"I'll fix it," he said. Relief flickered across Nielli's face. Aiona held her steady, not trusting good news too quickly. Elias added, "Free of charge." The sisters exchanged a confused look. Aiona frowned slightly.
Why would you do that? Elias took a slow breath. This was the part he hated explaining. One condition. Their bodies shifted almost at the same time.
Aiona straightening. Nielli pulling back half a step. Elias kept his tone calm, controlled, respectful." Tonight I sleep between the two of you." Nielli's eyes widened with alarm. Aiona's jaw tensed.
Before either spoke, Elias raised a hand slightly, slowly, carefully." It isn't what you think." They waited silent and tense." I don't sleep safe," he continued." If someone comes to me in the dark or wakes me wrong, I react first. I don't want to mistake either of you for trouble.
I don't want danger slipping past me. If I sleep between you, I'll know you're safe, and I won't grab for my gun without reason." He didn't lower his gaze. He wanted them to see the truth plainly. I'm asking you so nothing goes wrong for any of us. The explanation hung in the air.
The storm clouds gathered above the hills, pressing a cold wind over the homestead. The sisters processed his words differently. Aiona studied him carefully, searching his posture for deception. She noted the stiffness in his shoulders, the way he kept his hands visible, the exhaustion in his voice. Nothing suggested desire or threat, only caution.
Nielli glanced at Elias's horse, the loose saddle bags, the worn look in his eyes. He looked like someone who had been driven out of sleep too many times and no longer trusted his own instincts. Aiona finally spoke." You give your word that's the only reason." "Yes," Elias answered." I'm here to help, not to harm." Nielli lowered her eyes briefly, then nodded.
"We accept." Aiona hesitated one last moment, then gave a short, decisive nod." Fine. Fix the fence. Stay the night. We'll manage the rest as it comes." Elias let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
He felt the familiar edge of stress fade just slightly. the kind of ease that came when people chose to trust him instead of fear him. He knew he carried damage, but he didn't want it to hurt anyone again. He tied his horse, rolled up his sleeves, and walked to the broken fence. His hands moved with practiced steadiness, measuring distances, checking the rails, pressing the soil around weak posts. The sisters stood back at first, unsure of him, but gradually drifted closer to understand how he worked.