They worked together over the following week, conversation ebbing and flowing in tune to their work. December brought with it a bone deep chill to the air that had them both in gloves, hers an old pair he kept on hand just in case he misplaced his good ones. He worried over her as they worked, her coughing growing louder and more frequent with each day, but she would never accept medicine. She wouldn’t accept any aid other than the food he offered in exchange for her work.
Dash’s lips thinned but they worked on anyway, his gaze straying to the door often nowadays. The light dimmed outside far earlier than it had in the past months and Dash found himself longing to close up earlier each day, and yet he stayed later, far later than he would have in warmer months, so he didn’t leave Merry alone in the barn.
He stretched; the horse almost bare of paint now and looked out the crack of the barn door. There was still light outside and he had work to do at home. His gaze slid to Merry, slaving over the massive Polar Bear. It was grueling work, but it had given them both a break from the reindeer, with all its intricate detail. With another look outside he nodded and rose.
“Let’s go.”
Her head jerked around, the sandpaper sliding from her gloved hands to rest on the dirt floor. “Go?”
“It’s getting colder and it’s not like you haven’t earned your keep. There’s a spare room over my garage. Consider it wages.”
Her eyebrow arched, and Dash wasn’t nearly foolish enough to miss the sarcasm in that gesture. Not on Merry’s face. “Just like the food?”
She was a proud woman. Sleeping on a dirt floor, but proud nonetheless. She took nothing she didn’t think she warranted. Dash snorted, a plume of air-like smoke slipping from him. It curled up towards the ceiling.
“Take it or leave it. You can count this place as your room, but last I checked, salaries typically covered room and board.”
Dash headed for the door, not bothering to pause. She’d come or she wouldn’t, but if he acted like it mattered she’d let pride be the thing that stopped her from accepting his offer. But oh, how he wanted her to follow. She needed a warm place to sleep for a change. He headed up the snow covered walk, ears straining for any sound behind him. Finally the barn shut softly and he paused to turn back. Merry stood on the sidewalk behind him, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket.
“Padlock it.” He held up a single silver key. Before she’d latched it from the inside so thieves and vandals couldn’t come in and hurt the pieces they’d been working on. Now, he’d taken her out of the mix so it was back to the padlock. She cinched it shut and trailed after him. Stuffing his hands back in his pockets he led the way, in their traditional quiet, up to Holly Street and the one story, two bedroom house he called home.
The neighborhood was shoddy at best. The house to the right of his with its boarded up windows. The house to the left, had a falling chain-link fence surrounding it, graffiti coloring the front door. Merry took it in perfect stride. It was South Howle after all.
Dash headed around the side of his house for the garage, grabbing a red and green tote from the rafters and lowering it to the ground. “You can go inside. There’s a key under the turtle in the backyard. I have work to do.”
“Consider it my rent.” She held out a gloved hand.
Dash shook his head. “No. This is purely personal. You help because you want to, or you find something else to soothe your conscience.”
He set the lid aside and grabbed out a string of perfectly coiled Christmas lights before standing to meet her gaze. Merry stared at the box of packed Christmas decorations, almost unheard of in South Howle. She smiled. “I’d love to help.”
