“Hello, dear!” Nan strides up to me, carrying a tray with drinks, steam rising from the mugs. “Hot cocoa?”
Not sure what that is, but it smells sweet. “Want me to carry that?”
“I’m all right, dear.” She carries the mugs to an outdoor table, frosty grass crunching under her feet.
Up in the hayloft, Arlo waves at me through the window. I lift a hand and offer a smile. “How goes the work?” I call.
“It’s… working! We’d finish faster if you and your muscles got up here.”
The hot chocolate goes up my nose, making me sputter. Gods, this man will be the death of me. Quickly draining my drink, I set it on the table and make for the barn. Inside, Arlo’s parents bustle about, levitating clutter out into the yard.
“Nat, you’re not getting rid of my pool table!” Bill says as said table flies right over my head.
Natalie throws up her hands. “When in Freya’s name are you ever going to use that table?”
“I’ll invite some of my mates over.”
“Bill, you haven’t played since Arlo’s first birthday!”
“Well, I might!”
I clear my throat, and Bill’s exasperation hardens into a scowl he aims at me. Natalie, however, conjures up a smile. “Hello! Come to help?”
“If I can be of use.”
Bill grabs a broom and starts sweeping.
Natalie sets her hands on her hips, looking around the barn with the huff of someone who has been working too long. “I know! Why don’t you help carry more of Bill’s junk out?” She motions to a stack of boxes covered in cobwebs and dust.
“Just be careful with it,” Bill says. “That ‘junk’ is limited edition books I’m going to sell.”
“You’ve been saying that for twenty years,” Natalie says, lips quirking into a smile.
“Yes, and it’s gone up five times in value since then!”
With a laugh, Natalie goes outside to join Patricia for hot chocolate.
Silence descends between Bill and me. He focuses on sweeping while I approach the boxes. I’m in no hurry to talk to him. It seems he gets along with everyone except me. I heft one of the boxes into my arms, grimacing at the weight. I can feel himwatching me as I carry it outside. Before I set it down, I toy with the idea of pretending to drop it just to piss him off. I don’t, but it was tempting.
Back in the barn, I brush spiderwebs off the next box.
“You don’t happen to have any old books or scrolls in your time, do you?”
I almost drop the box on my toe. “Anders’s mate has been teaching us how to read. Our stories are passed from parent to child over generations, not through ink and paper.”
He hums, though I can’t tell if it’s approval or not. “A shame. I imagine modern scholars would benefit greatly from texts from your time.”
A part of me wants to turn away and go on working. The man’s been a bastard since we met. The hair on my neck prickles, and I look up at the hayloft in time to catch Arlo quickly looking away.
I have no doubt Arlo wishes the pair of us could get along better. It would certainly help smooth tensions.
“If there’s ever anything you’re curious about, just ask,” I say. “I’m not the best with words, but I’ll try.”
When Bill doesn’t respond, embarrassment heats my neck. He could have at least tried. I hoist the next box into my arms.
“That one’s quite heavy. Let me help.” Stretching out his hands, Bill levitates the box and guides it out the barn doors.
Surprised doesn’t quite cover what I’m feeling. “My thanks.”
