The Boy and His Ribbon (The Ribbon Duet, #1)(5)

I also couldn’t take her back because by now the Mclarys would’ve given up looking on their own estate and headed three farms down for the deer hunter dogs that could sniff out prey for miles.

The river wouldn’t be taking a life tonight, but it would be saving one.

A quiet scream cut through the trees and bracken, followed by a hushed cry. Unless I’d heard such a thing, I wouldn’t believe a scream could be quiet or a cry hushed.

But Baby Mclary managed it.

She also managed to haul my ass up and send me rocketing back to her to slap my hand over her gaping little mouth to shut her up.

The hounds would be on our tail.

I hated that I’d left it this long to remember that would be the next step of Mclary’s plan. We didn’t need any more bad luck on our side by her calling out to them.

“Shut up,” I hissed, my fingers gripping her pudgy cheeks.

Her blue eyes widened, glistening with tears and uncertain as a fawn’s.

“We need to leave.” I shook my head, cursing her for the thousandth time for making me a we.

I should be leaving. I should be running, swimming, hiding.

But because I couldn’t solve this problem, she’d have to come with me until I could.

She hiccupped behind my palm, a tentative tongue licking the salt from my skin. She squirmed a little, her two miniature hands reaching up to latch around my wrist, holding me tighter, slurping wildly as if starved for any nutrition.

Which she was.

So was I.

I was past the point of hunger, but I was used to such a condition.

She was a spoilt breast fed baby who didn’t understand the slicing pain in her chubby belly.

Tearing my hand away, I bared my teeth as her bottom lip wobbled and tears welled again.

Pointing sternly between her eyes, I snarled, “If you cry, I’m leaving you behind. You’re hungry? Well, so are many other creatures who will gladly eat you for supper.”

She blinked, wriggling deeper into the backpack and crushing my cheese.

“Oi!” My fingers dove into the bag, pushed her aside, and rescued the badly sat on cheese. “This is all we have; don’t you understand?”

She licked her lips, eyes wide on the unappetizing curdled mess.

I hugged it to my chest, possession and unwillingness to share rising in me. Feeding time in the barn meant the tentative bonds we might have with the other slave children were non-existent. We might trade holey blankets or borrow fourth-hand shoes, but food? No way. You fight for a scrap or you die.

There were no hand-outs.

Her fingers clutched at her blue ribbon, over and over again as her belly gurgled almost as loudly as mine. Her ugly face scrunched up with the beginnings of another scream.

My shoulders tensed. Violence bubbled. I honestly didn’t know what I’d do if she cried and didn’t shut up.

But as her lips spread and lungs inflated for noise, she tilted her head and looked right into my soul. She paused as if giving me a choice, a threat—a conniving weasel just like her mother and father.

And once again, I had no choice.

Tension slipped from my spine as I sank into realization that from here on out, I would have to share everything. My shelter. My food. My energy. My life. She wouldn’t thank me. She wouldn’t appreciate it. She would expect it just like every filly, calf, kitten, or puppy expected their parent to ensure its survival.

“I hate you,” I whispered as I looked through the trees for any sign of company. My ears twitched for any sound of baying hounds as my fingers tore open the plastic and pinched the warm, smelly cheese between them.

My mouth watered so much I almost drooled as I raised the morsel out of its bag. My legs shook to eat, knowing they had a long trek ahead of them.

But blue eyes never left my face, condemning me for even thinking about eating.

“I hate you,” I reminded her. “I’ll always hate you. So don’t you ever forget it.”

Ducking on my haunches, I shoved my hand in her face.

Instantly, a grimace twisted her lips in a strange sort of smile as her hands came up, latched once again around my wrist, and a tiny, wet mouth covered my fingertips.

She pulled back a second later, spitting and complaining, red fury painting her blotchy cheeks. She scowled at the cheese in my fingers then me, looking far older than her young age.

I scowled right back, fighting every instinct to eat what she’d refused. “This is all we have until we get somewhere safer.” I pushed it toward her mouth again before I could steal it. “Eat it. I won’t give you the chance again.”

She took a moment. An endless moment while she cocked her head this way and that like a sparrow, then finally swayed forward and licked the cheese from my hold.

Her fingers never stopped twirling her ribbon, hypnotizing me as she quickly lapped at the miniscule offering and sat back in silence.

I didn’t speak as I broke off another cube and placed it on my tongue. A moan of sheer delight escaped me as my body rushed to transform taste into energy and get me the hell away from here.

I wanted more.

I wanted the whole thing.

I wanted every can of beans and every bottle of water I’d been able to steal.

But even though it cost me, even though my hands shook with a brutal battle to seal the plastic and place it in the backpack with her, I managed.

Grabbing the sides of the canvas’s zipper, I looked her dead in the eye. “We’re going for a swim, so the dogs can’t smell us. You’re probably going to get wet and cold, and there’s nothing I can do about it, so don’t cry. You cry, and I’ll leave you for the bears.”