Page 40 of Dancing On Air

“They don’t want me there,” said the boy stubbornly. “I’m going to live in the woods from now on. Or maybe here?” He flashed a quick smile, still holding the pear.

“Like hell you are,” Connor responded, finally releasing the boy. “I have enough mouths to feed and don’t need another one.”

“I can help bring you food,” said Finnian, taking another bite of the fruit.

“I don’t want stolen food.” Connor didn’t sound like he was going to budge with his decision.

“Mayhap it would be better if Finnian stayed here with you until things cooled down in town,” suggested Eleanor. “At least, no one would ever come here to look for him.”

“Over my dead body.” Connor stretched out his arm and pointed in the direction of the road. “Go back home and take the punishment you deserve. Once and for all, you are not staying here.”

“Fine,” said Finnian, finishing off the pear and throwing the core over the side of the wagon. He hopped down and brushed the hay off his clothes. “I’ll go back, because even if no one likes me there, they still like you even less.” With that, he turned and ran from the cottage toward the road.

“Eleanor, we really should get back and collect the girls,” said Raven. “It’s not fair to leave them with the Woods family this long.”

“Aye,” agreed Lark. “Besides, I canna wait to show Florie what I got her.” She pulled the rag doll out from under the hay and picked off a few strands.

“What’s that?” asked Ginevra, coming closer to see it. Her big eyes devoured the doll as she looked at it with longing.

“This is a doll for my daughter,” said Lark.

“She is a beautiful doll.” Ginevra’s eyes were fastened to it. “I had a doll my mother made me when I was a child, but it’s gone now.”

“Ginevra, you’re eleven. You’re too old for dolls,” said Leoric with a roll of his eyes. “Can I have a pear?”

“Sure,” Eleanor answered. “Can you take the bushel of pears into the house?”

“I sure can.” The boy jumped up on the back of the wagon to get it.

“I want to help,” said Alaric, trying to get up there but being too short to do it.

“Here you go, Alaric.” Connor reached down and pulled the little boy up atop the wagon by one arm. Then, he hopped down and brushed his hands together. “The pears look good, but you really shouldn’t have done that, Eleanor.”

“Why not? Your family needs to eat,” said Eleanor. “I brought you another gift as well.” She reached over and picked up the chicken and held it out. “This is to make chicken soup. It’ll be good for your father.”

“Chicken soup?” Leoric licked his lips. “I can’t wait.”

“Ginevra, do you think you can make chicken soup?” asked Connor, taking the bird and handing it to his sister. Her eyes were still fastened to the doll in Lark’s grasp.

“Yes. Yes, I can do that.”

“Then go. Both of you,” said Connor, sending Leoric and Ginevra into the cottage. Alaric sat on the end of the wagon kicking his feet back and forth.

“Here are a few other things.” Raven handed Connor the bag from the chandler’s shop next.

Connor curiously looked inside. “Beeswax candles? We live in a hut of wattle and daub, not a church. These are only for the rich and the clergy.”

“I know. But I thought the scented candles would be a special treat for you,” said Eleanor. “To help ease all the stress your family is going through.”

“Since soap doesn’t ease stress, I am guessing you are saying I smell bad and need to wash?” Connor held up the soap and raised a brow.

“Nay. Not at all,” said Eleanor, feeling suddenly embarrassed since that wasn’t her intent.

“Show him the rest.” Lark reached over to the wagon and held up a big corked jar of honey. “This should go good when you’re making the pies.”

“I see.” Connor took the jar, staring at it, not able to say the words thank you, but neither did Eleanor care. She just felt good to be helping out his family.

“I suppose we’d better go now,” said Eleanor. “I don’t want to impose on Mr. and Mrs. Woods by leaving the girls there too long.”