CHAPTER ONE
Honeymoon Fever
Monday, November 12, 1877
Nick stormed into the house. He'd returned from taking the boys to school and still Charger was in the stable—proof that Heath was still in bed. He ran up the stairs and pounded on Heath's door. "Heath! C'mon! Get your lazy ass outta bed! Your honeymoon's over and it's time to work!"
"Nick!" Isabella called from the room next door she shared with Nick.
Nick continued to rap his fist on Heath's door. "Get up, boy! Now!"
"Nicholas!" Isabella yelled, but because she only wore a robe, she remained in the doorway of their bedroom.
Nick pounded again on door. "This is a working—"
The door opened. Heath stood there, his face pale except for the pinkness of his cheeks. He looked like he'd been awake all night. He said nothing. With a quick but potent backhand, he hit Nick's cheek and watched as Nick fell against the wall before gaining his balance. "Now, leave me the hell alone!" he said in a scratchy, gravelly voice. He returned to his room and slammed the door.
The sound of the lock sliding into place was followed by the scraping sounds of furniture moving.
Nick stood there, rubbing his burning cheek, staring at Heath's door.
"Are you okay?" Isabella asked.
Nick slowly moved his eyes to her. "Heath hit me." His tone revealed his disbelief that his brother would do such a thing.
"You were making a lot of noise."
"But he should be at work." He followed Isabella back into their room. "Why ain't he at work?"
Isabella stared at Nick. "Maybe because he was up all night puking his guts out?"
"What?"
"He and Margaret were both sick all night."
"They got honeymoon fever or somethin'?"
Isabella laughed, then looked more closely at Nick's red cheek. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. That's actually the softest hit I ever took from Heath." Nick shrugged and again tried to rub away the sting. "It was either a warning slap . . . or he must really be sick."
"He is!" Isabella insisted.
"I better get to work then." Nick leaned over and kissed Isabella. He pulled her closer to him—as close as she could get with her protruding tummy between them—and then moved his kisses to her neck.
"Nick," Isabella said quietly, trying to push away from him. "The door is open, your mother is coming down the hall, and Andy is running up the stairs."
"Umm-hmmm," Nick said, going for the place just under her ear that made her knees go weak.
"Nicholas Jonathan!" Victoria yelled.
Nick jumped away from Isabella and swung to face his mother, his face crimson. "Yes, ma'am?"
Victoria scowled at him. "Why are you bothering Heath?"
"Heath?" Nick looked at Isabella, confused. It wasn't Heath he'd been kissing.
Isabella smiled. Nick was so adorable when he looked vulnerable and guilty like a five-year-old caught misbehaving.
"Now, you need to quit bothering your brother and your wife and get to work," Victoria stated.
"Yes, ma'am." He glanced at Isabella. "I'll try to get in for lunch." Then he looked at his mother. "Is Heath really sick?"
"Yes, Nick. He and Margaret were both up vomiting all night."
"I better get to work, then. Will you take care of them?"
"Yes. And I've already told Isabella she is to stay far away from them—and you should as well."
Nick froze, his eyes growing large. He turned to Isabella. "You better stay in our room today."
Isabella rolled her eyes. "Go to work, Nick. I'll be fine."
"I'll be back for lunch." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Stay right there."
XXXXX
Nick found Sam working on the new corral with several of the hands. He stopped Coco next to Sam.
Sam turned to face Nick, his easy smile in place. "Get the boys to school?"
"Yeah." Nick glanced around. "Where's McColl?"
"He took the rest of the men to the north pasture."
"What's goin' on there?"
"Tree down. Took out some fencing. Some cattle got out."
Nick scratched his ear. "I guess I should probably go over there, then. Looks like you got this under control."
Sam nodded. "Heath get back from his honeymoon?"
"Yeah." Nick patted Coco. "Didn't get in until the late train—almost eleven last night."
Sam smiled. "That explains why he ain't workin' today."
"Nope. He and Margaret were both up all night vomiting."
Sam frowned. "Bad?"
"I guess. I didn't hear 'em, but Isabella said they were running to the bathroom all night."
"Isabella been around 'em?"
Nick considered. "I don't think so. She was already in bed when they got in last night." He started to turn Coco, but Sam grabbed his reins. "What?" Nick asked.
"Whatever they have could be contagious—and could be really bad for someone in Isabella's condition."
"I told her to stay in our room today."
"Good."
Nick scowled. "She rolled her eyes at me—which means she ain't planning to listen to me."
Sam grimaced. "That's not good, Nick."
"I'll run back home and talk to her."
Sam touched his arm. "Were the rest of you around Heath and Margaret last night?"
Nick considered. "Yeah. Except for the boys. They were in bed."
"Nick, why don't you take Isabella and boys over to my house? Have 'em pack for a couple of days."
Nick frowned. "You really think that's necessary?"
"I think that would be better'n her gettin' sick—especially since we don't know what's causing the sickness."
Nick tried to think about what to do. If he told Isabella she was moving in with Sam and Jeannie for a while, she'd have a fit. Was it worth the fight?
Sam watched him think. "Yes, Nick. I do think it's important."
Nick sighed.
"In fact, it might be a good idea for you to stay home for a couple of days."
"No, I can't—"
"Nick, if you give that sickness to all the men, ain't nobody gonna get nothin' done."
"Well, if I'm exposed, you might be too."
Sam considered. "I doubt it. We ain't been that close, and you ain't running a fever yet, right?"
"No."
"It still might be a good idea for me to sleep in the bunkhouse, though," Sam stated thoughtfully. "Just to be on the safe side so I don't get our wives and babies sick."
Nick nodded. "When I take Isabella over there, I'll ask Jeannie to pack you some clothes and stuff and leave it outside."
"You need to keep your distance from Isabella and the boys." Sam caught his breath. "Don't take Isabella—just tell her through the door to take Andy and go to my house. Tell her to take enough clothes and stuff for three days. And tell her to avoid everybody at your house. I'll pick up the boys after school today and take 'em to Jeannie." He stepped back. "You think the boys should go to school tomorrow?"
"Why not? Heath and Margaret must've caught something in San Francisco."
"Or on the train or in town when they got off the train."
Nick sighed. "Why don't you ask Miss Saunders to give you their lessons for the next couple of days?"
Sam nodded. "Jeannie used to teach school."
"Yeah, you told me that. And Isabella will be there to help her with the kids." Nick leaned back. "You let McColl know what's goin' on, and I'll get Isabella and Andy on their way to your house."
"Sounds good. I just hope it will turn out unnecessary, but when a lady's in Isabella's condition, you can't take no chances."
"Thanks, Sam. I guess I'll either see you on Wednesday?"
"Better make it Thursday to be safe. If'n you don't got no sickness by Thursday morning, it should be safe."
"Okay. And I'll leave you notes on the back door of things that need done—and you can leave me notes there lettin' me know what's goin' on."
Sam nodded and took a deep breath. "Guess I'll see you on Thursday, then."
Nick gave a quick wave and rode Coco back home.
XXXXX
Nick carried the basket of clothes and personal items Isabella and the boys would need, walking several steps behind Isabella. It wasn't easy to convince her to go ahead of him, but Victoria had agreed and urged Isabella to go immediately. The hardest part of moving his wife and boys was not being able to get close to them. He waved as Isabella and Andy disappeared into Jeannie's house, then sighed deeply. Three days without his Izzy. Without his boys.
Damn that Heath.
XXXXX
Tuesday, November 13, 1877
Nick awoke pre-dawn, his head pounding. In fact, his entire body ached. He stretched and rolled out of bed. Why did he hurt so much? He hadn't even worked for two days, and he'd only had one short whiskey last night. Maybe it was because he hadn't slept well without his Isabella next to him.
He pulled on his robe and headed to the bathroom.
Heath was just leaving his room, dressed for work.
"Where d'ya think you're goin', boy?" Nick demanded, his voice hoarse.
Heath started. He swung around and looked at Nick. "You look like hell."
"I asked you where you think you're goin'?"
"To work."
"No, you ain't."
"Yes, I am."
"I said you ain't."
Heath set his jaw and glared at his brother. "Why the hell not?"
"Because you've been sick."
"I'm all better now."
As much as Nick loved to argue with his brother, he wasn't in the mood this morning. "I'm tellin' ya you ain't working today. You ain't to leave the house, and that's an order!"
"I don't take orders from nobody!" Heath snapped.
Before Nick could respond, his stomach churned and he ran for the bathroom.
XXXXX
Heath scowled, watching him. Looked like Nick might have the sickness now. He hated that. But he didn't hate it so much he was going to stay in the house all day. Heath ran down the backstairs.
Silas wasn't in the kitchen. Heath hoped he wasn't sick, too. He started a pot of coffee, then foraged through the kitchen and found some biscuits.
"Heath."
Heath glanced up. Victoria stood in front of him, still in her robe.
"Good morning, Mother. Why are you up so early?"
"Let's just say it's hard to sleep with all the yelling going on." She pressed her lips tightly together.
Heath swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't realize we were loud."
"I was already awake," she admitted and rubbed her head.
"Are you okay?" Heath asked.
"Yes. Just a headache." She straightened and met Heath's eyes. "Nick was right. You can't go to work today."
"But, Mother—"
"Don't 'but Mother' me! You can be contagious for up to twenty-four hours after your fever breaks. And you were still running a fever last night."
"I'm fine, Mother. Good as new."
"It's not about you, Heath! It's about those thirty-some men out there. You go out there and get all the men sick and you'll bring this ranch to a screeching halt. Now, I'm not going to stand here and argue with you. You're to stay in this house today." She met his eyes. "And I expect you to honor my wishes."
Heath's shoulders dropped. He sighed. "Yes, Mother. I'm sorry for upsetting you."
Victoria released her breath. "Nick's been leaving notes for Sam on the back door. Would you mind leaving a note that Nick is sick?"
"You sure he's sick?"
"Sure sounded like it."
"I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't mean to make nobody else sick."
"I know you didn't." She kissed his cheek. "I'm going back to bed."
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