“Someone should.”
They removed the plate.
Water surged through so quickly both jumped back.
The old secondary line ran downhill toward an abandoned cistern.
Within an hour, the cistern began filling.
Ethan stood beside Magdalena.
Water splashed against stone.
He laughed.
Not smiled.
Laughed.
Then, without thinking, he grabbed Magdalena around the waist.
Lifted her.
Only slightly.
Enough that her boots left the ground.
Both froze.
Ethan immediately set her down.
His face changed.
“I’m sorry.”
Magdalena stared.
“For what?”
“I should have asked.”
She looked at him.
Nobody had ever apologized that quickly for touching her.
Her body had spent years being treated as public property for comment and private property for anyone bold enough.
Ethan looked genuinely ashamed.
Magdalena said:
“Next time ask.”
His eyes lifted.
“Next time?”
She felt heat rise.
“Hypothetically.”
“Of course.”
They walked back separately.
Both smiling where the other could not see.
Castle Ridge received a second chance.
Water reached the north troughs.
Pasture revived slightly.
Magdalena adjusted feed rationing.
Jacinto located a rancher willing to sell hay cheaper than Vale.
Ethan negotiated.
Jacob convinced two former hands to return.
Then Arthur visited.
He saw the water.
His expression betrayed him.
Only for a second.
Magdalena noticed.
Arthur recovered quickly.
“Miracle.”
Ethan leaned against the porch post.
“Old channel.”
“Interesting.”
“You knew about it?”
Arthur smiled.
“Why would I?”
Magdalena stepped onto the porch.
His eyes moved toward her.
“This the famous new cook?”
“Magdalena Reed.”
Arthur looked her over.
Too deliberately.
“Quite an addition.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
Magdalena ignored him.
“Your company manufactured irrigation plates?”
Arthur glanced toward her.
“What?”
“Stamped V.S.”
“Vale Supply.”
“My father manufactured thousands.”
“For Castle Ridge?”
“Probably.”
“Records?”
“Ancient.”
“Still exist?”
Arthur smiled.
“You ask many questions for a cook.”
Magdalena smiled back.
“You answer few for a businessman.”
Ethan coughed to hide something.
Arthur looked toward him.
“Careful.”
“With what?”
“Employees who forget their station.”
The temperature on the porch seemed to drop.
Ethan stepped forward.
Magdalena touched his forearm.
Not because Arthur deserved protection.
Because Ethan’s anger would give him satisfaction.
She answered instead.
“My station is wherever Mr. Casteel pays me to stand.”
Arthur’s smile disappeared.
He left ten minutes later.
That evening Ethan found Magdalena in the smokehouse.
“You shouldn't have had to answer him.”
“I didn't mind.”
“I did.”
She turned.
“Why?”
He looked at her.
Too long.
Magdalena’s pulse accelerated.
Finally:
“Because he looked at you like property.”
She laughed softly.