It took Remy six months to get there.
Beckett got there in three weeks.
We find the blockage at the main valve near the creek, sediment buildup from the recent rain pushing through the line and settling at the pressure point. Fixable.
Forty minutes of work with the right tools and a replacement filter cartridge from the equipment shed.
Beckett goes for the tools without being asked.
He comes back with exactly the right ones.
We work side by side in the creek bed with the water running cool nearby, the shade of the cottonwoods keeping the morning heat manageable.
He hands me things when I need them. I talk him through the process and he listens and retains it the first time the way he retains everything.
At some point our shoulders are touching and neither of us moves away from it.
Not obviously.
Just present.
A quiet acknowledgment in the middle of a practical task that something has shifted between us and we are both aware of it.
We get the line cleared, the pressure restored and Silas confirms from the upper pasture that the trough is filling properly.
Beckett sits back on his heels in the creek bed and looks at the repaired valve with the expression he gets when something has gone right.
"Good," he says.
"Good," I agree.
He turns and looks at me.
The creek runs beside us. The cottonwoods move overhead. The ranch hums around us in the mid-morning heat.
"Laney," he says quietly.
"Don't make it weird," I say. Reflex. Armor.
The corner of his mouth moves. "I was going to say you've got mud on your face."
I press my lips together. "Oh."
He reaches over and brushes it away with his thumb, one easy, unhurried motion, and leaves his hand against my jaw for just a second longer than the mud required.
"There," he says quietly.
I look at him and the terrified happy thing in my chest is so large now it's difficult to breathe around.
"Thanks," I manage.
He stands, offers me a hand, pulls me up from the creek bed.
Holds my hand for exactly two seconds longer than necessary.
Then lets go and picks up the tools and starts back toward the ranch.
I stand in the creek bed for a moment.
