She nodded. “Grandma too. It’s a time-honored tradition in our family.” She joked as she scooted cautiously into the building.
He leaned out and motioned for Felix to come in.
Felix stopped at the door and gave him a dubious look:I can’t fit.His antlers were wider than the door frame.
“Trust me.” Drake reached up and grabbed his antlers, turning him to the side so he could fit. “Step forward. Again.” He turned him straight and Felix moved into the building. At least it was tall enough for him.
Clove turned on her flashlight and looked for a light switch. “I don’t think we have electricity.”
The sled, still harnessed to Felix, bumped against the door. “Hold up, buddy.” Felix stopped and waited for him to unhook the harness.
When it was off, he gave a mighty shake of his whole body:That feels so good. You have no idea how constricting that is.
Clove patted his side. “I wear clothes every day.”
He grunted. Moving to a pile of hay in the far corner, he turned around three times before settling in:Good night.
“‘Night.” Clove called.
Felix lifted his head, took a large bite of hay out of the bale next to him, chewed it and then tucked his head down. Seconds later, his eyes drifted shut, and he was out.
“Poor guy,” Drake frowned. “He wore himself out to get us here.”
Clove rubbed her hand up her arm. “He did. I wish I had some oats for him.”
“I’ll give him a bucket-full when we get to the ranch. He’s more than earned them.” Drake resisted the urge to hold his head as it pulsed. Instead, he grabbed onto the sled and muscled it through the door. Leaning over made his head throb louder.
Clove put her hand on his arm. “You need to sit down.”
“Too much to do,” he protested. The effort to speak was alarming. “Check my eyes for a concussion, will you?”
She blinked and then tore off her gloves. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about that,” she mumbled as she moved the flashlight in from the side of his vision, watching his eyes constrict. “They’re fine. It doesn't mean you don’t have one, though.”
“I’ll move slowly.”
She didn’t look happy that he moved at all, but she’d have to deal with it because he couldn’t rest until he was sure she was taken care of. The building was much safer than being in the elements, but it was still cold. They needed a heat source.
“I’ve been saving these for a special occasion.” She pulled out two small cans with green labels that read: Heat Source.
“I could kiss you right now.” He did just that, and she grinned at him.
He laid out the moisture barrier in a place where they could lean against a couple of hay bales. A couple of nights ago, when he was bored, he’d read the paperwork that came with the silver fabric and learned it was fire retardant as well. That was helpful, since they were in a barn full of dry hay.
Clove set the kettle over the flame to heat and then pulled out the sleeping bags.
Drake unzipped his to wrap around his shoulders while he sat by the small flame. Already, he could feel a difference in the air. It wasn’t a large heater, but it was specifically made to heat small spaces. If they used it in the tent, it would have them nice and toasty in no time. It would have made him nervous though—what if they fell asleep while it was burning and kicked it over?
At least he knew his mind was clear enough to think about safety. Score two for not having a brain injury.
Clove, wrapped in her sleeping bag, sat next to him and they watched the kettle. “If you make a joke about a watched pot not boiling…” she lightly threatened. Glancing at him, she jolted.
“What?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Sorry. It’s just-–” she dug in the bag for a washcloth and poured some of the luke-warm water over it. “You’re a bit of a mess.” She wiped the side of his head and ear where he’d bleed.
Drake grit his teeth. “Sorry.”
She paused. “For getting hurt? I don’t think that’s something you need to apologize for. I’m going to glue this together.”
