Chapter Forty-Two

Although Amalia had complained of Donovan's outrageous assumption that he could add two extra mouths to their household, the children worked hard and soon became proficient in a number of small tasks. Tasha's small hands seemed unlimited in their talents as she sewed, crocheted, teased wool, and sorted seeds and herbs with the patience of a much older girl. Will seemed to grow taller and stronger overnight on Carina's good cooking and was a ready worker on any odd job they presented him with. He had a surprising amount of knowledge about animals, although he was vague about where he had learned so much. Carina thought he might have worked for a vet or farrier, while Amalia was certain his parents had owned a ranch.

It was Donovan who finally got Will's story out of him on a gorgeous winter afternoon of clear blue skies. They had gone to check their traps and were been disappointed to find that instead of a jackrabbit, one of their traps had caught a young coyote.

Donovan leveled his gun to shoot it, but Will stopped him. "Don't waste your ammo." He double-checked the safety on his rifle, then walked up to the snarling animal, felled it with a single blow of his rifle butt and bent to remove it from the trap.

"Are you sure it's dead?" Donovan asked, jittery at the thought of what an injured animal might do to the boy. "I don't want it waking up and attacking you."

"Oh, he's dead, all right. I've done this a lot."

Donovan considered while they disposed of the animal and put the trap into a bag to take home for cleaning. "Where'd you learn to kill a coyote like that?"

"Practice. One of my first jobs was guarding the animals at night, with nothing but a piece of old pipe. You get pretty good with a pipe when it's the only thing you've got."

"I thought you said your mom and dad were townies."

"They were. Probably still are, for all I know."

"You mean you're not really an orphan? You have a home you could go to?"

"I'm not an orphan, if you mean are my parents still alive. I have no reason to think they're dead. But no, I don't have a home to go to."

"You ran away."

"Not from them."

"Then from who?"

"From the man they sold me to."

They were at the next trap now, empty and unsprung. "They sold you to a man out in the country who needed a hand."

"Yeah." Will moved forward to check if the trap was still baited. "There were too many of us and it was supposed to be like an apprenticeship."

"Seems like you learned a lot."

"I learned some things." He took off down the trail.

Donovan hurried to catch up. "Why didn't you stay?"

Will’s face clouded over. "There were things he wanted to teach me that I didn't want to learn. Everyone in town knew what he was like, but he paid good prices to our parents if we had the kind of look he wanted."

"I guess that's why you couldn't go home."

"They needed the money and would've sent me back."

They checked a few more traps in silence before Donovan’s curiosity got the better of him. "What about Tasha? Don't tell me again that she's your sister."

The boy shrugged, picked up a stone and tossed it into a fallow field. "She is my sister, as far as I'm concerned. When I found her she didn't have no one. I promised I'd be her brother and look out for her always."

"So she was alone?"

"She was with her mother, but her mother was dead."

"Where was this?"

"Off to the side of a road in the dark. I was trying to get to Jonasville and I guess they were, too. Or maybe they were leaving it. Tasha couldn't really explain what happened. Her mother must've been sick or something. I don't know."

"How long ago was this?" Donovan asked, in some concern. "Does she remember?"

"I don't think she remembers much," Will said. "I don't even know if she remembers her real name. She never told me. I call her Tasha because I had a sister, a real one, with that name. But she's pretty smart. She might remember more than I think. She always surprises me."

Next>>
<<Previous