Believe: The Complete Channie Series (172 page)

Eli harrumphed and rolled his eyes. “I, Eli, son of Zebulon’s daughter, do hereby challenge the recruit, Jonathan, to a test of strength and skill. I release him from any responsibility in the unlikely event that he causes me bodily harm. The last man standing wins. Do you accept the challenge?”

“I accept.” Jonathan removed everything from his upper body, except the gold chain around his neck. Damn, it was cold in there. Reuben must not have thought it was important to heat the hay barn. Jonathan bounced on his toes, shaking out his arms.

Eli curled his lips. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Warming up. You should at least stretch out a little before we get started.”

Eli snorted. “I’ve never been in a fight where my opponent gave me any warning before attacking, much less time to prance around like a ballerina.”

Paul giggled. Gabriel laughed. River clapped both hands over her mouth, but her eyes crinkled at the corners.

Jonathan turned away from the loft, faced Eli and bowed. That common courtesy earned him another round of laughter, sending a flush of heat across his cheeks. Well, let’s see who’s laughing when this is over.

Jonathan grinned and cocked his head to the side, inviting Eli to throw the first punch.

Eli drew his arm back then threw a right hook.

Jonathan took a half-step back, blocked the incoming blow with a downward thrust of his left forearm then immediately stepped forward and smacked Eli’s cheek with an open palm. He could have ended the fight if he’d countered with a right jab to the temple, but where’s the fun in that?

Eli glared at Jonathan as he pressed his palm against his cheek, leaving his entire body exposed.

Jonathan tapped his other cheek and laughed. “Come on. What are you waiting for?”

Eli threw a combination left jab, right cross that Jonathan easily dodged and blocked. He followed up with more open palmed slaps to Eli’s face, head and body. Eli started sweating after about five minutes. He dropped his hands to his knees and gasped for breath.

Jonathan grinned at him. “Had enough?”

Eli didn’t say, “yes,” nod his head, or otherwise indicate the match was over, but he did stand up without raising his guard.

Jonathan reached out to shake his hand but as soon as he did, Eli threw a right jab. Jonathan didn’t have time to block it or dodge it completely. He ducked just enough that Eli’s fist glanced off his cheek instead of popping him in the nose.

Gabriel yelled, “That was a cheap shot, Eli.” River and Paul murmured their assent.

Eli’s face was beet red. It could have been from anger, but Jonathan suspected that humiliation was at least partly to blame. Getting slapped repeatedly without landing a solid punch made Eli look like a fool. But it also made Jonathan feel like a bully.

He stopped playing and started fighting. Jonathan delivered a back roundhouse kick into Eli’s solar plexus. He knew from experience that the pain from the blow, combined with the inability to breathe, made you feel as if you were dying.

Eli’s eyes widened as he tried in vain to draw a breath.

Jonathan took the opportunity to sneak a peek at River. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at him. He wished he had his bo staff. He was skilled with hand to hand combat, but his true talent shone when he had a weapon in his hand. Jonathan had always enjoyed the thrill of competing in front of a cheering crowd, but the thrill of showing off in front of River was an even bigger rush.

He waited for Eli to broadcast his next move, avoided the clumsy kick then threw a back tuck instead of a counter attack. The gasp of surprise from the loft sent a wave of pleasure through Jonathan.

The look of shock on Eli’s face was priceless. “What the hell was that all about?”

“In a competition you get extra points for good tumbling skills.”

“Would you do that in a real fight?” Eli was still looking down his nose at Jonathan, but it was a valid question.

“No. But it’s fun. You should try it.”

Eli laughed. “Yeah, right. You just want me to break my neck.”

Jonathan wouldn’t mind watching Eli plant his face in the dirt.

“It’s not hard…unless your stomach muscles are too weak.” Jonathan flexed, showing off his six-pack abs.

Eli’s eyes narrowed into slits. He roared like an angry bull and charged.

Jonathan couldn’t resist. He stepped to the side, spun halfway around and landed a solid sidekick in the middle of Eli’s butt, sending him flying, face first, into the haystack.

River jumped from the loft, into the hay, rolled over Eli, and landed on her feet. She took Jonathan’s wrist and raised his hand over his head. “Jonathan is the last man standing. He wins!”

Eli dug himself out of the haystack and pointed his finger at River. “You’re biased.”

River looked into the loft. “Gabriel, who won?”

“Well…” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “Eli’s feet were off the ground for more than ten seconds.”

Paul clapped his hands and chanted, “Eli lost! Eli lost!” then jumped out of the loft. He tumbled down the haystack, head over heels, landing in a jumbled mess at River and Jonathan’s feet.

Eli’s shoulders slumped as he stared at Paul. He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them and glared at Jonathan. The expression on his face could only be described as murderous. He brushed the hay off his clothes then slammed Jonathan’s shoulder with his as he stomped out of the barn.

Paul grabbed Jonathan’s hand and tugged. “I wanna learn how to do that flippy thing.”

“Tell you what Paul, I’ll teach you how to do a back tuck if you teach me how to do what you just did.”

The little boy’s eyes lit up. “Really? Gosh that’s easy! All you gots to do is be sure there’s plenty of hay and nothing in it, like a pitchfork or a hoe, then jump.”

Gabriel called down from his seat in the loft. “I wouldn’t mind finding a ho in the haystack.”

River covered Paul’s ears and laughed. “You’re too young for whores.”

Jonathan grinned. “What about me? Am I too young?”

River’s smile disappeared. “You’ll have to wait until quarantine’s over.”

“I was just kidding. You know that, right?”

River shrugged her shoulders. “If you need to use a whore, talk to Reuben. Or Eli. I’m not sure how to arrange it.”

“I’d never use a prostitute!”

River tousled Paul’s hair then jogged towards the ladder. “Last one up is a rotten egg.”

“No fair!” Paul darted off after her, but River scampered up ahead of him. She leapt out of the loft, tucked her knees into her chest and landed on her back, sending a cloud of dust and hay into the air. She stretched out and log-rolled down the haystack, giggling and sneezing. She had so much hay sticking out of her braided hair she looked like a scarecrow.

Jonathan turned around and balanced on the edge of the loft. He did a back layout with a double twist then tucked into a ball before he hit the hay.

River, Gabriel and Paul had been so impressed with his simple back tuck, he thought for sure they’d go nuts after that combination, but the barn was dead silent.

He rolled over and grinned when he saw River and Paul staring at him with wide eyes and open mouths. He looked into the loft to check Gabriel’s reaction.

He shook his head and laughed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re crazy?”

“All the time.”

Paul climbed back into the loft and tried to imitate Jonathan. He wound up head first in the haystack. He brought quite a bit of hay down with him as he wiggled and squirmed his way free.

Gabriel crawled to the edge of the loft and climbed down the ladder.

“Don’t you want to jump?” Jonathan blinked and sneezed. He was willing to bet they didn’t have anything for hay fever.

Gabriel stared straight ahead and moved slowly as he climbed down, one hand and one foot at a time.

Paul tugged at Jonathan’s sleeve. “Gabriel’s scared to jump. He fell out of the loft and busted his leg.” Paul pointed to his thigh. “His bone was sticking out, right here.”

Jonathan sucked in a breath as he cringed. He’d had his share of broken bones. He could only imagine the suffering Gabriel endured when they set his femur without anesthesia. No wonder he was afraid of heights. It was a miracle he could walk.

Paul bounced on his toes and tugged on Jonathan’s sleeve again. “Now show me how you done that flippy thing.”

“How you did that flippy thing. Use the right word.” River smiled when she corrected Paul’s grammar, but he still stuck his tongue out at her.

Was River somehow responsible for Paul’s education? Maybe older kids were supposed to help with the younger ones. “Be nice to River, or I won’t teach you anything.”

Paul’s lower lip quivered. “But…you promised.”

“Just tell River you’re sorry and we can get started.”

Paul dug at the frozen dirt with the toe of his boot and glared at River. He mumbled “sorry,” then looked at Jonathan with sad-puppy eyes.

Jonathan couldn’t keep from smiling as he mussed the little rascal’s hair. “That wasn’t much of an apology, but if River accepts it, we’ll get started.”

Paul held his breath as he gazed at River.

She kept her arms folded across her chest, but nodded her assent.

Paul hopped from one foot to the other as Jonathan pulled some hay loose from the stack and spread it across the frozen ground. It wasn’t nearly as good as a tumbling mat, but it was the best they had. Besides, he had no intention of letting Paul hit the ground.

Gabriel and River stood to the side and watched as Jonathan explained the basic technique to Paul. 

“Jump straight up. Wait until you’re as high as you can go then pull your knees into your chest as hard and as fast as you can. Like this.” Jonathan grinned when everyone clapped and cheered. He’d have to show them some real tumbling when he was done spotting Paul.

“Okay, kid. Wait for me to get ready.” Jonathan hadn’t tried to spot a beginner with just one hand before. He grabbed a fistful of the little boy’s baggy shirt, but there was too much loose fabric. “Hang on, we need to figure out the best way to do this.”

River stepped forward and placed her hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Can I help?”

Her touch sent a wave of heat through his body. He looked over his shoulder into her big brown…whoa. “What happened to your eyes?”

She blinked and backed away from him. “What do you mean?”

“I thought they were brown. But…they look…almost…purple?” There was no way they had access to colored contacts out there.

River’s eyes widened. “They do?”

Jonathan leaned closer. “Yeah. They’re definitely purple. That’s weird. Do you feel okay?”

“I’m fine.” River ducked her head and turned away.

Paul put his fists on his hips and glared at River. “Nobody never tells me nothing. When did you merge?”

Gabriel grabbed Paul by the shoulders and spun him around. He leaned over and whispered something in his ear that made the little boy tremble.

“Hey. Don’t be so rough with the kid.” Jonathan wanted to know what Paul was talking about—especially after Gabriel’s reaction—but he didn’t want to get him in trouble.

River averted her eyes and cleared her throat. “You said you needed help figuring out something, so you can teach Paul how to flip over backwards.”

She was obviously feeling self-conscious about her eyes, so Jonathan let it go. “There’s too much slack between his shirt and his body.”

River twisted the fabric, formed a loop, and pulled the end through it in less than four seconds.

This time, when Jonathan grabbed Paul’s shirt, it felt secure. “Okay, Paul. On the count of three. One…”

Paul didn’t wait for the countdown. He didn’t do anything Jonathan told him to do. Instead of jumping straight up, he flung himself backwards. Instead of tucking his knees, he kicked out sideways.

Jonathan turned his face to the side, but Paul still managed to kick him in the face. Jonathan jerked up on Paul’s shirt and used his stump to flip the boy over.

Paul landed on his knees then looked up at Jonathan and let out a wail.

Jonathan ignored his throbbing nose and checked Paul for signs of injury. He didn’t find any. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Jonathan tipped his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to staunch the bleeding. “It’s okay, kiddo. I’ve had worse.”

The barn door swung open. Reuben walked in pulling a handcart behind him. He stopped and furrowed his brow. “Whose blood is that?”

Jonathan had his hand clamped over his nose so he just lifted his stump in the air.

“Gabriel, take Paul up to the house and get him cleaned up. River, stir up some biscuits for supper.”

Paul sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “But Pa…River can’t cook.”

“Do as you’re told. Now go.” Reuben dusted his hands off on his thighs. His voice carried no hint of sympathy. “Lay down, Jonathan.”

Jonathan was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like what came next.