Page 89 of Cabin Fever

"Yes, it bothered me. How you are with bad language, that's how I am with olives. I won't eat them. My family knows never to have olives in the house. I know it's silly, and it was almost two decades ago, but that stuff gets into your bones. Kids are so cruel."

My heart began to pound in my chest. Kids could be very cruel, especially me.

"I lied to you." I took a deep breath and gazed over into Olivia's hazel eyes.

"About what?"

"About the killer. I'm the one that caused my mom and sister's death. If I hadn't said what I did, my family might still be here. Even my father."

Olivia got up and walked to the chair closest to me. She took my hand and sat quietly waiting for me to go on.

"The gunman appeared in the crowd and started shouting at my father. But he wasn't cursing, I was. I stepped forward and used all the big words I could think of. Words I heard big kids say at school or my dad's political friends said when they didn't think little kids were around. I thought if I scared the guy with what I said, he would go away. But it angered him. He told my father, 'Is this what you teach your kids?' But he hadn't taught me that. I only wanted to scare him . . ."

Olivia leaned forward and wrapped her arm around me.

"If I hadn't cursed, that man wouldn't have tried to shoot my father. My mom and sister would still be here. My father would have never fallen trying to get a tree branch off the roof."

"That's how he died?" Olivia whispered.

"No. He died because I was too busy trying to get laid from one of the tourists at The Lodge. I came back home around one in the morning. He had been like that since the late afternoon."

"Oh, no," Olivia said with a whimper.

"He died by the time the ambulance arrived at the hospital. I was too late. I abandoned him and he died. I tried to scare off a gunman, and my mom and sister were killed. These were the reasons I never got close to people. When I tried to help, it hurt them more."

"You helped me." She squeezed my hand, but I barely felt it, lost in my terrible memories.

"No, I didn't. If I really did help you, I would tell you to go back home. But instead, I wanted to keep you to myself. Come Monday, I'll just be a poor sheep farmer. You deserve a man that will be able to put food on the table. According to Austen, I may not be able to do that."

"Carter, I think—"

"We should go." I took my wallet out of my back pocket.

"I'll get it."

She lifted the bill and reached for her purse.

"I can afford this."

"But for how long? I want you to keep every penny while you have it. If you insist on not taking what your father wished you to have." I could hear the irritation in her voice.

I guess she hadn't let it go.

"Hand over the check. I'm paying for the meal. This is a date, remember?"

I held out my hand, and she slapped it away. Not harshly, but enough to let me know she was serious about paying.

"Women can pay for dates."

"ButIaskedyou. Therefore, I should pay."

She held the receipt to her chest and stared.

"Look, Carter, there's something I need to tell you." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I got a call from Bea before we came to the restaurant. My father had a heart attack. He's in the hospital."

"Oh no, Olivia. Why didn't you say anything?"

She bit her bottom lip and sighed. "I debated saying something. Bea got a flight first thing in the morning for me. I thought we should cancel tonight, and I would stay home and pack. But then you were so happy. And the way you looked at me in this dress, I wanted something wonderful for us. A lovely romantic evening."

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