. Bethany glanced to the ceiling, wondering why her head was so wet. As she lifted her chin, the dizziness returned with full force. Her ears began to ring and her heart pounded with hard, irregular thumps.

  Bethany pulled the plug and clung to the side of the tub as the water swirled down the drain. She began to shiver even though she was not cold. Clenching her eyes shut, she reached her fingers to the floor outside the tub and found her towel. Her teeth began to chatter as she clambered out. She knelt on the floor and willed her shaky fingers to open her nightgown and pull it over her head.

  Overcome with dizziness, she curled her legs beneath her body and buried her spinning head in the damp towel. Maybe she had caught the deadly illness. Panic set in. Her throat tightened and her breath came in painful, shallow spurts. She lifted herself to her knees and crawled across the painted wood floor to the washroom door. Her vision blurred as she looked up at the glass knob on the door, so she closed her eyes and turned it.

  The dark bedroom felt eerily empty. Her head began to throb as she glanced back into the bathroom where the lantern’s warm light glowed from the shelf above the sink. The lantern was out of reach and she did not trust her shaking legs enough to stand. As she crawled into the darkened bedroom, streams of the lantern’s orange light trailed through her blurred vision. She squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her aching head to the floor. Through the piercing that rang in her ears, she thought she heard Connor downstairs. She coiled her fist and pounded it against the floorboards, desperate for help. Every knock she produced sent jarring pain through her body.

  The door opened. Connor’s voice came from above her. She could not see him. He was close, but the sound of his voice was faint like an echo in the distance. “Beth? Are you all right? What happened?”

&nb
sp; As she lifted her head from the floor, sweat dripped into her eyes. Connor’s hands pressed on her shoulders and she tried to answer, but her mouth would not move. Her eyes felt detached from her body and refused to focus on anything.

  “Bethany? Oh no, you caught it! Can you hear me?” He scooped her from the floor. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay. Can you hear me?” He kept talking and she wanted to hear his words just to know he was there, but every sound felt like a dagger jabbing into her already aching brain.

  Connor laid her on the bed and put his hand on her forehead. “You’re burning up. It’s not supposed to happen this fast. I’ve got to tell Lydia. She’ll know what to do. I’ll be right back. Bethany? I’ll be right back, okay?”

  She tried to respond, but her breath stung her constricted throat. Connor left the room. She did not want to be alone. Her lungs felt like they were filled with fire. She rubbed her quivering fingers across the bedsheet and they dampened with the moisture that leaked from her sweating body. Then a hand was beneath her head, lifting her onto the pillow. She heard a voice, deep and muffled, and tried to focus on it.

  “Bethany, you have to drink this.”

  The pungent aroma of steeped gray leaf wafted across her face. Her stomach churned. “No.”

  “Drink it, Bethany. Mercer is awake and he feels better. We think the gray leaf will heal this disease, but you have to drink the tea.”

  She could hear Connor and wanted healing, but her tongue felt swollen inside her dry mouth. She could not will her mouth to move but was able to open her eyes. Lantern light glowed from the bedside table. It illuminated Connor’s worried face and the porcelain cup he held close to her lips. Then everything went black.

  “You have to drink this.” He pressed the cup to her lips. “Just swallow.”

  She let the cup part her lips and the hot tea poured over her tongue. The tea tasted bitter, but not as unpleasant as she had always imagined it would be. She swallowed and the heat of the tea passed through her throat and into her stomach. After another sip she stopped and caught her breath. “I want my father.”