The Man Who Hated Ned O'Leary (Dig Two Graves 2)

The boy made a sad little whimper but didn’t try to wiggle his way out of Cole’s hold.

“All right over there?” Ned yelled from the campfire they’d set up after a two hours’ ride. They could still see a bright glow where their home had been not that long ago, but that life was now in the past.

They needed to move on. Cole. Ned. And Tommy too.

“He tried to run,” Cole called back. He wanted to be angry and stern, but when tears rolled down Tommy’s dirt-stained cheeks, he exhaled twice and dried the boy’s face with his handkerchief. “I don’t know what you think this is, boy, but if you leave our side, you will die.”

A wolf chose this moment to howl somewhere in the distance, and seeing Tommy flinch at the sound, Cole let his tongue run. “The Wolfman lives in these woods, and he eats children who stray away from adults. Do you want to end up as his dinner?”

Tommy took a choked intake of breath and shook his head.

“I thought not,” Cole mumbled and ruffled the pale, curly hair. “Now come with me and eat something.”

He led Tommy back by the arm, but the boy didn’t fight him anymore. He wouldn’t have been an opponent for Cole anyway, but it wasn’t as if Cole wanted to beat a kid into submission.

Ned stood up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He must have dozed off on watch.

“Sorry, I closed my eyes for just a moment.” He glanced at Tommy. “Won’t do you no good, kid. There’s not a soul for miles.”

“Just us. And the Wolfman,” Cole added and made the kid sit on the bedroll they’d found on Zeb’s horse. It had seen better days but was still warm enough to use and would make the night a bit more comfortable. “What do you like to eat, huh?” Cole asked and covered the tiny shoulders with a blanket. Tommy’s presence was unsettling, and while he hadn’t decided what to do about him yet, one thing was certain—they couldn’t leave him to perish in the mountains.

“It’s not like there’s much choice,” Ned grumbled with a shrug and served the boy a piece of freshly roasted meat in a flatbread from Zeb’s supplies.

They hadn’t managed to salvage anything from the burning house, but Ned had some canned food stashed in the barn. Those wouldn’t last them long, but they’d set out as soon as possible in order to reach the doctor in the morning.

Dog kept whining in pain and had been resting at Ned’s side since they’d made camp in the small clearing. Cole believed this attempt at saving him was a fool’s errand, but every time he wanted to open his mouth and outright say they ought to end the poor beast’s suffering, Ned fed his pet a morsel, spoke to it, or looked at it like a father might at his child, and the sincere yet cruel words got stuck in Cole’s throat.

This animal has been Ned’s only companion for a long time, so who was Cole to make that decision for him?

Tommy shuddered and stared at the food as if he feared it to be laced with poison, so Cole took the sandwich from him, bit in, and handed it back once he swallowed. “See? Good to eat.”

Tommy hung his head but dug in reluctantly.

Ned sighed, staring into the fire while the dark woods around them creaked and hummed with the occasional calls of nocturnal animals. “We might be bad men, but we won’t hurt you, kid.”

What they’d do with him though, they hadn’t agreed on yet, but that would have to wait until after the boy was asleep.

Tommy took a shuddery breath and signed so frantically Cole had to ask him to repeat it at a slower pace. When the meaning behind the gestures sank in, Cole hunched forward in dismay.

[You left Zeb to die.]

“He tried to kill us and Ned still decided to leave him with a small chance. I say that counts for something,” Cole said and when Ned handed him another portion of food, he settled close to the fire and relaxed his shoulders, smelling the burning wood and the smoky aroma of meat. He could only hope wolves didn’t decide it was a good night for hunting.

[Why not kill me?] The boy was slower with his gestures this time, but the empty look in his eyes still chilled Cole to the bone.

He swallowed, fighting the urge to squeeze his hands into fists around the sandwich. Whatever Tommy had been through in his brief life, it had made him eerily aware of the finality of his own existence. Children should not think that way.

Cole cleared his throat. “Because hurting little boys is wrong. We were both like you once, Ned and I. Orphans with no one to look after us. But good people gave us a hand when we needed it the most. If you don’t believe in kindness, think of it as us giving back.”