Free Lara's Gift by Annemarie O'Brien Page B

questions hid behind the gold leaf of the painting.
    “Zola shouldn’t be left alone,” I said.
    Papa tried to ignore me. Quick to remind him about his own Rules, I added, “Golden Rule Number Three: Never walk away from a borzoi giving birth.”
    Papa threw his arms in the air. “Nobody’s going to work overnight on a hunch, waiting for puppies that may or may not come.”
    “I will.” It was time I prove Papa wrong about my gift.
    “Your mama needs you, as does your brother,” Papa said.
    “Mama said she’d be fine.”
    Papa frowned and his gray eyes looked as cold as a winter storm.
    “Mama understands me,
Tyatya
. I thought you did, too.”
    “This isn’t the life I want for you.” He tucked the loose strands of my hair behind my ears. As he put on his sheepskin coat, he cleared his throat, and raised one finger high into the air. “I don’t think the pups will come tonight, and to prove
you
wrong, I’ll let you stay with Zola. Just this once. If the pups don’t come tonight, then you’re to forget about the dogs and devote your full attention to helping your mama. Agreed?”
    “And what if the pups come?”
    Papa took another long, hard look at Zola resting peacefully in the straw. “The pups won’t come tonight,” he answered. “Of that I’m certain. Should a miracle occur, I’ll gladly reveal the secret behind Golden Rule Number Eight.”
    Before he could change his mind, I snatched his hand and shook it, for as much as I had begged him in the past to tell me what hid behind Golden Rule Number Eight, I never could wrench it out of him.
    “Are we done? I have work.” Papa let go of my hand and as he hurried off, he turned to me, and almost as an afterthought, he added, “If the pups come tonight, you know where to find me.”
    A big smile came to my face. “Not
if
,
Tyatya
,
when
.”

CHAPTER NINE
 
    Chara
    Outside, under a glowing full moon, the north wind whistled and beat against the stable windows, as swirls of snow tossed in the air like long fluttering ribbons—flying higher and higher until they faded into the inky darkness of the night sky. I quickly lost myself in the vanishing trails of windswept snow. If only the north wind could swoop up my baby brother and make
him
disappear.
    I chastised myself for such a dreadful thought and prayed the spirits wouldn’t come for little Bohdan.
    “All right, Zar. Let’s get ready.” It was Zola’s night, and I needed to make preparations. Golden Rule Number Two—Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.
    I kindled the stove and stoked the fire, for the pups would need the extra warmth. Red-orange flames roaredand a blast of hot air hit my face. I pulled out the medicine box and gathered clean cotton towels and some healing herbs. From deep inside my pocket I pulled out Alexander’s knife and polished the metal blade until I could see my reflection, in case I had to cut an umbilical cord or pup’s sac. Then I sorted through a pile of bear hides trimmed with black velvet, picking the fluffiest one to line the birthing nest. I took another for myself and laid it on the straw next to Zola.
    Her dark eyes opened just a bit as she lifted her head, just long enough to take notice of the fuss I made, before letting it flop back down on the straw.
    “You’ll be okay, girl.” Slowly, I glided my hand along her big belly in search of movement inside.
    Nothing.
    Who knew how long I would have to wait, but I didn’t care as long as I remained united with Zar and the other borzoi. So I found a cozy position with Zar curled up next to me, pawing my pocket for meat.
    “All gone.” I let him see my empty hands as proof, for borzoi trusted no other sense more than their eyes.
    Zar let out a soft moan and nudged my hand.
    “Silly boy,” I said. “If I had any meat, it would go to Zola. She’s got the tough job ahead of her.”
    At the sound of her name, Zola stood and shook the strands of straw loose from her fur. A thin greenish discharge