I drop her hand and whip around, my Switch ready. Oliver stands on our back porch with the sternest expression he can manage aimed straight at me.
Rachel steps back and bends to pick up her weapon. I find I’m suddenly very interested in the exact position of the sun, and I take a moment to study the sky. When I look back at Oliver, his brow is raised.
“Going to invite an old man in? Or going to stand there pretending I didn’t just see—”
“We were sparring.” Rachel hefts her Switch to prove it.
“That’s not what we called it in my day,” Oliver says, and motions for us to come inside the house with him.
I can’t look at Rachel as we walk inside. The room feels charged with awkwardness, and I have absolutely no idea how to defuse it without just addressing my sudden, inexplicable attraction to her head on. Which I might do, if I could explain it. And if Oliver wasn’t in the room.
He claps me on the shoulder and uses his other arm to drag Rachel to his side. “It’s nice to see the two of you putting aside your differences and discovering how much you really have in common. Rachel, would you mind getting me some water?”
As Rachel hurries toward the kitchen, Oliver looks me in the eye. “You’re a good man, Logan McEntire. You’re the son I never had. I know I can trust you with her.”
The weight of his trust lands heavily on top of the trust already placed in me by Jared. “It won’t happen again,” I say, though I don’t know if I mean it.
He grins. “Oh, I wouldn’t go making promises you might not be able to keep. Just see that if you do decide she’s the one for you, you handle it properly.”
The one for me? I stare at Rachel as Oliver leaves my side and enters the kitchen, settling his bulk at my cluttered table. It was just an impulse. She’s beautiful and strong in a way I appreciate. Of course I find her attractive. It doesn’t mean I’m ready to Claim her. Or anyone else, for that matter.
Feeling unaccountably irritated by Oliver’s assumption, I follow him into the kitchen. Rachel settles on the floor, leaning against Oliver’s legs as he takes out a towel-wrapped bundle of sticky buns and hands it to her. I take the other chair. Time to set aside the baffling subject of my feelings for Rachel and concentrate on something far more straightforward: my plan to get Oliver out of Baalboden with us.
Before I can speak, though, Oliver says, “You two may be right. I think Jared’s still alive.”
“What?” I lean forward as Rachel’s eyes meet mine, full of shock and eager anticipation.
“Why do you think that?” she asks, setting the sticky buns on the table.
“I talked with some folks who were out trading with that band of highwaymen that got themselves killed by the Cursed One the other day. Word among the city-states is that your father is the most wanted man in the Wasteland.”
“Wanted for what?” I ask.
“For thievery and treason against the ruler of Rowansmark.”
Rachel sits up straight. “That’s a dirty lie! He never stole anything, and he wouldn’t commit treason, either.”
Oliver gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I know that. Everyone who knows him knows that.”
“He didn’t steal that package from Rowansmark. Someone gave it to him,” she says.
“I’m guessing whoever gave him that package is the one who committed treason,” I say. “It’s possible the Commander managed to bribe or coerce a citizen of Rowansmark into stealing it for him, intending to use Jared as the delivery person.”
“Except Dad got suspicious, figured out what was inside—”
“And had the integrity and courage to keep it from the Commander,” I say.
“But why not return it to Rowansmark if it belongs to them?” she asks.
Oliver shakes his head. “I don’t know, but James Rowan is doing everything in his power to get it back. There’s a reward posted. A year’s supply of wheat, a head of cattle, and a lifetime appointment to Rowansmark’s Military Council for whoever brings in your father. Alive.”
Rachel and I are silent as the absurd generosity of the reward sinks in.
“No one’s claimed the reward yet, so unless he got caught by the Cursed One, he’s alive.” Oliver gives Rachel’s shoulder one more squeeze and heaves himself to his feet. “Thought I’d make a trip out here to tell you that.” He picks up the water set before him and downs it in five long gulps. “Best be on my way. Don’t want to get caught out after dark.”
Rachel launches herself at his chest, clinging to him. “Not yet. We have something to tell you.”
He looks at me.
“We’re leaving the day after Claiming.” I stand, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and hoping he understands that though I don’t know how to show it, I understand I owe him my life. If he hadn’t quietly defied the Commander’s decree and befriended a dirty little street rat, I wouldn’t be a man worthy of calling people like Jared, Rachel, and Oliver family. “We’re traveling the Wasteland to find Jared. And we’re bringing you with us.”
“I’m too old for journeys across the Wasteland.” Oliver wraps one arm around my middle as well. “I’m proud of you both. Jared would be too. Remember that, and stay alive.”
“But you have to come with us!” Rachel’s eyes are damp.
“We aren’t coming back,” I say. “We trust that Jared’s reasons for not delivering the package to Baalboden are sound, so we won’t be giving the Commander what he wants. When we don’t come back, he’ll take our treason out on you.”
“How am I supposed to hike across all that wilderness looking for Jared? I’ll just slow you down.”
“There’s another group of highwaymen scheduled to trade tomorrow. You’ll go out to trade as usual, but you won’t come back.”
“The guards sweep the area with Identidiscs,” he says.
“I have tech that can block those. You usually bring a donkey out with you to carry supplies to and from the trading area, don’t you?” I ask.
He nods.
“This time, beneath your baked goods, pack clothing, food, a torch, and a weapon. Trade only for items you can use in the Wasteland. At the guards’ shift change, mingle with the highwaymen’s wagons, hand out baked goods to deflect suspicion if you have to, and then just walk right into the Wasteland. We’ll join you the next day.”
“That’s downright brazen.” Oliver’s smile is full of pride.
“It will work. It has to.” I clamp my hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be invisible on the Identidisc. You can ride the donkey across the Wasteland to make the journey easier. We’ll leave you at one of the safe houses until we find Jared. Then we can all build a new life together somewhere else.”
His dark eyes meet mine, calm and assessing. “Seems a lot of risk for you two to take just for one old man.”
“You’re family. We aren’t leaving without you.”
“If you stay, he’ll kill you.” Rachel’s voice breaks, and Oliver hauls her close.
“Don’t cry, Rachel-girl. I aim to be a great-granddaddy. If that takes riding an ass across a godforsaken wilderness, I guess that’s what I’ll do.”
“Thank you.” I slip a magnetic wrist cuff into his hand. “Wear that over your wristmark on trading day and the Identidisc won’t be able to find you.”
Oliver holds on to us both a moment longer, and then he’s gone. The cottage feels empty without him.