Neither of them said anything.
“Okay,” she said finally, quieter now. “This is… something.”
Grant didn’t answer right away.
Then—
“Yeah.”
She looked at him.
“You built all this?”
“Mostly.”
That didn’t feel like a small answer.
She thought, fleetingly, of the years she’d spent fighting for wall space and donors while he’d been setting posts in the ground and building fences that actually held.
She studied him a bit longer.
Then looked back out over the land.
“Well,” she said, “I can see why you didn’t mention the bats.”
He looked at her.
“That makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” she said. “You lure people in with this and then casually introduce attic wildlife.”
His mouth shifted again.
That almost-smile.
She put the cart back in gear.
“Alright,” she said, turning the wheel. “Show me the rest.”
Grant settled back beside her, one arm still stretched along the seat behind her, close enough now that she was very aware of the warmth of him at her back.
“Careful,” he said as she took the turn a little sharper than necessary.
“I’ve got it.”
“Debatable.”
She laughed.
They circled back toward the lower paddocks.
Izzy adjusted the wheel, easing them along the fenceline. She was getting the hang of the soft brake, but the proximity to Grant was much harder to navigate.
“You’re doing better,” Grant said, his arm still draped along the back of her seat. “Only hit one fence post.”
“I didn’t hit it,” she corrected. “I communed with it.”
His low laugh was cut short as they rounded the corner of the main barn.
