Page 16 of Vaquero
Craig guffawed and slapped his thigh. “You should see the look on your face. Ha! No. Look over there.” He pointed to the far side of the camp, where, behind the sheet of canvas stretched between two trees, one long-horned red and white cow stood quietly chewing its cud.
Okay. That made better sense. “You have a cow,” Julio said flatly.
“Had two before Oz ran us out. Bought the first from a farmer in the village. This one was a stray. Found her over on the next hillside. Couldn’t just leave her there, could I?”
Julio lowered the bread inside his shirt to Dom’s lips. “No. These kids need her. Good thinking.”
“The Lord provides in times of need,” Craig answered on a sigh. “Marta and I just go where He tells us to go.”
Craig made living sound easy. Julio wished it were.
“It’s magic bread,” Julio whispered to Dom, teasing the boy’s dry lips with the buttery morsel. “It’ll make you grow strong like... like Meg. You want to be like her, don’t you?”
The little guy nodded. Not vehemently. Just barely.
“Aw, will you look at that. I think he likes you,” Craig murmured, peering over Julio’s shoulder and into his shirt at Dom.
“Feel like sitting up? It might be easier to eat,” Julio asked.
Again with the barely perceptible nod of agreement. This time, the tip of Dom’s tongue passed over his lower lip. He was hungry. Julio could tell.
He handed the piece of bread back to Craig. “I think he’s thirsty. Would you please dip the end of this bread into my juice? Maybe he’ll take it that way.”
After Craig did as asked, Julio tried again, maneuvering that moistened piece of bread inside his shirt to the little guy’s dry lips. “Here you go. Suck on this for a second. See if—”
It worked. Dom craned his skinny neck forward, latched onto that crust, and slurped and moaned and…
Tears sprang to Julio’s eyes. Damn it. He was bawling over nothing. Dom wasn’t out of the woods by a long shot. He needed much more than one crust of bread to live, but… He. Was. Eating!
“These kids all had rickets when we arrived,” Craig muttered confidentially. “That’s why the orange drink. It’s fortified with calcium and vitamin D, lots of other good things. Your American Aid society sees that we get a shipment of supplies every month. All we have to do is go into town to pick it up. But with Oz’s army patrolling the roads lately, we haven’t been able to. We’re on our last box.”
Could that be all that troubled Dominic? Rickets? Julio knew the symptoms. Tenderness in joints, bones, muscles. Deformed and missing teeth. Bowlegs. Diminished growth. Shortness in stature. Stunted growth that could make a five-year-old look like a two-year-old.
“Did Dom drink it before Oz kidnapped him?” Julio needed to know.
“He was supposed to. They all got their fair share. I know. I measured it out every morning.”
But that didn’t mean this little guy had actually drunk his fair share. But he would from now on. And what about the other children Oz had enslaved and kept in the dark tunnels of his mines? Where were they? Had they succumbed to the effects of the lack of sunlight, which was how most people’s bodies took in sufficient daily doses of vitamin D?
Julio stuck his tongue out at the child in his arm, slurping the soggy bread, needing Dominic to crack another smile. Some of the orange juice trickled around the little fellow’s lips to Julio’s belly. But, for the first time in a long, long time, something deep inside his chest cracked open. Not a broken rib. More like a broken heart. This right here, this little boy trying to stay alive, was all Julio had ever wanted with Tomas. A little hope. The smallest smile. Another chance to prove a father’s love.
Julio stifled the long-denied tenderness washing over him now. He didn’t want to break down and cry. It might frighten Dom, and Julio couldn’t stand the thought of hurting this tiny prizefighter. He’d been through too much. But how Julio dared anyone to tell him Dominic couldn’t make it.
As if he could read Julio’s mind, the kindly gentleman sitting beside him wrapped a firm arm around his shoulder. “You go ahead and cry if you want, son,” Craig murmured huskily. “It isn’t often we see our prayers answered, is it?”
Julio stiffened at the fatherly touch. But SEALs did not break down. They just didn’t. They stood brave and strong at all times. They were America’s strongest, meanest, and toughest warriors. The absolute best America had to offer. Only Julio wasn’t a SEAL. He’d rung out.
He blinked rapidly to dispel the notion that a good cry solved everything. Too bad Julio looked down at the baby boy tucked inside his shirt then. Dominic’s eyes were opened wide. He’d stretched one skinny arm and extended one finger, pointing up at Julio.
“You need something, little man?” Julio asked extra quietly, so he didn’t draw any more attention than he was already getting. Meg sure was keeping a close watch on him.
Dom nodded. Just once. Still pointing up at Julio.
“I think he wants you,” Craig whispered. “You want this big guy, Dom? Is he who you want?”
Damned if Dom didn’t nod and—
Cue the tears. Julio lost it. He had no choice but to bury his face into his shirt and hope he lived long enough to give this brave little guy a fighting chance. One crust of bread wasn’t enough. But love was.
