“He doesn’t hog the bed.” Her pretty little chin came up, blue eyes almost as dark as her ribbon with challenge. “Go away.”
Cassie giggled. “Feisty wee thing, isn’t she?” She glanced at me. “Aren’t you afraid you’re going to wake up one morning with your fingers and toes nibbled on thanks to her tiny teeth?”
Della stepped forward, dragging me with her. “I’d never bite him. But I’d bite you.”
“I’d bite you back.” Cassie leaned on the doorframe, completely unfussed. Brown hair slung over one shoulder, thick boots and tight jeans barely visible under the long puffer jacket zipped tight against the cold. “I’ve heard little girls are tasty treats.” Her eyes flashed to mine with a lick of her lips.
For some reason, my ears twitched at the way her voice lowered, and I swore an invitation echoed behind her joke.
Della looked as if she’d happily murder her. “You can’t eat me. Ren won’t let you. He loves me.” She looked up, her eyes wide and wild, her cheeks pink with worry. “You do still love me…right?”
And once again, she successfully cracked open my ribs and ripped out my heart. Cassie was no longer relevant as I dropped to one knee and clutched Della close. With my face buried in her sweet-smelling neck, I murmured, “I will always love you, Della Ribbon. Until the day I die and even past that.”
She threw her arms around me, trembling in a way that hinted she acted brave and brattish, but really, her fear was deep-seated and hurting her. I needed to spend more time with her. She should accompany me while I worked. We were so used to being in each other’s pockets that this new dynamic wasn’t acceptable.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into my ear. “Can we leave now? I’m ready to go.”
I stroked her back. “We can’t leave. It’s still too cold, and I like you alive and not covered in snow.”
“I could be an ice princess.” She pulled away, rubbing at the quick glisten of tears on her cheek. “I’d keep you warm, you’d see.”
I chuckled, climbing back to my feet and tugging her ponytail. “With your temper, you would keep me warm from fighting with you.”
A smile appeared, barely there and still unsure thanks to Cassie invading our privacy, but at least whatever terror had clutched her was gone.
“Can I say something?” Cassie asked, pushing off from the doorframe and entering our bedroom uninvited.
I arched an eyebrow as she came closer, doing my best to assess her threat while very aware she was my boss’s daughter. “What?”
“Not to you.” She pointed at Della. “To her.”
Della squared her shoulders, her blonde hair rippling with resentment. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“You sure about that?” Cassie closed the distance then sat on her haunches in front of her. “Do you know what day it is today?”
“The day we can leave?”
“No, not yet, I’m afraid.” Cassie shook her head. “That will be a sad day to say goodbye, not a happy day. For me, anyway.” She flashed me a look, and once again, her tone thickened and eyes shot a message I didn’t understand. The moment was gone as fast as it’d happened as she turned back to Della. “Today is much better than that. Want to know why?”
Despite herself, Della asked, “Why?”
“Because today isn’t a normal work day. Ren doesn’t have chores, and you don’t have to stay in here all day.”
“Why not?” Her eyebrows scrunched together. “It’s not a Sunday. Ren works every day but Sunday.”
“Not today, he doesn’t.”
I shuffled on the spot, fighting two polarizing emotions. One, I couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through my chest at Cassie treating Della so kindly. I still hadn’t made up my mind about her as a person, but the fact she spoke to Della as intelligent and not an idiot layered her with more than just physical appeal. And two, I struggled with the possession in my gut. The snaking, hissing knowledge that with every word she spoke, she cracked Della’s coldness and made her interact.
She was making me share her, and I both loved and loathed it.
“Why not today?” Della wedged the toe of her sneaker into the threadbare carpet. “Tell me.”
Cassie grinned. “Because today is Christmas!” Clapping her hands, she lost the sensual way she normally moved and acted like Della did when I agreed to tell her a new story. Excitement glowed on her face, making her so damn pretty that I had to move away to hide the evidence of my interest.
I had no idea what she was so upbeat about, but if it made her this attractive, I would have to avoid it at all costs. Strange heat bubbled in my belly. My lips tingled for something. Those frustrating, hated desires whenever I looked at dirty magazines returned in full force.
“What’s Christmas?” Della cocked her head, her ponytail swaying.
“Oh, my God, did you just ask what Christmas is?” Cassie’s mouth fell open. “How the hell do you not know what Christmas is?”
“Is that like when the TV families have a big meal, open gifts wrapped in bright paper, and then moan about eating too much?” Della nodded importantly. “I forgot. I do know Christmas.”
Cassie rose to her feet, shrugging helplessly, and pinning me with a disbelieving stare. “Please tell me you know what Christmas is.”
“Like Della said. We know the principal of it.”
“But you’ve never celebrated it yourself?”
This was one of those questions that asked so much more than a simple query. Her tone said she didn’t believe us. Her face said she pitied us if it was true. Her body language said she’d run to her father and tell him regardless of my answer.
I mulled replies in my head. I couldn’t exactly say that our lifestyle meant we didn’t follow dates, only seasons. I couldn’t reveal the full truth that Della had been too young to remember, and I’d never had one since I was sold.
But then again, I could tell her because John Wilson had insisted on the truth, and I’d already told him we’d escaped from a farm that bought children for labour.
I was so used to lying that the truth felt bitter on my tongue. “You know where we came from. Do you honestly think people who buy kids for work would give them Christmas?”
I hadn’t meant my answer to be a bucket of water on the cheery blaze of her excitement, but Cassie’s face fell, her eyes darkened, and she looked at me deeper, harder, wiser than she had before. “You were telling the truth about that. I didn’t think you were.”
I shrugged.
“Can I see?”
“See what?”
“The brand you said is like a cattle mark.”
Della shot toward me, clamping her hand over my hip. “No. He doesn’t show anyone. Only me.”
Cassie held up her hands. “Okay, fair enough. I get it.” Struggling to find her previous light-hearted happiness, she said, “I came here this morning with two messages from my parents. One, today is a day off, and you’re not to work. And two, if you’d like, we’d be honoured to have you join us for Christmas lunch.”
It was my turn for my mouth to fall open. “You want us to join you?”
“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?” She smiled away the sharpness. “But, yes. Do whatever you need, then come to the house. I want to be the first to introduce you to Christmas.”
She left with a smile at Della, lingering glance at me, and the sense that today would mark yet another change, a new adventure, a first experience…for both of us.
* * * * *
“Ren, can I talk to you for a moment?” John Wilson entered the cosy country lounge with large caramel couches and woven rugs where I sat beside Della on the floor beside a giant pine decorated in garish flickering lights and round coloured balls.
Somehow, Della and I had traded our aversion to company and accepted the invitation to Christmas. We’d eaten things we’d never eaten before like buttery brussel sprouts, juicy cranberry turkey, and pecan spun-sugar pie.
My stomach was no longer flat and
hard but bloated with too much food.
It was a luxury I could get used to.
Without thinking, my hand found Della’s head, and my fingers slipped through her long blonde hair. She’d undone her ponytail when the Wilsons had given her a small wicker basket full of ribbons in every colour of the rainbow. She’d compared her blue satin to the purples and pinks and yellows, her face brighter and happier than I’d ever seen.
That fact that the Wilsons had taken notice of her and seen her most prized possession was a tatty, dirty ribbon made my reserved nature falter a little. This family was the exact opposite of the Mclarys, proving good balanced out evil and kindness deleted cruelty.
Patricia Wilson doted on Della, giving her anything she wanted. More lemonade. Another cookie. Teaching her to plait the ribbons together to form one pretty braid. Setting up puzzles and games for Liam and Della to squabble over together.
She’d adopted her, and I’d been in a state of confusion all day thanks to the generosity of these people. I struggled to believe and not try to see past the truth, expecting the same rotting greed like the people I’d run from.
This was the family Della should’ve been born into.
This was the family that taught me not all humans were creatures to run away from.
“Ren?” John cocked his head toward the corridor, hurrying me along.
With a wince, I climbed to my feet, making sure to take the new knife Cassie Wilson had given me from under the tree. I hadn’t expected presents. I didn’t even know people gave gifts without requiring anything in return unless they loved them like I loved Della, but when I’d opened the blade and stroked the goat hide handle, I’d been speechless.
I still hadn’t said thank you, and it ate at me every time Cassie smiled from across the room.
I had a feeling she knew the depth of my gratitude, though.
Her cheeks carried a pinkness that flushed whenever our gazes met. Her smile held a weight that sped up my heart and thickened my blood.
All day, I’d been aware of her and her of me, almost as if we were having a silent conversation while surrounded by our loud-spoken loved ones.
“I’ll be right back.” I looked down at Della.
She beamed. “Okie dokie.”
Chuckling under my breath at the change in her, I followed John Wilson from the comfy lounge full of family laughter and scents of sugar to the spare bedroom where I’d been checked by the doctor.
Once inside, John turned to close the door.
My hackles instantly rose. My hands fisted. The knife in my back pocket heavier and begging to be used. “What are you doing?”
Memories of Mclary taking girls into his house crashed over me. Fear that something similar would happen to me. Terror that all this time, he’d been the one lying, and I’d given him my truth to be used against me.
My breath came quick and fast; my heart exploding in my chest.
“Hey, son, calm down.” John put up his hands, quickly opening the door again. “Easy, easy. Just wanted to have a quick chat in private.”
I gulped back the sudden panic, rubbing my face with a shaking hand. “Sorry.”
Where the hell had such things come from? I was a teenager now, not a boy. I’d lived on my own for years. Why the hell had a closed door made me react so stupidly?
My questions had no answers, and I shoved them to the side as John pulled out a crushed envelope from his back pocket and held it out to me.
I steadied myself before taking it, so he didn’t see my weak tremble. “What’s this?”
He nodded with his chin to open it. “Your first month’s salary. I’ll pay you fortnightly in the summer, but winter is always a little tight with more outgoing than incoming, I’m afraid.”
“Salary?”
Would it reveal how much of an idiot I was if I admitted I didn’t know that word?
Running my thumb under the glue of the envelope, my eyes shot to his when I saw what was inside. “This is money.”
John scowled. “Eh, yes. I know it’s not much, but I’ll give you a few bonuses when we bale and sell the hay in summer.”
I ignored that part and didn’t bother reminding him I wouldn’t be here in summer. All I could focus on was a wad of cash I didn’t have to steal. A wad of cash that was given to me for services rendered.
Cash I’d earned.
My ability to count had drastically improved, but it still wasn’t good enough to flick through the ten and twenty-dollar bills to find out what he’d valued my work at.
But it didn’t matter.
Because I already had something in mind to spend it on.
Passing back the envelope, I said, “Thank you but keep it.”
He refused to take it. “What? Why? You’re my employee. You get how that works, right? You do what I ask, and I pay you for your time.” He looked at me as if I was an imbecile. “I’m not taking it back, Ren.”
“I want to spend it.” I urged him to take it until he reluctantly held out his hand.
“On what?”
“On Della.”
His face softened. “I see. What would you like me to buy her for you?”
I could’ve said trinkets and knickknacks, but we had no space for possessions. The only thing we had space for was education, and I knew how much it meant to her to learn. Every day she’d come home from school, she’d been a hive of energy and buzzing with new things.
I didn’t want to keep that from her.
And the only way I could give it to her was while we had temporary permanency.
“It’s complicated.” I sighed, eyeing him, wondering if this man was as good as he seemed, or if I was about to get myself into a world of trouble.
“Give me complicated and I’ll see if I can make it simple.”
“Okay.” I paced a little, needing to walk and think. “I want Della to go to school, but to do that, she needs people who will say they’re her parents and an address for teachers to know she’s taken care of. I-I can’t give her that.”
John crossed his arms, crinkling the envelope against his side. “So you want us to lie and say she’s ours?”
“I want you to give her a chance, so she can become somebody better than me.”
“Don’t do that,” he said sternly. “Don’t put yourself down. She has a good role model in you, Ren, and if she turns out to be half as noble, then you’ve done well raising her.”
I shrugged, uncomfortable with praise and ready to return to Della. “Will you do it?”
“School doesn’t start back until next week. I can see if there’s room to enrol her. I’ll say we’re her guardians, but her family is her brother, and all communication needs to go through you. Sound fair?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll do that for you, but you need to do something for me in return.”
I froze. “What?”
“Take the damn money.” He held it out. “School is expensive. Not to mention uniforms and books and excursions.”
I backed away from the cash. “I know that. That’s why I’m going to ask another favour.”
“Go on.”
“Keep everything I earn. Never give me a penny. But whatever you feel I’m worth, give it to her. Buy her new clothes. Give her books. Send her to the best school my skills can buy, and you have a deal.”
John Wilson shook his head. “You’re really something, you know that?”
“I know the responsibility I have to Della and mean to fulfil it.”
“She’s very lucky to have you.”
I shrugged again. “And I’m lucky to have her.”
“You know…” His eyes narrowed with thought. “Winter won’t last forever. If she gets into school, she’ll only be there a few weeks if you’re intending to leave in spring.”
My spine slouched.
I hadn’t thought of that.
Here I was planning a future for Della that would end the moment the thaw came. She wanted to leave, but if we did…she’d n
ever have what she deserved.
She’d never read and write properly. She’d never grow up with the skills to make her dreams come true.
I looked out the window at the silver moon on white snow and the silhouettes of trees beckoning me back into their depths.
The urge to run crippled me.
But my love for Della broke me.
She wouldn’t like it.
I would hate it.
But this was about more than what we wanted. This was about what she needed, and any sacrifice was worth that.
Inhaling with steely resolve, I asked, “Do you need a farmhand for summer?”
A half-smile tilted his lips. “A kid with your skills and work ethic? I could use for multiple summers.”
I looked once more out the window, toward the waving boughs of forests and promises of vacant untouched land, and then turned my back on it.
The rivers and forest would still be there.
For now, my role was to give Della everything I had to give.
Holding out my hand, I said, “You have a deal. Help me give Della things I can’t on my own, and I’ll stay for however long you need me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
REN
* * * * * *
2006
“YOU DIDN’T COME to the house last night.”
My head shot up from where I was checking the blades on the hay cutter.
Cassie leaned over the tractor’s front wheel, uncaring that dried mud and horse manure wedged in its big tread. “Where were you?”
I frowned. “Where was I?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded, licking her lower lip, dragging my attention to places it shouldn’t go.
Clearing my throat, I grabbed the rag in my waistband and wiped away the grease on my hands. “In bed. Where I normally am once I’ve finished for the day.”
“You do realise it was New Year’s Eve, right? Dad said he invited you and Della to the house to watch the ball dropping in Times Square on TV.”
“He did invite us.”
“So why didn’t you come?”
I glanced at the door leading toward the room I shared with Della. She’d been helping me all day—sweeping out the tack room, sorting out old bags of feed, and generally doing a tidy up. Poor thing was knackered. I’d found her having a nap face down on the bed when I went for a glass of water, and she hadn’t emerged since.