Reaper's Vow (7 page)

“Why?”

“Because they gave him our house. He wants to steal Miss Addy away, and now he's got our house.”

Shit. Cole blinked. The bad man was him.

“And you have to sleep with Jenny Hastings who wets the bed because this man took your house?”

She nodded.

“Maybe he really doesn't want to steal Miss Addy away. Maybe he loves her.”

“If he loved her, he wouldn't make her sad.”

“What makes you think she's sad?”

“I snuck into the barn the other day, and I saw her crying.”

“Did she see you?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I can sneak real good.”

He wished he could see her face. If her expressions were anything like her energy, she had a very expressive face. “How'd you learn to sneak so good?”

“I can't fight with Mommy, so when I get mad, I come here.”

“Why can't you fight with Mommy?” He'd fought with his parents all the time.

“Because she's sad.”

“Your mommy's sad?”

Another rustle that he assumed meant another nod.

“She doesn't know I know, but me and Dolly know.”

Dolly?
“And you don't like to make her sadder.”

She nodded.

Nice kid. “Is this your secret place?”

“Used to be.”

He smiled at the accusation in the three words. “I won't tell.”

“Yes, you will. Grown-ups always tell.”

He shook his head. “I won't.”

“Why not?”

“Because I had a secret place in the barn when I was a boy, and I know how special it is.”

There was a long, pregnant pause followed by a very aggressive, “If you tell, I'll make you sorry.”

He could just imagine.

Without turning, he put his hand over his shoulder with his little finger crooked, remembering Addy's favorite thing.

“I'll even pinky swear.”

The tension that came from that corner was immediate. A pinky swear was a powerful thing, but she had to touch him to pinky swear, and Cole imagined that was a pretty scary thing.

There was another rustle, the scent of hay intensified, and then a small finger curved around his.

Damn, how little was she?

“Done.”

Immediately she slipped back into her corner.

“Why's your mommy sad?”

“She doesn't want to marry.”

“Then she shouldn't.”

“I think she misses Daddy, too.”

That was understandable.

“And I'm not always as good as I should be.”

“I'm sure your mom thinks you're the best thing ever.”

A little hesitation.

“I try to be good.”

“Everyone slips up now and then.”

“Do you?”

All the time. He thought it but didn't say it. Instead, he pointed out, “You just heard me swear.”

“Two times you said bad words.”

He nodded.

“You're not supposed to say bad words around me. I'm little.”

Convenient how she trotted that out now when just a minute ago she was threatening him.

“I didn't know you were back there.”

“Mama says you can't use that as an excuse. How you behave when no one else is around is your character on parade.”

Lord, her mom sounded like a stickler.

“Speaking of your mother, is she going to be looking for you soon?”

There was another one of those silent rustling nods.

“Hadn't you better be getting on home?”

“I can't go home. The bad man has my house. He's probably sleeping in my bed.” She said that last as if it would be a permanent contamination. He was actually a bit offended.

“Why'd they put him in your house?”

If he'd known he'd be displacing a woman and a child, he would have just slept in the barn.

“Miss Addy said he had to have a house.”

Addy would say that.

“And yours was the only available?”

“Everybody else lives with somebody.”

So her mother was unattached. Again Miranda's face flashed through his mind.

“And you don't?”

“No. I think the dreams scared my daddy away.”

She'd lost him there. “Dreams?”

“People don't like it when Mommy dreams.”

From that he deduced her mother had nightmares.

“Do you?”

“No.”

“What do you do when she dreams?”

“I hold her close and stroke her hair. Sometimes she wakes up.”

“And when she doesn't?”

“Then she screams.”

“Why?”

“Bad men chase her in her dreams,” she whispered.

Cole felt that tightening in his gut. “I'm thinking maybe you shouldn't be telling me this.”

“Everybody knows everything here. Can't get away with nothing.”

And there was that fresh bit of resentment.

“You going to be in trouble when you go home?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, did you do the wrong?”

Another silent nod that was indicated by the rustling of hair on wood.

“Then I guess you have to take the punishment when you do the wrong, don't you?”

A long sigh. “That's what Mommy says.”

“You don't agree?”

“I hope she makes Uncle G punish me.”

“Why?”

“It doesn't hurt when he spanks.”

Cole bit back a laugh. He just bet it didn't. “Uncle G is special to your mom?”

“Uh-huh. When mama's so mad she can't talk, she sends me to Uncle G to spank.”

“What does Uncle G do?”

“He gets a real mean face.”

“And?”

“He says things in a quiet voice.”

“And?”

“He spanks me.”

“But it doesn't hurt?”

She shook her head. “He thinks it does, I think.”

She said it as if that was a good thing. Cole couldn't imagine spanking a little girl. He couldn't imagine tolerating anyone making the attempt. Especially this little girl. There was something so . . . familiar about her energy.

He stood and tucked the cup in his coat pocket. “Well, it might be time to head on home, honey. It's raining, and your mom will be worried. Does she know where you hide?”

“No. This is my new spot.”

So her other one had been found. He put the cup in his pocket.

“How 'bout I give you a ride.”

Silence.

“The longer you wait, the more trouble you'll be in.”

This time the response was a snort. “Me and Dolly aren't afraid.”

“But I bet your mom is worried though.”

The snort faded to a sigh. “I don't want to sleep with Jenny Hastings.”

“We all have to do things we don't want to. Besides, maybe Jenny has outgrown that problem.”

“I'm never that lucky.”

It was such an adult thing to say it made him smile. “Neither am I. Now, do you want a lift or not?”

There was a shuffling of feet, a sound of something skimming wood, her hand as she came around the corner of the stall. He couldn't see much at first in the gloom beyond that she was tiny.

He lit a match, giving her light, and when she came around the corner of the box, he almost dropped it. A tiny, delicate, fae little creature with big brown eyes, long lashes, a round face framed by fat brown ringlets, and a cherub's mouth came toward him. She was dressed in a faded blue smock that did nothing to diminish her impact. Fairy child, that was all he could think. At first. After the shock, came anger.

Damn. She shouldn't be five feet from the front door without a guard, let alone out in the barn by herself at dark. Her mother should know better.

As she got close enough to touch, he saw she clutched a rag doll in her arms. The doll sported an equally faded but pretty blue dress and a fancy painted face. Dolly, he presumed.

Cole's first impulse was to scoop her up and away from the dirt of the barn floor. She looked too angelic to be real. She frowned up at him.

“You're going to burn your fingers.”

In the next instant he did. He quickly snuffed the match, not dropping it on the floor, but wetting it to make sure it was extinguished before putting it in his pocket.

He struck another one. The impression of a tiny fairy child lasted into the next flame. Her mother had to be worried to death.

“You ready to go home?”

She shook her head and took a step back. And another. “You're the bad man.”

“Yep, I'm the one that took your bed. But that doesn't mean I would have done it had I known.”

She didn't look soothed. “You're Miss Addy's cousin?”

He nodded.

She scowled at him. “You've come to take her away from us.”

He shrugged. “I came to see that she was happy.”

“Why?”

“Because she's my cousin and it's my job to look out for her.”

“I don't have cousins.”

What could he say to that? “I'm sorry.”

She cocked her head to the side. Her pigtail slid across her face. She blew at it. “You don't seem bad.”

“No one's all bad, honey.”

“Miss Addy says you love her.”

“I do.”

“She says sometimes you do wrong things in the name of love. And when people do, you have to forgive them.”

She didn't look on the verge of forgiveness. If a fairy could look hostile, he was seeing it.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I suppose you do.”

The little fairy child stood there as the match burned closer to his fingertips, studying his expression, not answering. And not the least bit rushed by the flame's journey to his fingertips.

“Taking Miss Addy away from Mister Isaiah would be very bad.”

“I'm stewing on it.”

“Mister Isaiah keeps her safe. He makes her laugh. She laughs a lot.” The last was accompanied by a glare.

Cole couldn't remember the last time Addy had laughed.

“She does, huh?”

The kid nodded. “He loves her, and that's a gift Mama says.”

“I agree.”

Making shooing motions with her hands she said, “You're going to have to just get along.”

She said that with the wisdom of a much older person, which made him think it was something she'd heard before.

“What makes you think I can?”

“Mama says you just have to want to, and it happens.”

“Maybe I don't have a lot of wanting in me.”

The match burned down; he wet his fingers and snuffed it out, putting that one in his pocket, too.

Before he could light the next one she said, “You're not supposed to light matches in the barn.”

“We'll make a concession tonight because it's hard to see.”

“The rain makes everything dark.”

It did that.

He took off his coat and held it out. She couldn't see. He could see her slightly though. He'd always been able to see in very little light. Another advantage he'd been born with.

“Take three steps forward,” he told her. It was too much to expect instant obedience.

“Why?”

“Because you're cold, and I took my coat off, and I'd like to wrap it around you.”

“It'll be too big.”

“Think of it as a large blanket.”

She shivered. “Is it stinky?”

He'd had enough. He took a couple steps forward, wrapped her in his coat, and picked her up.

“You tell me.”

At first she sat very stiff and quiet, and then, “You smell good.”

He couldn't imagine why his coat smelled good. Must be that dunking in the river, before he'd met up with the Reapers, that had taken out the worst of the stench.

“I do, huh?”

“Like horse and the woods outside.”

He'd never been described that way.

“Dolly likes it,” she declared as if that decided everything.

“She does, huh?”

He rubbed his hands up and down her back as she shivered again.

“You should have gotten dressed before you left.”

“My coat was in the room with Mommy.”

“So how'd you get out?”

“Jenny's house has a real window.”

He made a note that if he ever had kids, no windows in their room.

“Her mama insisted on it in case there's a fire.”

He changed his mind. He wanted windows in his kid's room.

“Good point.”

He tucked her closer as she shivered again. She was such a tiny thing. He couldn't remember Addy ever being this delicate. And there'd been plenty of times he'd held her while she cried or laughed or just drifted off because the day had gone on too long and she couldn't stay awake. He definitely remembered her having more substance.

“What's your name?” he asked.

“Wendy.”

“Hello, Wendy.” He hitched her up. “I'm Cole.”

She grabbed his neck. “It's very nice to make your acquaintance, Mister Cole.”

Manners were obviously something her mother had instilled deep. He liked that.

“How about we get you home, Miss Wendy?”

Her head bobbed against his shoulder in a nod. He might smell of outdoors and horses, but she smelled like cotton and . . . vanilla?

“All right.”

The answer ended on a yawn. Someone was getting tired. The rain pounded harder on the roof. The storm was turning into a real drencher.

“Which house is Jenny's?”

She jerked her head in a direction that could mean anything. He rolled his eyes. They were standing inside the barn for shit's sake.

As if she sensed his impatience, Wendy muttered. “I can walk.”

Not a lot of enthusiasm accompanied that statement. Clearly Miss High and Mighty liked being carried.

“Really? Because I thought we'd have a race.”

“Oh.” She perked up. “A race?”

“Yeah, we're going to race raindrops.”

She smiled. And even with all that weighed on his mind, he felt an answering tug of his lips. She looked so familiar.