Page 8 of Bitter Heat
“He’s a bit poorly at times,” Pater said gently. “But it’s nothing catching. Do you need a cold rag for your neck, love?”
Kerry shook his head. The nausea was already passing. He just needed to keep his mind off the inevitable a bit longer. He wanted to go out on the back porch. Rock in his favorite chair. Stare at the lake again. Feel the breeze in his hair. Ignore the small, fluttering movements he’d just noticed earlier that day beneath his navel.
“Pardon,” he said, lowering the napkin. “Pater is right. I’m not feeling like myself. But I’m fine now. Please, go on about how you came to Hud’s Basin to work with Dr. Crescent. I’m surprised you’d call yourself lucky. He’s a crotchety bastard.”
“He’s the only doctor who agreed to take me on,” Janus said, with a hint of pink in his high cheekbones. “As I said, I’m short of some requirements. Most doctors wanted me to wait another year, but I was impatient to begin. I feel as though, in some ways, I’ve been waiting forever. I need to prove myself.”
Kerry narrowed his gaze on Janus. He doubted Janus had any idea at all of what true waiting really meant. He didn’t push it, though, and instead said, “Many men from a certain background would simply ask their fathers or uncles to pay a suitable price to, uh, ‘procure’ the necessary requirements.”
Janus’s expression darkened. “There was a time I might have done just that. But I’ve turned over a new leaf, and I’m a better man for it. I live by my own means and merits now.”
Pater said, “I’m sure your father—”
“Uncle,” Janus corrected.
“Uncle, then. I’m sure he’s proud of you for that.”
“He’s enraged, actually.” Janus chuckled, but it sounded like it cost him. “But my cousins Xan and Ray are pleased, and I suppose, given the fact that I’ll be dealing with them for much longer than I’ll have to deal with their father, I’d rather be on their good side. Besides, a man needs to stand on his own two feet, doesn’t he? If he’s ever going to be proud of himself?”
“Omegas do find that attractive,” Pater said, sliding a glance to Kerry.
Kerry glared at him.
“Or so I’ve been led to understand, but I’ve been wrong before.” Pater smiled at Janus a bit too warmly.
Kerry changed the subject back to something safer. “Dr. Crescent probably didn’t care because he doesn’t even have a medical degree himself.”
Janus startled and put down his teacup. “Excuse me?”
Maybe not that much safer.
“It’s true,” Pater said. “He started doctoring ages ago, before there were laws up this way about who could do the doctoring and who couldn’t. He just kept right on at it. No one’s ever convinced him to quit. And I’m not rightly sure what Hud’s Basin would do if he did.”
Janus sputtered. “I’d think the local police might have some power of persuasion over him.”
Kerry shook his head. The idea of Sheriff Tintson moving against Dr. Crescent, the man who’d helped his omega give birth to five strapping alphas, was absurd. “Dr. Crescent is beloved in Hud’s Basin.”
“And Dr. Crescent is a favorite with the local Holy Wolf congregation, too,” Pater added. “Always giving them extra tithe at the end of the year to make up for lack of attendance. That might have something to do with why Sheriff Tintson doesn’t see fit to charge him with malpractice. Well, that and he’s a damn good doctor.”
“Not by the city standard,” Kerry murmured, knowing that saying such a thing would rile his pater up. Pater had warned Kerry that if he contracted with Wilbet, he’d be “citified” and changed forever. Well, he’d certainly been right about the latter part, if not entirely the former.
“Dash ‘city standard’ to wolf-god’s own hell. What has ‘city standard’ ever gotten us mountain folk? Some electricity, sure. Some science, all right. But has it fed our babies and clothed them? Has it pleased wolf-god enough to spare us poverty and keep our omegas from suffering?” Pater jabbed the table with his index finger. “No. City standard has not! I’ll take our mountain ways any day.”
“The rate of paternal death during childbirth is down significantly in the cities,” Kerry said. “Only two percent last year versus the twelve percent we saw.”
Janus’s eyes went wide at the words “twelve percent” though he kept eating the pot pie like it was the finest meal he’d had in ages. Oh well, let him get his surprise over with. It was best if he knew what he was getting into early on.
“Maybe! But at what cost?” Pater asked, and then shook his head. “Wolf-god gave us our ways and saved us from the finality of destruction when the human females all went with the Great Death. No, keep the city standard, and I’ll keep wolf-god’s blessings on my tongue.”
“It doesn’t have to be either-or,” Janus said, putting his fork down for a moment. “You could have both. As I used to say to some rather handsome, contracted omegas of my acquaintance: a little bit of both worlds never hurt a soul.”
“I’d beg to differ,” Pater said softly.
Kerry sighed. “City ways aren’t the same, Pater.”
“Of course not. I know that.” Pater relaxed again and eyed Janus playfully. “So, a playboy, were ya?” Pater snorted. “Why am I not surprised by that? Look at him, Kerry. Handsome, friendly, and with that dimple in his cheek. Wolf-god save us! And did you get a look at his shoes? So fancy. Omegas must just swoon over ya.”
Kerry met Janus’s blinking, embarrassed gaze and asked baldly, “Well, do they? Swoon over you?”
