— Arthur asked guiltily. — Maybe I can try to walk?
— No, — Drew shook his head. — Another few hundred yards. We’re almost there.
Arthur went quiet. Drew could hear his heavy, labored breathing behind him. He heard him wince every time the sled hit a bump. The house finally came into view: lights in the windows, smoke curling from the chimney. Drew stopped to catch his breath.
— That’s us, — he nodded toward the farmhouse. — The one on the end.
The light was on in the window; Cassie was probably waiting, worried. Drew checked his watch: 4:40 PM. He’d been gone over an hour. The snow began to fall again, fine and sharp. The wind was picking up.
— Let’s get you inside, — Drew said, taking the rope again.
He pulled the sled right up to the porch. Arthur tried to stand and groaned again.
— Hang on, I’ve got you. — Drew stepped over and offered his shoulder.
Arthur stood up heavily, leaning on Drew. Limping, they made it up the steps. The door flew open, and Cassie stood there in her mother’s oversized sweater, barefoot.
— Drew? — she cried. — Where were you? I was scared.
Then she saw Arthur and went silent, backing away.
— It’s okay, Cassie, — Drew said tiredly. — This is… a guest. Help me out.
Cassie nodded, holding the door wide. They got Arthur into the house and sat him down on the bench at the kitchen table. Arthur breathed heavily, clutching his leg.
— You’re going to be okay, — Drew said, pulling off his gloves. — I’ll clean that cut and get you something to eat.
Arthur looked up at him, his eyes full of gratitude and exhaustion.
— You’re a lifesaver, kid, — he whispered. — A real lifesaver.
Drew shrugged and went to find the first aid kit. Cassie stood by the stove, watching the stranger with wide, curious eyes. She didn’t say a word. The house smelled of woodsmoke and something else—something expensive and out of place. Arthur unzipped his jacket and took it off, sitting there in his suit. Even wrinkled and dirty, he looked like he belonged in a skyscraper, not a drafty farmhouse. He was from a different world.
Drew found the first aid kit, an old metal box with a red cross on it. Inside were bandages, antiseptic, cotton balls, and some aspirin. He set it on the table.
— I need to cut your pant leg, — he said, grabbing the scissors.
— Do it, — Arthur nodded. — They’re ruined anyway.
Drew cut the fabric, exposing the wound. Arthur hissed, clenching his teeth.
— Hurting? — Drew asked.
— I’ll live, — Arthur exhaled.
Drew soaked a cotton ball and carefully cleaned the wound. Arthur turned pale, gripping the edge of the table, but he didn’t make a sound. Then came the antiseptic—it stung, but it was necessary. Then the bandage, tight and neat.
— There, — Drew tied it off. — I’ll get some tea started.
He put the kettle on the stove and got out the mugs. Cassie walked over quietly and tugged on his sleeve.
— Drew, who is he? — she whispered.
— I’ll explain later, — Drew patted her head. — Don’t worry.
The kettle whistled, and Drew made the tea, strong and hot. He handed a mug to Arthur. Arthur took it with both hands, sipping slowly. He closed his eyes as the warmth hit him.
— Thank you, — he whispered. — Best thing I’ve ever tasted.
Drew got some leftover potatoes, bread, and ham from the fridge. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had.
— Eat, — he said, setting the plate in front of Arthur.
Arthur ate hungrily, his head down. His hands were shaking, but he tried to hide it.
— Sorry, — he said, wiping his mouth. — I probably look like a stray dog… — he muttered apologetically.
— Don’t worry about it, — Drew waved it off. — You must be starving.
— Beyond, — Arthur nodded.
He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. His face relaxed. His breathing became steady. Cassie walked over to Drew and tugged his sleeve again.
— Is he staying the night? — she whispered.
Drew looked at Arthur. The man was already nodding off.
— I think he’s already asleep.
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