“Without complaining, that is.”
Haakon tossed the scissors back into the basket. “Hmm. Maybe I’ll just head north.”
Aven pursed her lips to fight a smile. “I’ll take these with us.” She pulled more of the drapes near. “They’ll be easy to work on in my spare time.”
“I appreciate that.” He took up the trimming she’d just cut and absently folded it around his hand. He seemed about to say more but footsteps pounded nearer.
The door burst open with such a crash that they both jumped.
“Haakon! Where are you?” Jorgan stalked into the room. He glanced between them and jerked his head back the way he came. “Come! Now. We’ve got trouble.”
“What is it?” Haakon rose.
“The liquor.”
“What?”
“It’s gone. Every jar.”
THIRTY
Thor stood in the cidery staring at empty shelves. Every level was picked clean, and judging by the state of the floor, not a single one had been dropped. Even the barrels were gone, and a nudge proved the only one lingering to be empty. Overhead, the white owl slept, and though the bird would have seen everything that happened by cover of night, Thor didn’t need a second guess to know who had done this.
They all knew.
But how had the Sorrels been so shrewd? While Thor would be the first to admit that he was useless for sounds in the night, it wasn’t like his brothers to miss an intrusion. Less likely would have been Grete.
Thor lifted his head. Grete.
Had he seen the dog this morning? Not as he’d come out of the house or even as he’d unbolted the cider shed. Always she was underfoot as he did that. Stepping back out, Thor squinted against the sun. He whistled and waited for Haakon’s sidekick to come running. After a minute, he whistled sharper.
Nothing.
Fear slid through him. Thor strode around the side of the barn where Jorgan was looking at the windows that had been removed. Panels of glass sat stacked off to the side, and someone had done a number on the wooden frame.
You see G-R-E-T-E? Thor asked.
Jorgan looked around, then shook his head. He cupped two hands around his mouth and called for her. When the dog didn’t appear, Jorgan arched his back, calling with greater intensity. Still nothing. Face drawn, Haakon rushed up to them.
“Why isn’t she coming?” Haakon strode along the length of the barn, and judging by the way his shoulders heaved, he was hollering for her. Then Haakon slowed, peering up at the sky. Thor lifted his eyes to see a scattering of crows circle the center of the meadow. Their shadows wove in and out on the grasses where something had to be lying just below.
Thor meant to move—do something, anything—but his feet and heart were suddenly leaden with dread. Haakon started into a run. The blackbirds scattered. Reaching the middle of the meadow, Haakon sank to his knees. Hands pressed to the ground, he bowed his head.
A sting clamped Thor’s throat. He took a step forward even as Haakon shifted, checking what had to be Grete there. Bending lower, Haakon tilted his head to the side and listened. He held that way for a long while, then bolted upright. “She’s not dead!”
Thor broke into a jog, and Jorgan followed. Haakon scooped up the dog, stumbling as he righted her weight. “She’s breathin’, but barely. Somethin’s wrong with her.”
“Cora might know what to do,” Jorgan said before running off.
Haakon walked toward the house, Grete limp in his arms. Thor tugged the door open, and Haakon swiveled into the kitchen so quickly that he bumped into the table, sending Ida’s cake pans clattering into one another. He carried Grete into the next room and laid her on the sofa.
Aven moved in beside them. “What happened?”
Fay was right behind her. No one relayed the story—Thor because he wasn’t able to and Haakon because this was his pup. The one he’d gotten for his birthday years back. The one that Cora had tied with a ribbon and plopped into his lap. Grete had flounced about. Chubby and licking him like she’d finally found her way home.
Aven moved to the window, pushing the drapes aside for more light. Fay’s long, blonde braid brushed the dog’s paw as she leaned down to kiss the top of Grete’s head. No one seemed to know what to do, which made it more than a relief when Cora arrived. She set her medic bag beside the sofa, knelt, and took her time examining the dog.
Finally Cora wiped the back of her wrist across her forehead. “I don’t know what this is.” Snapping open her bag, she pulled out an amber bottle and shook it. Uncapping the vial, she lowered it beneath Grete’s nose. The lifting and lowering of the dog’s ribs was so subtle, so sparse, that it was almost as if she were gone. “They gave her somethin’, that’s for sure. All I can think of might be tansy. But I never seen it sedate like this.”
Suddenly everyone looked to the entryway. Thor followed suit and saw the last person he expected to be standing there. Peter.
Quite certain Peter had addressed them, Thor snapped for Jorgan’s help.
Jorgan ran a thumb beneath his chin for not, followed by T-A-N-S-Y.
Peter stepped closer. “It was from a bottle that my pa took from a cabinet.” He reached into his pocket and held it over. “He told me to douse the dog’s supper with it. Said that it would stop her heart, so I just put a tiny bit in.”
Cora took the vial and turned it. Thor read Laudanum on the label. Opium.
In three steps, Haakon shoved him. “You traitor!”
Peter’s head smacked the wall when Haakon shoved again.
“If I hadn’t done it, they would have killed her!” Peter yanked Haakon’s hands away. “Be glad for that.” He tugged his shirt back to rights, flashed Haakon a glare but nothing more.
Peter’s eyes briefly flitted to Cora, and catching her cool, stony gaze, he swallowed hard. From the kitchen Ida watched, her expression much as her sister’s. Flour dusted the woman’s hands that hung limp at her sides. The only hint that she’d had wedding cakes on her mind.
Cora set aside the jar. “If it be opium he gave her, she’ll be back to her old self before long.”
Peter nodded. “And I know where your cider is.” He seemed to take care so as not to look at Al’s mother again. As if the sheer weight of being in the same room as her was the worst of it all.
“Why didn’t you do something to stop them?” Jorgan asked. “Why didn’t you tell us so we could?”
Haakon spoke as well, but Thor missed it.
“Because soon as I started workin’ here, they kept me out of their discussions. Always they were behind closed doors. I knew somethin’ was stewin’, so I looked around your shop to see how secure it was. It seemed solid, so I doubted they could get in.” He braved a small step nearer. “But then last night I knew what they were up to. When talk came of doin’ away with the dog, I offered to handle it myself. I swear, that’s how it went.”
Thor bumped Jorgan in the arm and signed a question for Peter.
Jorgan spoke. “He asked why.”
“Why? ’Cause it ain’t right. What they’re doin’ ain’t right.”
Everyone looked to where Aven was standing, but by the time Thor did as well, he missed what she’d said. He wished he knew her opinion even as he looked back to Peter. This was all going faster than he could manage. Moving to the other side of the room, Thor faced them all so he would see more of what was being spoken.
Peter swallowed hard. “They have your liquor stacked in the back end of our barn. It’s all behind a dummy wall that hid provisions during the war.” When Peter asked for something to draw it up with, Jorgan brought him paper and a pencil.