Read Shattered Lives (Flynn Family Saga Book 1) for Free Online Page B

Colonel Henderson wasn’t my brother,
I would have turned you away.”
    Eagle Heart wanted to say that he didn’t want to be
there.  He wanted to say that Colonel Henderson was a murdering coward.  But he
knew it would only make the beating worse.  He kept his mouth shut as they
dragged him down the stairs to the potting shed.
    The beating was bad, nearly as bad as the one his
first night in Lewisburg.
    Eagle Heart endured.
    When they were done, he fell to the floor.  The door
closed.  He heard the bolt slide home.  He closed his eyes and fell into
darkness.

 
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
    When he came to, light filtered between the boards
of the wall.  For a little while, hunger bothered Eagle Heart.  But he had
fasted before, and after a few hours, his hunger left him.  Thirst was another
matter entirely.  By nightfall, his mouth was dry, and he felt sick.
    Then, the door to the shed opened.
    The small blond boy crept into the darkness carrying
something.
    It was a bowl of stew.
    “I snuck out when they weren’t looking.  I know you
haven’t had anything to eat.  Here.  We can share.”
    Eagle Heart sighed.  “You’ll get into trouble.”
    The smaller boy shrugged.  “You got into trouble on
my behalf.  It seems like we ought to look out for each other.”
    Eagle Heart hesitated.  A part of him feared caring
about anyone again.  But a part of him longed for company.  And the boy had
given him food.  That was a sacred thing.  Eagle Heart nodded.  He accepted the
gift of the stew.  He took a spoonful of stew and chewed it slowly.
    “I’m Timothy.  Timothy Brown.  But my friends call
me Timmy.  Well, they would if I had any friends."  Timmy looked sad for a
moment.  Then, he drew a deep breath and smiled hopefully.  "What’s your
name?”
    “Eagle Heart.”
    Timmy stared at him.  “That’s a funny name.”
    “It is Lakota.”
    Timmy frowned.  “What’s your real name?”
    Eagle Heart sighed.  “Flynn.  Robert Sean Flynn.”
    Timmy nodded slowly.  “That’s too much to remember. 
Would it be all right if I called you Flynn?”
    Eagle Heart nodded reluctantly.
    Timmy smiled and munched contentedly on his stew. 
They ate in companionable silence.  When the stew was gone, Timmy sighed.  “I’d
better get back before Mrs. Josephson misses me.”  He grinned suddenly.  “I put
a frog in her teapot.  She had hysterics and ran into the kitchen.”
    Eagle Heart laughed for the first time since the
massacre.  He tousled Timmy’s hair.  “You get on back.  I’ll be all right.”
    Timmy nodded.  He picked up the empty bowl and ran
back to the gray stone building.
    *  *  *
    From that night on, Flynn and Timmy looked after one
another.  Whenever Flynn got into trouble—which was often—Timmy sneaked him
food and water.  And whenever the larger boys tried to gang up on Timmy, Flynn
defended him.
    Then, one morning, Timmy took too long getting
dressed.  Mrs. Josephson beat him with a switch until he bled.
    A week later, the welts were infected.
    Flynn touched his belt, but the soldiers had taken
his pouch of herbs as well as his knife.
    Flynn sighed.  He waited until the dormitory was
silent, except for the sound of twenty-six boys breathing.  Then, he dressed
silently and crept out of the room and down the stairs.  He knew that the cook
always kept the window in the kitchen open, and he climbed out of the window. 
He ran to the river.  A willow bowed gracefully over the water, its leaves
silver in the moonlight.  He searched the ground for a sharp stone.  He shaved
the bark into his handkerchief and tied the four corners together, forming a
sack.  He scoured the ground, looking for a particular type of moss.  When he
found it, he added it to his sack.  Then, he ran back to the orphanage.  He
boiled water on the stove and brewed the infusion.  He carried the steaming tin
cup up the stairs to the dormitory.  He put his arm around Timmy’s thin
shoulders and