A Merciful Promise (Mercy Kilpatrick #6)(31)

As Mercy and her siblings had done.

It wasn’t a bad way to grow up, but she had longed for the toys that other kids had.

These kids don’t have anyone to be envious of.

But the camp had been active for only about a year. Surely these children had had toys before that. They had to miss those.

She didn’t see Noah or Eden. Since Jason had said he’d been visiting, she assumed the two children were inside. Mercy stepped out from behind a tree and was immediately spotted by Olivia, who alerted the others. The kids stopped their play and stared at her in silence.

It was slightly creepy to approach the group of soundless kids. It was as if someone had flipped off a switch. The children were young; Mercy doubted anyone was older than ten. Their faces were dirty, and a few were barefoot, their toes brown with dirt. Mercy hoped they had shoes for the cold.

“Hi, Olivia,” she said to the one child she knew.

Olivia smiled. She touched her pink hat and nodded but didn’t say anything this time. Mercy wondered if the kids had been taught not to speak when adults were present.

“Is Noah around?”

Olivia pointed at the cabin, and the other children resumed their game as Mercy passed by. She glanced at the hopscotch squares. Something was wrong about the squares, but she couldn’t put a finger on it.

The door to the cabin was open, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. Noah was curled up on a thin mat in the corner, his body looking bony under his thin shirt and pants. The sight stirred a long-hidden memory in Mercy’s mind.

My mother checking on a sick child. I was with her.

Mercy couldn’t have been more than ten.

The thin little boy had been sleeping on the floor like Noah.

The home had smelled like pork. And cabbage. Four other children had spied on Mercy and her mother from a loft above the main room. Her mother had been very worried about the boy. Mercy could tell from her tone as she talked to the child’s mother.

Eden sat beside Noah, leaning against the wall, a toddler asleep against her shoulder. Her sharp eyes immediately locked on Mercy’s. A woman held another child as she slowly swayed back and forth in a creaking rocking chair.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked quietly as she gestured that the child was sleeping. Her face was narrow, and her dark hair hung limply around her face. She looked very young.

“Are you Sadie?” Mercy whispered.

“I am. Are you here for Noah?”

Word got around fast.

“Yes. I’ve got something for his fever. I ran into his father on the path just now, and he said to do whatever I could to help his son.”

The young woman nodded. “What do you have?”

“Children’s Tylenol.”

The rocking stopped. “That’s okay?”

“Jason said to do whatever. Why? Has Noah experienced a bad reaction to it?”

“He’s had it before.” Eden spoke up. “My mom gave it to him.” She fastened a stare on Mercy. “It will make him feel better?”

“I’ve told them we should have medicine on hand for the little ones,” Sadie said quietly. “No one listens to me.” She stood and took the sleeping toddler to a small crib in the back of the cabin, where she gently laid her down.

Mercy knelt next to Noah, who opened his eyes, and she offered him the pills. “Chew them up. They’ll help with your ear pain,” she told him.

He chewed, and his eyes lit up at the grape flavor.

“Good boy.” Mercy ruffled his hair. She caught Eden watching her carefully. “Hopefully he’ll perk up within a half hour.”

“I’ll take Jenny now.” Sadie held her arms out for the toddler snuggled against Eden’s shoulder. Eden handed off the tiny one with practiced ease, making Mercy miss her new nephew. Rose’s son, Henry, was a happy, bubbly baby, and Mercy couldn’t get enough of the smell of his baby head. There was nothing else like it. Warmth, innocence, and sunshine all wrapped up in a perfect scent.

“Eden, can you introduce me to the other children?” Mercy asked. “They didn’t talk to me as I walked by.”

Sadie had settled back in the rocking chair with the second toddler, and Mercy wanted to talk to Eden alone. The teenager nodded, and Mercy followed her back out into the sunshine. According to nearby shouts, the children were playing hide-and-seek in the forest.

That ill boy Mercy had visited with her mother had been sicker than Noah. Mercy had felt his body heat from several feet away. He wouldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t lift his head.

Her mother had been angry with the boy’s mother. Why?

Mercy set the memory aside.

“Eden, can you tell me more about Noah not speaking? You mentioned he spoke ‘before.’ When was ‘before’?” They stopped next to the abandoned hopscotch.

“Before my mother left,” Eden stated.

“She left,” Mercy repeated. “Like moved away?” Please don’t tell me she died.

“Yes.” Eden kept her gaze straight ahead. “It was right before we moved here. Noah hasn’t spoken since.”

“I’m very sorry about that. Where did you live before here?”

“John Day,” the girl stated, naming a town about an hour south.

“Sometimes traumatic events like a move or a parent leaving will make a young child’s behavior change.”