“Olive?” Jude ignores me and addresses the little girl. “What’s going on here?”
My eyes widen as I turn my back on Jude to face Olive. Erica, still holding her hand, pats her head. “She just told you,” Erica replies sternly. “The question is, why are you here?”
“Because I don’t trust either one of you,” she gripes.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to poison you,” I laugh. “You’ve eaten my food before and never had a problem, and Olive here wanted to help, right kiddo?”
Jude focuses back on Olive and folds her arms over her chest and says, “Well? Speak child!”
“We’re baking bread,” Olive says with a defiant tone. I’d like to think she gets that from me, being her aunt and all, because she sure as shit doesn’t get it from Erica. “I’m going to help roll the dough, Aunty Amber says I’m good at it.”
“Yes you are,” I coo, hoping her admission will make Jude fuck the hell off. “So, thanks for your concern and all but?—”
“Why does she have that?” Jude points toward Olive; the little rucksack that Erica packed with some warm clothes, water and snacks is beside their feet where Erica dropped it.
“She’s having a sleepover tonight, if Vince allows it,” I lie. “Are there any more questions, Jude? This is starting to feel like an interrogation.”
“Like I said, I don’t trust you,” she says. “I think you two are up to something, you’re always whispering in corners to each other, scheming something.”
“That’s because we like each other,” Erica finally speaks. “I’ve known her all her life, I’ll protect her like she’s my own blood. I’m sorry you don’t have that kind of relationship with any of your sisters.”
“What are you protecting her from exactly?” Jude demands. “We’re your family, not her!”
An engine. I hear it…
“Well, we’d love to stay and chat, but?—”
“I think I’ll go find Steven and see if he approved this sleepover,” she sniffs. “It sounds like another excuse for the two of you to keep Olive away from the family.” She’s blocking our exit, and we can’t have that.
“Really?” I say, my hands balling into fists. “Did you come up with that all by yourself?”
“Always the smart mouth. Haven’t you learned to keep that big mouth of yours shut? Maybe if you did, you could’ve given your husband the child he’s always wanted instead of being a vile, barren, pathetic excuse for a wife. Not to mention a horrible little piece of work who can’t even cook?—”
My arm swings before she finishes the sentence, connecting with her face. I don’t even think, I just launch into attack mode, socking her again straight in the middle of her nose as she yelps and falls backwards.
Erica shrieks, as does Olive. My sister-in-law covers Olive’s eyes as I make sure Jude lands safely, and is still breathing. I turn back to them. “Give me something to gag her with and tie her to the machinery.”
Erica is staring at me in shock as Olive hides in her momma’s chest. I didn’t want her to witness that, but I had no choice. Plus, I’ve had a decade of her insults and one can only take so much.
“Erica!”
“Okay!” They fetch some rope and I drag Jude unceremoniously over to the tractor tire, securing the rope around it tightly. I take my cap off and stuff it in her mouth, securing that with a smaller length of rope in case she wakes up and alerts the entire village to what we’ve done.
“Oh, my God!” Erica is shaking, comforting Olive as they stare at Jude behind the tractor.
“I’m sorry!” I spit, feeling far from it. “But she was going to tell Steven and we’d be burned at the stake if she’d gotten away. I can hear the van… let’s move.”
Eventually someone will come looking, and my makeshift ties won’t hold her forever.
“You’re out of your mind,” Erica chastises me. “And just how did you learn to swing like that?”
“I’m my father’s daughter,” I tell her cryptically.
We sneak out of the barn around to the side, out of sight just as the van comes into view. With horror, I realize it’s not Carlo who parks for a moment.Great, could anything else go wrong?
The older man opens the back of the van and pulls out a sack of flour, heaving it over his shoulder as he moves toward the barn. I did a pretty good job of making sure Jude couldn’t be seen from the doorway, but if she’s woken by now, she could stir enough noise to gain his attention.
“Let’s go!” I whisper as we run across the grass toward the vehicle. I look inside, realizing there’s two more bags of flour. “Hide around the side until he’s done.”