“Uncle Darrell would have had my hide if he saw you lifting those bags alone,” Brody said. Before I could answer, he took the seed bag out of my arms, tore it open, and poured it into the planter box. Then he grabbed another. By the time the boxes were full, Kenzie was standing in the tractor cab grinning under her father’s cap.

Brody wiped his hands on his jeans and looked back across the road at his father. “I didn’t just come to help, Aunt Shannon,” he said quietly. “The bank called Dad again last night. They’re giving him and Uncle Rusty until July, or they’ll take the whole place. Dad’s too proud to ask.” He swallowed hard. “But you’re the only one who ever understood those books.”