Free Reaper's Vow by Sarah McCarty Page B

journey to his fingertips.
    â€œTaking Miss Addy away from Mister Isaiah would be very bad.”
    â€œI’m stewing on it.”
    â€œMister 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.
    â€œShe does, huh?”
    The kid nodded. “He loves her, and that’s a gift Mama says.”
    â€œI 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.
    â€œWhat makes you think I can?”
    â€œMama says you just have to want to, and it happens.”
    â€œMaybe 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.”
    â€œWe’ll make a concession tonight because it’s hard to see.”
    â€œThe 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.
    â€œTake three steps forward,” he told her. It was too much to expect instant obedience.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause you’re cold, and I took my coat off, and I’d like to wrap it around you.”
    â€œIt’ll be too big.”
    â€œThink 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.
    â€œYou 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.
    â€œI do, huh?”
    â€œLike horse and the woods outside.”
    He’d never been described that way.
    â€œDolly likes it,” she declared as if that decided everything.
    â€œShe does, huh?”
    He rubbed his hands up and down her back as she shivered again.
    â€œYou should have gotten dressed before you left.”
    â€œMy coat was in the room with Mommy.”
    â€œSo how’d you get out?”
    â€œJenny’s house has a real window.”
    He made a note that if he ever had kids, no windows in their room.
    â€œHer mama insisted on it in case there’s a fire.”
    He changed his mind. He wanted windows in his kid’s room.
    â€œGood 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.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” he asked.
    â€œWendy.”
    â€œHello, 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.
    â€œHow 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?
    â€œAll 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.
    â€œWhich 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