Hollis stiffened. "Who?"
"Didn't give a name. Claimed to be confirming equipment availability."
"What did you tell them?"
"That you'd have to answer any questions about your farm yourself."
She smiled faintly. "Thank you."
"You bet."
He drove toward the field. Hollis watched his taillights disappear, then looked at the old binder in her hands. She was beginning to suspect the machine had been stopped as part of somebody's plan. But suspicion would not return it to service. She needed proof, and she needed time to gather it. The farm crew was buying her that time, one grain ticket at a time.
The next morning began with a phone call from a woman Hollis had never met. Her name was Lena Ortiz, and she said she ran a small agricultural repair shop outside Vinton. She had heard the county radio interview, checked the weather, and wanted to know whether Hollis needed help sourcing older machinery parts. Hollis stood by the sink with cold water running over her hands and listened while Lena described the equipment she could bring. A used gathering chain. A guarded drive housing. A replacement tire for the second wagon. She offered to sell them at ordinary used-parts prices rather than charge a desperation premium.
"How do you even have those parts?" Hollis asked.
"I keep the things people throw away because somebody always needs them later. It's a very bad way to keep my shop organized and a decent way to keep farmers moving." Lena paused. "Your dad bought a starter motor from me once. He drove home two hours in the rain because nobody else had the right one."
Hollis closed her eyes. Everywhere she turned, another piece of Roland's life appeared. He had moved through this county for decades, borrowing expertise and offering his own without keeping score. She thanked Lena, agreed to meet at the barn, and added the expense to the ledger. A generous price did not mean the parts were free. She wanted the books to show what the harvest actually cost.
By then the weather had become an uneven opponent. The early storm band had weakened, but gusting winds continued to push through the fields. Some stalks were upright and dry enough to harvest. Others leaned at angles that made