The next morning Imogen slept in. The things Enver had said about cyborgs and cynkers still garbled her mind. Could she have really put him in some kind of danger just by trying to help that man? She wasn't a cynker. She couldn’t possibly present any kind of threat to them. Her understanding of cybernetics began and ended with a pair of pliers and reasonably good instincts. For them to think that made her a threat to their livelihood was downright ridiculous.

She distracted herself by walking around the small garden she had set up on the warehouse roof. She inspected each of the makeshift rain barrels she’d put together and erected on platforms, so the water flowed evenly to the garden. Seven of them were spaced out around one area at the far end of the building's roof, encircling a raised garden bed she’d painstakingly carried the dirt up six stories to create. She even created overflow funnels so the rain barrels would redirect to the gutters instead of flooding the roof. If the deadlands ever saw that much rain.

After checking the rain barrel to make sure there were no leaks or unexpected vermin swimming in the water—the screen windows she’d found on one of the buildings nearby had served as excellent grating to keep that from happening so far—she picked her way over to the garden and began inspecting the soil. It remained moist and when she stuck her finger in the dirt the desiccation of the ground below hadn’t sucked out all of the hydration. Instead, the dirt came back on her finger wet and soft. She grabbed the bag of mouse droppings she’d been collecting from the Ward basement and crushed through the bag’s fabric, turning them into a fine grain fertilizer.

She kneeled at the edge of the garden and leaned forward as far as possible without putting her hand in the soil, scattering the fertilizer across the dirt. As she worked the sun rose behind her and sweat dripped down her chest and back, pooling between her breasts. It felt good to work in the earth again, even if it wasn't the vast farmland of the ecovangelist compound. But this was better. Her home had been a place of myth. Whatever blessings she’d found there were far outweighed by the suffering she’d endured, beautiful land and backward thinking.

"Where the fuck are you?” Enver called out behind her.

When she turned toward what she expected would be his usually grimaced face, what she found instead left her speechless.

His mouth hung open as he appraised the roof.

Imogen cringed. She's been hiding this from him until she was certain she could get something to grow. She been living here for almost a month and certainly should've told him about the dirt and water she'd been collecting on top of the building. It could create structural problems or an animal infestation and then it would be all her fault, just like everything else that happened to them.

"Enver, I'm so sorry I should've told you I—"

He stopped her mid freak-out by bringing his hand up and stepping forward. He didn't speak again but wandered around the garden, his eyes darting from the rain barrels back to the dirt and then the rain barrels again.

"You built this?” He asked with a soft voice.

Imogen stood a little taller. Even if she shouldn't have done it, she was proud of what she’d accomplished with her makeshift garden. "I did. The rain barrels are mostly from a construction site that had been abandoned when this area emptied out. But some of them needed to be sealed or have a bottom attached to keep the water from leaking."

She clamped her lips shut to stop herself from babbling.

Enver’s face softened, the lines around his mouth smoothing out and the squint of his eyes relaxing. He looked younger, less angry, like someone she wished she had the chance to know.

"How did you find dirt?" He knelt down and reached forward to touch the soil but stopped short before his cybernetic phalanges made contact.

"The dirt down there's not all dead," Imogen said. “The top layers have been dried out and nutrients striped thanks to the salt in the rivers, but if you dig deep enough, you can still find decent dirt. It took a long time, but I was able to get all this up here and so far it's been responding well to the water."

She wiped her hand across her brow pushing her blond bangs off her forehead, for the first time, she felt unconcerned with her appearance in front of Enver. She didn’t worry about modesty or whether she was dressed appropriately. She was just happy to show him what she'd done and have him appreciate it.

"I didn't think anything could grow here anymore. Have you planted anything yet?” Enver inched ever closer to the garden. He beheld the garden with all the enthusiasm of a child desperate to stick his hands in the soil and rummage around for whatever might be germinating within.

"Yeah, I mostly started with herbs. Verity picked up some for me at the market.”

Enver was unable to hide his derision for those who wasted money on seeds at the Cyn City markets, thinking they could grow their own food.

"Don't laugh,” Imogen scolded “Come see."

As she led him to the far end of the garden, his entire person transformed. He was excited, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet and gazing across the garden eagerly seeking evidence of her claim. He was a complete mystery. One minute he yelled at her, and the next he was the kindest, softest soul, doing anything to help alleviate a patient's pain. He seemed so much more comfortable with those in distress than with even the idea of having a friend. Chance’s occasional visits were the closest to friendly he ever got, but there was something about him that made Imogen want him to turn those excited, eager eyes in her direction. It spurred a longing she had thought died with Hiram.

Imogen shook her head and gathered her skirts up in her hands. "Here," she said when they reached the area where she planted herbs. "I started with these because they’re easy to grow and the best for medicinal purposes. I thought maybe we could supplement some of the medications you use with natural remedies, so it didn't cost you so much to run the Ward."

Enver tilted his head as he listened with an inscrutable expression on his face.

"Umm also, herbs can be used in food preparation," she said softly, shifting her eyes in the other direction.

"Are you suggesting my cooking is subpar?" Enver stared at her hard and then began to laugh.

Relief flooded Imogen’s system that he hadn't been offended, his reaction was more important to her than she’d realized. “Well, since you won’t let me cook even though I keep offering, I thought maybe you’d at least be open to suggestions. You know, like a little extra flavor—"

"—because if my cooking isn’t up to your standards, you're more than welcome to take over the duties." Enver chuckled and winked at her. It was the first time he’d done anything even akin to playfulness and Imogen basked in its warmth.

"Well, I could just provide some constructive feedback and you could continue cooking. Since you enjoy it so much, I wouldn't want to take away something that obviously brings you such fulfillment."

This time Enver barked out a laugh, his voice loud and strong. It lacked the always present sound of deep sorrow.

When Enver recovered he broke out in a wide smile. "Perhaps the best solution is for me to help you with the garden and for you to help me with cooking." The smile remained on his face as he waited some kind of answer from her.

He had never broached the topic of her living here being a long-term solution and something more than just a favor for Chance and Verity. She knew he appreciated her midwifery skills but she never got the impression he actually wanted her there. She did her best to stay out of the way and building this garden had been a part of trying to find ways to be happy here, alone.

She loved working at the Ward, helping people, and using the things she had been taught at the compound to make life easier. She smiled back and nodded her head.

What greeted her was her first glimpse of the most handsome man she had ever seen.