“Showtime,” she murmured.
“Morning,” Asher said.
A chorus of greetings followed. He scanned the group, eyes flicking briefly to me before moving on.
“East rows today,” he said. “Ladders stay planted. Crates here.” He pointed. “Twist, don’t pull. No phones. No rushing.”
He started assigning people in pairs. “Jonah, Marc. Row Four. Elise, Soleil, Row Five.” They peeled off one by one.
“Claire,” he said.
I stayed put.
Soleil shot me an encouraging look as she passed. “You’ve got this.”
Asher waited until everyone else had moved off before turning back to me. “Did you work an orchard before?” he asked.
“No.”
“Figured,” he said, not unkindly. “Come on.”
He led me to the nearest tree and demonstrated how to pick an apple, the motion smooth and practiced.
“Twist,” he said. “If it fights you, leave it.”
I nodded.
“Bruises get tossed,” he continued. He handed me a ladder. “Test it before you climb. Every time. You fall, you’re done for the season.”
“Yes—Asher.”
He gave me a look. “Just Asher.”
“Right.”
He hesitated, then said, “You work hard, keep your head down, and don’t go looking for trouble, we’ll be fine.”
I thought of everything I hadn’t said. “I can do that,” I replied.
“Good,” he said. “We’ll check in at noon.”
He walked away, already focused on something else. I planted the ladder and climbed. My hands started to ache within minutes. My shoulders burned. Sweat dampened my shirt as the sky lightened above the trees. But I kept going. Because I hadn’t come to Val-du-Lys to be comfortable. And because waiting hadn’t brought Sophie back. The break call came just before noon. Tools were set down, ladders folded, and the group drifted toward the barn at the edge of the orchard. From the outside, it still looked rustic, with weathered wood and wide doors, but inside, it was something else entirely. The space was clean and bright. Someone had stripped the walls and refinished the beams, leaving the wood warm and smooth instead of splintered. Long tables lined the center of the room were sanded and sealed. A brand-new stainless steel fridge hummed quietly against one wall. A modern couch sat beneath a window with dark fabric that was still stiff like it hadn’t been broken in yet. It didn’t feel like a place people merely passed through. It felt like a place someone had invested in. I dropped onto the bench beside Soleil and Elise, my muscles protesting immediately. Elise unwrapped a sandwich from foil. Soleil pulled out a container of fruit and a granola bar. I had nothing. I hadn’t packed lunch. Not because I forgot but because I hadn’t thought I’d need it. My appetite had vanished somewhere between the rows and the ache in my shoulders. I sat there with my water bottle, hoping no one noticed.
Asher walked in a moment later. He didn’t announce himself. He didn’t have to. The room shifted as voices lowered, movement slowing just slightly. He scanned the space once, then his gaze landed on me. On my empty hands. His brow furrowed.
“Why aren’t you eating?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m not hungry.”
“That wasn’t the question,” he said matter of fact. He sure had a grumpy way of communicating.
I frowned. “I just. . .”
“Grab an apple,” he said, tipping his chin toward the crate near the door. “And there’s a sandwich in the fridge.”
I shook my head. “I really don’t. . .”
“I can’t afford to have employees fainting in the rows,” he cut in. “Eat.” There was no anger or a raised voice just an expectation that I listen.