Venn took one of his lightweight blankets and made some adjustments to turn it into a sling for the baby. He was thanking the fates for his sisters, who had asked him to watch his nieces so often. When he offered to carry the baby, though, Vera shook her head. “You should keep your hands free.”
He knew what she meant—he needed to be ready to fight if anything came at them—but he couldn’t help but wiggle his eyebrows as he lifted the makeshift carrier. “That’s why I made this.”
Sarah giggled—probably more from his theatrics than the actual words—and even Finn’s mouth twitched. Venn considered that a victory.
Vera rolled her eyes. “Just show me how to use it.”
Venn strode over, standing close to her as he put the carrier on her. He tied the sling over one shoulder and under her other arm, and every time his knuckles brushed against her body, warmth flooded him.
He double-checked the knots before finally stepping back. “It’s secure.”
Vera still supported little Rebecca with one arm beneath the sling, but she tossed him a small grin. “You’re very useful, Venn Grannard.”
He tried not to let the compliment settle too deeply. He threw her a wink. “I try.” Then he turned to Sarah and Finn. “Are you two ready?”
Sarah pointed to the horse. “I can ride?”
“Of course!” He held out his arms and Sarah beamed as she jumped into them. Venn lifted her onto the saddle, a hand steadying her back as she grasped the saddle horn. He looked to Finn. “Will you ride with her? You can help steady her.”
Finn looked reluctant, but he nodded.
Venn lifted him up, setting him behind Sarah. Finn wrapped one arm around his sister, the other grasping tightly at the saddle horn. Venn patted the boy’s knee. “Easy, no reason to tense. The horse is gentle, and I’ll be right here. We’ll go slow.”
They didn’t have another choice, really.
Fates, what will Bennick and Wilf think if they make it to Duvan before us?
That was a problem for another day, he decided.
Amuchlater day, he soon decided, because they truly made terrible time.
The children required frequent stops. Sarah usually needed to visit the nearest bush, and Finn needed to pace out his anxiety after being on the horse. Rebecca needed to be fed often, and there was no easy way to do that while moving.
Venn fed her now while Vera walked Sarah behind a bush.
Venn was relieved to see Rebecca’s eyes open. He and Vera had taken turns feeding her through the days and nights, and that had done a lot to revive her. She was a fighter, that was certain. But then, all three children were.
Finn’s hand was on his belted knife as he walked in front of Venn, stretching out his legs.
Venn nodded to the blade. “Was that your father’s?”
The boy’s grip on the knife flexed. “Yes. He gave it to me when he left for Zahdir.”
“You said he left before the baby was born. How soon before?”
Finn stopped pacing, his eyes on Venn. “I don’t know. A couple of days. He didn’t know the baby was coming, though. She came early.”
Perhaps that was another reason why Rebecca was so small in his hands. “How long did your mother live after the baby was born?” he asked.
“Maybe a week.” Finn’s jaw firmed. “I know you think my father isn’t coming back. That he’s dead. But he isn’t. Maybe he got lost, or sick. Sarah was sick, for a while, just like Mama, so maybe that happened to him, too. But he isn’t dead.”
“I hope you’re right.” And maybe David Holm had gotten sick, or delayed in getting help. But the time just didn’t make sense. He’d been gone too long. The man was either dead, or he’d chosen to leave his wife and children to die. But he didn’t voice these thoughts.
“We’ll find him on the road,” Finn said. “He’ll be heading back for us.”
Venn dipped his head, silently acknowledging his words. “When you left Lythe, was your destination always the refugee camp in Zahdir?”
“No. We didn’t know about Salvation until right before Mama got sick. Before that, we were heading to Duvan.”
