The Family Origin

Chapter Forty-Nine: JOSEPH POV

My instincts told me that Miles had brought Oliver's body to the barn. I should have spoken to him when he came inside, but I was distracted by Maisie. She had not cried and screamed like I anticipated. Her calmness when she placed her head on my chest was shocking, and I was unsure where to place my hands. Her body seemed even smaller and more fragile. Had she been losing weight? What would happen if she became ill?

When Miles came inside, I panicked and pushed Maisie off me. I was unsure how he would react if he saw us so close in an intimate way. Luckily, he saw nothing and I hurried out of the house.

I was correct about Oliver's body being in the barn. When I opened the door, the metallic scent of blood filled my nose. There was no attempt to hide Oliver, and he was crumpled in the middle of the floor. A few flies buzzed around his body. We needed to bury him before the pests got worse.

Stepping closer, I could see the brutality of Miles's attack. Oliver was laying in a pool of blood, and his clothes were soaked with the sticky wet crimson. I was unable to count how many stab wounds littered his body. His face was a mess of deep slashes crisscrossing his skin. Miles made him suffer before he took his life.

I stopped moving when my stomach twisted into a tight knot. I stood and watched my son do this without intervening, but this had to happen. If the Thatchers stayed away from our home, neither of them would be dead. They came here with the intentions of hurting our family, and there was consequences. We had to protect ourselves.

"Go inside."

I looked over my shoulder to see Miles walking into the barn. He had cleaned the blood off his skin and changed into clean clothes. How long had I been staring at Oliver? It felt like only a few minutes, but it must have been much longer.

"Go inside?" I asked. "We need to bury him quickly."

"I am not going to bury him," he said.

I raised a brow as Miles came closer to the body. He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at Oliver. His face was his usual blank expression.

"You do not want to bury him?" I asked. "The flies are going to be terrible in a few hours."

"There are better ways to hide the body," he said.

"What do you plan on doing?"

"I will burn it."

"That is going to smell horrible."

"That is why you need to go inside."

Miles did not move as he stared at Oliver. No flicker of emotion crossed his face, and I was unable to understand what he was thinking. If he wanted to burn the body, there was no way for me to change his mind. Selfishly, I would be happy to stay away from the disgusting smell of burning flesh.

"The Rules are the same," I said. "If you are starting a fire, bring two buckets of water."

"Will do," he said.

I turned and walked toward the door, pleased to escape the metallic smell of blood. I was also not going to complain about not having to dig a grave today. When I got to the barn door, I glanced over my shoulder to see Miles grab a saw. Was he going to cut the body into pieces to make it easier to burn? I shuddered at the thought as I walked toward the house.

Maisie was in the kitchen. Her head hung low as she was peeling vegetables. She did not look up at me as I walked in, and I assumed she must have been embarrassed by how she laid against me on the couch. Not wanting to upset her further, I went down the hallway and into the living room. I grabbed my novel and sat in the rocking chair. Through the window, I could see Oliver's carriage in front of our home. We would have to find a way to dispose of the carriage, but I did not want to go outside in the disgusting smell.