He simply made room.
The woman stumbled inside, and her knees gave out the moment she crossed the threshold. Garrett caught her by the elbow before she could hit the floor. She was light. Too light. Like winter had been eating her from the inside.
The boy guided his sister in behind, eyes wide, lips pressed tight. Garrett shut the door against the storm, sliding the iron bar into place with a firm finality that felt like a vow.
He moved quickly, tossing thick furs toward the hearth. The children sank into them like they had reached heaven and didn’t quite believe they were allowed to stay.
He pulled a chair close to the fire and eased the woman into it. Then he poured hot water from the kettle into a tin cup, the steam rising like a ghost of comfort, and held it out.
