“Your… past?” I whisper, my throat suddenly tight with fear. This is starting to sound like more than just a terrible accident.
“Yes.” Straightening in his chair, Daddy shifts, his dark gaze locking on me. “Our last name hasn’t always been Thorne. We were born into the Kincaid crime family, and our father was the leader.”
Ho. Lee. Crap. “You were in themob?”
Daddy’s beard twitches. “Our parents were. Axel had just graduated college and started working in the… family business when our uncle decided to stage a bloody, violent coup. He got to our parents first, but somehow we all managed to escape. We fled our home, changed our names, and eventually ended up here in Colorado. Our friend Gunther helped us with a fresh start, forging the papers we needed for our new identities, with backgrounds deep enough to pass even the most stringent of checks. We made a home here, started a business, and eventually built something of a logging empire.”
“I’m so, so sorry. That must have been so hard for you. For all of you.”
Sadness flickers across his face. “It was. But like I said, it was a long time ago, and we’ve built a life here I think our parents would be proud of.”
The remaining siblings share a look so full of grief and love it almost feels like I’m intruding on something unbearably intimate just to see it. But then Uncle Eli steps back into the dining room holding a bottle of what appears to be milk, and the mood instantly shifts.
“Enough talk of the past,” he says firmly. “You still have one final Chivaree present, little one. This is from your Auntie Gray.”
Confused, I watch as Uncle Eli passes the bottle to Auntie Gray. Daddy unbuckles me from my chair, and I glance up at him as he carries me to the end of the table and settles me on his sister’s lap.
“Drink up, sweet Tabby,” Auntie Gray murmurs, her lips curving in a soft smile as she presses the rubber tip of the bottle to my mouth.
Just like with the pacifier, I give the nipple a tentative suck. Deliciously sweet, cold milk floods my mouth and I suck again, this time with more enthusiasm.
Auntie Gray grins down at me, and then up at my Daddy. “We really should talk to Maxwell about getting a couple cows for ourselves. Your little one seems to like their milk very much.”
“Oh, Daddy, can we get a cow?” Lanie pleads, her voice borderline desperate. “I’ve always wanted a cow! I love them so much!”
“Ah, well…” Uncle Axel clears his throat. “I’m not sure we’re properly equipped to care fortheseparticular cows.”
“Why not?” There’s a hint of insult in Josie’s tone, as if she’s taking it personally that our family doesn’t have the capacity to raise farm animals. “It can’t possibly be that hard.”
Someone snorts, and from the corner of my eye, I see Uncle Ford drive his elbow into Uncle Dane’s side.
Honestly, I’m with my fellow Littles on this. Whatever kind of cows these are, I want as much of their milk as I can get. It’sdelicious.
“It’s not about the difficulty, lovebug,” Uncle Bram says with a chuckle. “It’s about the cows themselves. They aren’t exactly your standard breed of cow.”
“Well what kind are they? I can do the research if the rest of you are too lazy.”
“Josie…”
Ignoring the warning in her Daddy’s tone, Josie throws her hands in the air. “What? I’m just offering to help!”
“What your Daddies aretryingto say,” Auntie Gray interjects with a roll of her eyes, “is that the island cows aren’t actuallycows. They’re women who have been brought to the island to live as cows.”
“Oh.” Lanie’s brows furrow for a moment before her eyes go wide as saucers. “Oh.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Voice pitching up to a high-pitched squeak, Josie looks from Auntie Gray to her Daddy and back again. “Are you saying we’ve been sucking downbreast milkthis whole time?”
“That is exactly what I’m saying, yes,” Auntie Gray says, seemingly completely unperturbed.
I should be horrified. And deep down, I sorta am. But honestly, the milk is so good I’m not really sure I care where it came from, as long as I get to drink my fill.
“I… I think I changed my mind about wanting a cow, Daddy.” Lanie’s voice is strained, and Uncle Axel chuckles as he lifts her out of her highchair.
“Probably for the best. I imagine it would get very cold in the barn for those types of cows.”
A loud knock on the front door interrupts the very, very strange conversation happening around me and Uncle Ford jumps up from his chair. “Thank god. I’ll go see who it is.”
“Just as well, this greedy Little girl has finished her bottle anyway,” Auntie Gray teases as she pulls the bottle from my mouth. “Do you want to burp her, Colt?”
