She stomped her front hoof, and then she lifted all four hooves off the ground.
Billy rubbed his eyes, the smooth fabric of his gloves ice cold against his face. “You’re—you’re floating!”
She lifted an eyebrow at him, asking him to rephrase that.
He looked at the sleigh. Santa’s sleigh. “You’reflying.”
She bobbed her head with some effort, as flying with only three legs was only slightly better than walking.
Billy grinned. For the first time since he’d learned the meaning of the worddivorceand they’d come to this Podunk town, he felt hope. “Come on. I’ll find something for you to eat. Do you like carrots?”
Her eyes brightened.
“We have a bag in the fridge.” He started off, thought better of just leaving her to fly behind him, and found a long strip of leather, which he tied under her chin. “Don’t want you floating away.” He wasn’t sure how this flying reindeer thing worked, but he’d figure it out.
She came with him, her head moving slowly up and down as she limped through the air. Her hurt leg hung straight down instead of bent like the other one. That was bad.
He retrieved his sled, dragging it behind him as they went. “Do you have a name?” He checked to see if she responded.
She nodded.
“Hmm. I’m not sure how you’re going to tell me. Can I call you Candy?” It seemed like a good name for one of Santa’s reindeer.
She blew out her lips, making the raspberry sound.
He laughed, the sound foreign after so many months of not hearing it. “Dasher? Dancer?”
He went through all the reindeer names he knew before making it to the barn. But once they got there, it became more important to make a bed for the reindeer and get her settled than to figure out her name.
He pulled open the door to one of the stalls in the back. “Will this work?” It was clean. Yeah, there was some dust, but it was a barn, so that was expected. The window above her was covered in gray film that had probably been there before he was born.
She limped inside and inspected every corner before settling against the far wall with a moan and a huff and a heavy sigh. She was kind of dramatic—like Lucy at school, who was always in a crisis. She shifted and then laid her head down on the hard-packed dirt.
“That doesn’t look very comfortable. I’ll be right back.” He took off for the house, making sure to shut the barn door so she didn’t wander out.
He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and gathered it against his chest. It was old and worn out and he and mom used it for picnics, so it was okay to take outside.
He was almost out the back door when Mom called, “Whoa there, speedy. Whatcha doing?”
Billy turned around and stared at his mom—a big debate happening inside of him. He could tell her a quick fib and be on his way. But for some reason, he thought of how he’d laughed and felt happy around Santa’s reindeer, and he wanted to see the light in his mother’s eyes.
“Can you keep a secret?” he asked her.
She cocked her head. “I’m actually a pretty great secret keeper.”
“Follow me.” He motioned for her to follow him through the kitchen and out the back door. Their house was weird. The road came up to the back of it, going right past the barn, and people were always knocking on the kitchen door because walking all the way around to the front was a lot of work.
Mom took for-ev-er getting her snow boots on, but they finally made their way out to the barn.
At the door, Billy put his finger over his lips. “You have to be quiet—don’t scream.”
Mom grabbed his shoulders. “Billy Edge, please tell me you didn’t trap a coyote in the barn.”
He shrugged off her hold. “No, Mom. She’s not dangerous—but she’s hurt.”
Mom’s forehead wrinkled. Before she could tell him he couldn’t go inside, he pushed the door open wide enough for him and the blanket to fit and then squeezed through. Mom was right behind him, a hand on his shoulder—probably so she could yank him away from whatever was in there.
Billy tried not to shrug her off. He wanted her to say he could keep the reindeer. He wanted to make her better and see her fly again.
