Later, as the afternoon stretched long and warm, she realised something else — she wasn’t being watched to be controlled. She was being watched because, without ever saying it aloud, theyhad already started to account for her presence.
And that meant this place was no longer neutral ground.
It was becoming shared.
**CHAPTER FIVE.
The quiet came in the afternoon.
Not the empty kind — the working kind. The sort that settled once the necessary things had been done and nothing demanded immediate attention. Heat shimmered over the fields, the air heavy with the smell of grass and dust.
She found Adrian by the equipment shed, sorting through a crate of tools with methodical care.
He didn’t look up when she approached.
“Cole said you might need help,” she said.
A pause. Then he shifted to make space beside him. “If you don’t mind getting dirty.”
“I don’t.”
They worked side by side without talking much. He handed her tools when she needed them, never the wrong one, never late. When she hesitated over a bolt that refused to turn, he crouched, showed her the angle, then stepped back again.
No hovering. No commentary.
She appreciated that more than she’d expected.
After a while, she realised how rare the silence felt — not awkward, not weighted. Just shared. It allowed her thoughts to settle instead of spiral.
“You don’t ask many questions,” she said eventually.
Adrian shrugged. “People talk when they’re ready.”
“And if they’re not?”
“Then they don’t.” He glanced at her briefly. “Pushing doesn’t help.” She nodded, surprised by the relief that followed. “You’re good at this.”
“At fixing things?”
“At knowing when not to interfere.”
Something flickered in his expression — not discomfort, but recognition. “I learned the hard way.”
She didn’t ask how.
The sun dipped lower as they finished the repair. Adrian wiped his hands on a rag and straightened, scanning the horizon out of habit. “Does it bother you,” she asked carefully, “that I’m here?” He considered the question.
“No,” he said at last. “But it changes things.”
“How?”
“We plan differently,” he replied. “We notice more.”
She absorbed that quietly. “And that’s a problem?”
“No.” His gaze met hers, steady. “It’s responsibility.”
They stood there a moment longer, the land stretching out before them, vast and indifferent.
