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Janice patted his chest. “Now drink something.”

Alan gave her a tired smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes and walked away.

Wes waited until Alan looked at him.

“You heard that.”

“Enough of it.”

Alan rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s right.”

“That seems to happen a lot.”

Alan laughed. Then his expression sobered as he looked toward the higher blocks. “I just don’t want to get the first one wrong.”

“You’ll get things wrong eventually,” Wes said. “Everyone does. That doesn’t mean you get the whole orchard wrong.”

Alan considered that. “Come on. Let’s look at what’s still hanging.”

They walked the next two blocks together. The farther uphill they went, the more the wind moved through the trees. Some of the fruit was ready enough that Wes would normally have taken it over the next couple of days. With the forecast worsening, that margin was disappearing. His phone buzzed again. Another message from Russet Hill. More windfall in the exposed rows. He needed to go. But first they had to decide what happened here.

Alan stopped beside him. “What do you think?”

“With the people you’ve got, you’ll bring in most of the lower block and some of this one today. If you want the rest of this section off before the wind gets bad, you’ll need more hands tomorrow.”

Alan’s face tightened. “How many?”

“Enough to spread people across the work without making it unsafe. Pickers where they know what they’re doing. Plenty of people can carry, move crates, load trailers.”

Alan stared across the orchard. For a moment Wes thought he was calculating numbers. Then Alan said, “I don’t like asking.” Wes waited. “We’ve been here five minutes. These people barely know us. I don’t want to be the new guy who buys an orchard and immediately expects half the town to come rescue him because the weather changed.”

There it was. Not pride exactly. Something more vulnerable. Alan wanted to belong before he asked anything of the place. “You came to help me yesterday,” Wes said.

“That was different.”

“Not really.” Wes waited until Alan glanced at him. “You saw I needed another tractor and trailer, so you brought yours over and worked all day. Nobody checked how long you’d lived here first.”

“That was one neighbor.”

“That’s how it starts.” Wes leaned against the nearest tree. “People here don’t keep score, Alan. Sometimes you’re the one who needs help. Sometimes you’re the one who turns up. You’ll have plenty of chances to do the turning up.”

Alan looked toward the lower block where Janice was working. “I don’t want them thinking we expect to be carried.”

“They won’t. You and Janice haven’t sat around waiting for somebody else to run this place. Everyone who’s met you can see that.”

Alan was quiet for a moment. Then he asked, “If this was Russet Hill, would you call?”

“Yes.”

The answer came easily. That seemed to matter. Alan breathed out and nodded. “All right.”

Wes took out his phone. “Want me to make the calls?”

“Yes.”

Joel answered quickly. Wes kept it simple. Bramblewood needed people tomorrow. The weather was closing the window, and they needed anyone who could safely pick, carry or drive. Joel did not ask whether Alan had lived in Bear Creek long enough to deserve help. He asked what time. By the time Wes ended the call, Joel was already spreading the word.