At the end of the week, the last machine left the south field. Forty-one of the remaining fifty-four acres had been recovered enough to justify harvesting. Thirteen acres were recorded as substantially unharvestable under the conditions. Final grain quantities still depended on weights, moisture deductions, and settlement statements, but the central result was clear: she had brought in most of the crop. The farm would survive the harvest season. Whether it could survive all the bills still depended on the numbers.
Hollis stood in the kitchen late that evening with the final preliminary spreadsheet on her laptop. She had recorded custom-harvest charges, fuel, wagon repairs, emergency parts, towing, storage, handling, and the wages of people she hired. She had also estimated lost production and the grain that remained unsold. Some of the bills were larger than she wanted to see. But the grain receipts were large too, and the bank had agreed to apply the harvested proceeds according to the revised repayment schedule once settlement was completed.
Her shoulders dropped for the first time in ten days. She calculated again, slowly, not trusting the relief. The farm would not become rich. It would end the year with thin margins, necessary repairs postponed, and much less cash in reserve than a healthy business should have. But the primary loan would remain current under the planned payments, and she could fund seed and fertilizer deposits for the following season if prices did not shift dramatically. She might even afford to replace the barn's failing electrical panel before winter.
She closed the spreadsheet and called Wes. "I think we're going to make it."
He paused. "You're sure?"
"As sure as I can be before the final checks clear."
"Then I'll bring my wife over for supper Sunday. You can tell her how much I overcharged you for fieldwork."
"You gave me a discount."
"Don't spread that around. I have a reputation."
She laughed, and for one moment the kitchen sounded like it had when Roland was alive. The comparison made her eyes sting, but the pain was gentler now. She could hear her father in the conversation without feeling that the present had betrayed him.