It plucked at the strings of his heart to have startled her. In the midst of her grief, she needed no other disturbances, but it was far too dark out now and much too cold to let her sit among the graves all alone. Once the blanket was taken, Malachi looked to the grave that sat before her. Recently placed, he knew, though he had spent little time in the graveyard when it was not called upon him to do so.

A whimper drew his eyes back to her. Malachi lowered himself to kneel beside her, but did not interrupt her sobbing. While she struggled through the weight of what must have been a dear loss, he took a breath of cool evening air, and assured, "there's nothing to be sorry for."

Whether her apologies were meant for him or for the woman buried beneath them, he didn't know. But he was certain of his answer all the same.

Only once she stirred again did Malachi rise. He followed her to stand, cautiously holding out an arm in case her stumbling went too far. When she had steadied herself, his eyes returned to her face, only somewhat illuminated by the pale light above.

"Of course. You can stay as long as you need, miss, it's not an issue," Malachi said with a dip of his head. He gestured to the gate, and started towards it to hold it open for her to pass through.