Chapter 6 Corin
CORIN
The mud sucked at Corin's boots as he crouched beside the north fence beds, trowel in hand. Yesterday's warmer temperatures had turned the frozen ground to slush, and now everything was wet and heavy and gray. The kind of morning that made most people stay inside.
Chloe knelt three feet away, her pale blonde hair tucked under a knit cap, cheeks pink from the cold. She'd shown up at the orchard gate right at dawn, bundled in layers and carrying a canvas bag of tools like she did this every day.
Maybe she did. He didn't actually know that much about her routines.
"This one's the same as the others." She shifted back on her heels, frowning at the soil sample in her gloved palm. "Looks fine. Smells fine. But there's no life in it."
Corin moved closer to look. She was right. The dirt should have been rich and dark, full of the organic matter he'd been building into these beds for years. Instead it looked dull. Flat.
"Try the one by the fence post," he said. "That's where I first noticed it."
She shifted over, digging carefully with her trowel. He watched her work for a moment before catching himself and turning back to his own section.
His bear had gone quiet.
That was the strange thing. For days now, the animal had been pacing beneath his skin, uneasy and restless, reacting to the wrongness in the land. But this morning, with Chloe working beside him, the pacing had stopped. His bear lay calm and watchful, almost content.
Corin didn't know what to make of that.
"How long have you had this orchard?" Chloe asked without looking up.
"Five years officially. But I've been working it since I was a kid. My grandfather planted the first trees."
"That's a lot of history."
"Yeah." He dug his trowel into the earth, turning over a clump of soil that crumbled too easily in his hands. "Vanes have been on this land for four generations. Bees, orchards, construction. We build things. Tend things."
"And you chose the bees and the trees."
"They chose me, more like." He shrugged, a small movement. "My cousins are better with the building side. I'm better with things that grow."
Chloe glanced over at him. Those green eyes held something he couldn't quite read. "That makes sense."
"Does it?"
"You're patient. Steady." She turned back to her digging. "Plants and bees need that. They don't respond well to people who rush."
They worked in silence for a while, the only sounds the squelch of mud and the distant call of crows in the bare apple trees.
Corin found himself hyperaware of her presence.
The soft rhythm of her breathing. The way she hummed tunelessly when she concentrated.
The occasional brush of her shoulder against his when they both reached for the same section of fence.
He kept a careful distance. Told himself it was respect. She was here to work, not to be crowded by a bear shifter who didn't know how to make small talk.
"I think the problem's spreading from somewhere," Chloe said, breaking the silence. "Look at the pattern. The beds closest to the property line are the worst. The ones near the barn are almost normal."
Corin stood, brushing mud from his knees, and surveyed the rows she'd indicated. She was right. The gradient was subtle but clear once you knew to look for it.
"There's an old well about a quarter mile that direction." He pointed toward the tree line. "Abandoned years ago. Sealed up before I was born."
"Could something be leaching from it?"
"Maybe. I haven't checked it in a while."
Chloe rose too, peeling off her muddy gloves. Her fingers were red from the cold, and she blew on them before shoving her hands in her coat pockets. "We should look. If there's contamination in the groundwater, that would explain why the soil tests normal but the plants are still struggling."
"Could be worth a look," he agreed. "Not today, though. Temperature's dropping again tonight. Ground will be frozen solid by morning."
"Tomorrow, then? Or the day after?"
"I'll let you know when it thaws enough to dig."
She nodded, and something in her expression relaxed. Like she'd been bracing for him to refuse.
Why would he refuse? She was smart, observant, and she understood plants in a way most people didn't. Having her help made sense.
That was all this was.
"You want coffee?" The words came out before he'd fully decided to say them. "I've got a pot on in the barn. It's not fancy, but it's hot."
Chloe blinked, clearly surprised. Then a small smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. "Sure. My hands are frozen."
They walked toward the barn together, Corin matched his pace to hers without thinking about it. She was shorter than him by nearly a foot, and her stride was quick to compensate. He liked the way she moved. Purposeful. No wasted motion.
His bear rumbled, a low sound of approval.
He told it to shut up.
Inside the barn, warmth wrapped around them from the space heater he'd set up near his workbench. Corin poured two mugs of coffee from the old percolator and handed one to Chloe. She wrapped both hands around it, breathing in the steam.
"This is good," she said after the first sip.
"It's coffee."
"Good coffee." She looked around the barn, taking in the stacked hive boxes, the tools hung neatly on pegboard walls, the bags of soil amendment lined up by the door. "You're very organized."
"Bees like order. Rubs off on you after a while."
That earned him another small smile. He found himself wanting to earn more of them.
They drank their coffee in comfortable silence. Chloe leaned against his workbench, close enough that he could smell her beneath the mud and cold air. Something green and fresh, like crushed herbs. It suited her.
"Same time Thursday?" she asked when her mug was empty. "If the ground's thawed enough, we can check that well."
"I'll text you."
"You have my number?"
He didn't. He'd never asked for it.
"Freya can give it to me," he said.
"Or I could just give it to you now."
Right. That made more sense.
She rattled off the digits and he saved them in his phone, trying not to notice the way his bear practically hummed at the development. It was just a phone number. Practical. For coordinating work.
"I should get back," Chloe said, setting her empty mug on the bench. "Freya's expecting me and I have my own starts to try and reanimate."
"I'll walk you to the gate."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
He walked her anyway. Watched her climb into her little hatchback and drive off down the gravel road until she disappeared around the bend.
Then he stood there for awhile, cold seeping through his coat, wondering why the barn felt emptier now than it had before she'd arrived.
It was nothing. He'd just been alone too much lately. Spent too many hours with only the bees for company. Of course he'd enjoy having someone else around, especially someone as easy to work with as Chloe.
She was smart. She was capable. She was beautiful, with those green eyes and that quiet determination and the way she talked to plants when she thought no one was listening.
Any man would enjoy her company. That was all it was.
He told himself that twice more on the walk back to the barn, and almost believed it.