Chapter 4
Olivia
The man with the pale green eyes continued to stare at me.
I realized my hand was still on the handle. I quickly let go.
“I… was just looking around.”
I braced for a scolding. If he was anything like Donovan, I was sure he wouldn’t be too happy with the fact I was poking around.
The man’s brow furrowed. He tilted his head slightly, and the corner of his mouth curved.
“It’s locked for a reason,” he said.
I flushed. Why did this feel worse than a scolding?
“Right.”
The man drew closer. Despite myself, my heart began to race. I edged closer to the door. He raised his hand upward.
“Renovations,” he said. He pointed to the ceiling. “The house is old. We keep parts of it closed.”
“Ah.”
“Safer that way.”
“That’s a… very smart idea.”
What is wrong with me?
After Donovan, apparently I forgot how to talk.
“Caleb,” the man said next.
“What?”
“My name.” He grinned a little wider this time. “Caleb Ashwood. I’m Jake’s brother.”
My face heated.
“Oh, right,” I said. I straightened up and pushed myself away from the door. “Olivia Cruz. I’m Jake’s new nurse. Nice to meet the last Ashwood.”
I offered my hand.
Caleb looked at it. Just for a moment — just long enough for me to notice the smallest flinch move through him, there and gone before I could place it. He hesitantly reached for my hand.
The landline rang.
The sound split the hallway in two. Caleb’s hand dropped. He turned toward the phone mounted on the wall near the corridor entrance. His shoulders relaxed.
“Excuse me,” he said. He walked past me.
Once Caleb was at the end of the corridor, he looked back over his shoulder at me. “Try not to get lost.”
“I’ll try,” I said.
When Caleb was finally gone, my own shoulders relaxed.
Something in my chest tightened. I thought about his face, and then the one of the man in the woods.
It couldn’t be…
Taking a deep breath, I left the corridor and made my way back to my room.
The last thing I needed was to get in any more trouble.
I woke up the next morning sore in the shoulders and with a pit in my stomach that I could only attribute to last night.
I buried my face into my hands.
“It’s okay, Olivia,” I told myself. “You’ve embarrassed yourself before.”
At least, I tried to convince myself that was the problem.
If the man in the woods really was Caleb Ashwood, it would explain why no one in town witnessed anything.
That didn’t explain why he was at my cottage, but it was part of the puzzle.
I heard a knock on my door. I got up from bed and found Maureen in the doorway.
She regarded me with a polite expression while carrying a small tray with coffee.
“Morning, Miss Cruz,” she greeted. “I trust your first night was… adequate.”
“I slept fine,” I said.
Total lie.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Caleb mentioned he saw you up late.”
Maureen seemed to catch my embarrassment, and followed it up. “If it has anything to do with the cold or the beddings, we can make adjustments if needed.”
“I was up late because I wanted to,” I explained. “I was trying to familiarize myself with the layout, and Caleb saw me take a wrong turn.”
“I see,” she said. “Well, I’m glad to hear that your accommodations are suitable then. And I’m certain you’ll get used to the house eventually.”
Maureen then apologized as she had to go fetch Jake’s breakfast for him. “Breakfast is in the kitchen if you want any,” she said. “There’s a nice assortment of things, so do help yourself to it.”
I told Maureen I would.
I sat with my coffee for a minute. I reminded myself of one of my more pressing issues: Jake. I needed a way to better provide him care. For someone with a “documented hereditary condition,” his charts weren’t doing anything for me.
I needed a real medical history and I needed it from someone who would actually give it to me. Donovan made his position clear, so I wasn’t going to force that. However, Caleb was different.
Maybe he’d talk.
It was a longshot, but, as a nurse, it was my job to get the answers. I would just have to swallow the awkward encounter last night and be straightforward about it.
Work was easier.
I didn’t have to look far to find Caleb.
The moment I went down to the kitchen to return my mug, he was already there.
He stood at the counter with a mug and a folded newspaper, still in the dark henley he’d been wearing the night before, or one exactly like it.
He once again offered me a half-smile.
“Coffee?”
“I have some, thank you.” I held up my mug.
We stared at each other across the kitchen island for a moment that lasted slightly too long.
Oh boy.
“So.” I started.
“So,” he said.
I set my mug on the counter and decided honesty was my best bet at getting on his side. “I was snooping,” I said. “Last night, I mean.”
Caleb’s expression didn’t change. “I know,” he said.
“You know.”
“You’re thorough.” He took a sip of his coffee. “That helps.”
His response should have reassured me, but it didn’t.
“So you’re not mad,” I said.
Caleb nodded.
“While we’re on the subject of transparency,” he set his mug down, “yes, it was me at your cottage.”
“What?”
“I’m sure you remember,” Caleb said casually. “It wasn’t… controlled.”
I wanted to say something. I had a million questions, but nothing came out.
Caleb continued, his gaze steady on mine as if waiting for me to catch up.
“It’s not just Jake with a hereditary condition,” he explained. “I lose time. I get disoriented. Feverish.”
He looked at my wrists.
“Reactive.”
I tightened my grip on my coffee.
“It can look worse than this.”
It was almost word for word what I’d half-theorized. But something was off.
It was too smooth. The hedging was calibrated. I’d worked with enough people who were managing a story to know the difference between someone searching for words and someone who had already found them.
“I appreciate you telling me,” I said carefully.
Caleb turned another page. He shot a brief glance at me. “I hope it clears the air,” he said. “You don’t need to avoid me.”
“Jake,” I remembered.
Caleb waited.
“There’s got to be a better medical history than the one you guys gave me. Who else had it? Is there a documented family history? Has Jake been seen by a specialist, or has the family always managed it in-house?”
Caleb set down his newspaper.
“It runs in the family,” Caleb said. “From my father’s side.”
I’m surprised he gave in that easily.
“As for specialists,” he continued. “We had someone, but he’s gone. And yes, it was always managed in-house. We keep it contained.”
He paused.
“The town doesn’t need to know.”
Given the superstitions floating around The Blackwater Tap, I didn’t blame him.
“It starts young,” Caleb added. “When one reaches adulthood, it becomes more… manageable. Not before it gets worse. That’s why you’re here.”
I nodded, making sure to mentally note everything Caleb was telling me.
“And by manageable,” I said. “You mean…”
“Randomly appearing in the nude at stranger’s houses, yes.” Another sip of coffee.
“Amusing.”
Unlike his explanation about the cottage earlier, I could tell he was at least being partially honest.
“That’s what I can give you,” he said.
“It’s a start.”
“Caleb?” Donovan’s voice came somewhere down the hallway.
Caleb stepped back from the counter. He came around the island toward the doorway, and I was standing close enough to it that for a moment we were only inches apart. The warmth of him reached me before I processed the proximity.
His hand lifted. “Welcome to the estate, Olivia.”
He left. I stood in the kitchen alone and tried to steady my breathing. I told myself it was the coffee.
Taking care of Jake remained the easiest part of the day.
I spent the bulk of the morning with him — vitals, a longer intake assessment, a review of everything he could tell me about his symptoms from his own perspective rather than the clipped chart notes I’d been given.
He was an excellent patient: chatty, capable of holding still when I needed him to, and always trying his best to lighten the mood.
He made me laugh twice before noon. Once about the estate’s WiFi, which he described as “consistently aspirational.” Once about a houseplant in the corner of his room that he’d named Gerald and was, apparently, in an ongoing dispute with about sunlight.
“I didn’t realize having company could make pain way more manageable,” Jake mused. “Or perhaps you’re secretly a witch that conjures healing spells.”
“I don’t have the patience to carry a cauldron,” I told him. He chuckled.
When Maureen brought his lunch, she insisted I stay. The three of us chatted while enjoying a hearty lunch consisting of grilled salmon, chowder, and light seasonal salad.
All the challenges aside, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.
Later, Maureen excused herself to the kitchen. When her footsteps faded, I noticed the easy warmth in Jake’s expression dim.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“For what?”
He turned his spoon over in his hand, eyes on the table. “About this whole situation. It’s making things harder for you than it should be.”
“You’re my patient,” I said. “You don’t owe me anything.”
He smiled at that. Weaker than his earlier ones.
I decided not to push him about it. Instead, I reached over to refill his water.
“Now,” I said. “What’s this about Donovan and a failing generator?”
That immediately lifted his mood again.
We talked for the rest of lunch. A sliver of levity for both our circumstances.
After wrapping things up with Jake, I made my way down the hallway, and readied to make notes in his chart.
“What choice did I have?”
“Would you rather she wasn’t here?”
I paused in the middle of the corridor.
The harsh whisper came from further down.
I slowed down and drew closer. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was pretty sure they were talking about me.
Peering around the corner, I saw Caleb and Donovan in the corner of a room. Donovan stood rigid, arms crossed tight across his chest. Caleb's hand rested on the back of a chair, his knuckles white.