“Here, the contour rows reduced runoff speed enough for more water to infiltrate.”
Walter stared at the young trees.
“All this for dirt?”
Emily looked at him.
“What do you farm?”
He said nothing.
She continued.
“Machines?”
“No.”
“Bank notes?”
“No.”
“Seed catalogs?”
Walter sighed.
“Land.”
Emily nodded.
“So yes.”
She looked down.
“All this for dirt.”
Ray crossed his arms.
“How much difference?”
Thomas answered carefully.
“Too early for a full conclusion.”
Walter groaned.
“Thomas.”
“What?”
“You government people could watch a barn burn and say further study is needed.”
Everyone laughed.
Even Thomas.
Then he became serious.
“The visual difference is significant.”
He gestured toward sediment lines.
“Look.”
On Ray’s side, fresh brown deposits streaked toward the ditch.
Small rills cut exposed soil.
On Emily’s side, water had spread across vegetation.
Some erosion existed.
Far less.
Howard Bennett stood quietly.
Emily noticed.
“What?”
He looked toward the trees.
“Nothing.”
“You drove out here in dress shoes.”
Howard glanced at the mud destroying them.
“Apparently.”
“Why?”
He held up a folder.
“The bank.”
Emily’s stomach tightened.
Ray saw her face.
“Soil suddenly became interesting to bankers?”
Howard ignored him.
He walked toward Emily.
“I got Thomas’s preliminary note.”
Emily looked at Thomas.
He shrugged.
“You needed evidence.”
Howard opened the folder.
“The bank can revise the farm plan if projected productivity and asset condition have materially changed.”
Emily stared.
“English.”
Howard smiled.
“We can restructure.”
“How long?”
“Enough.”
Her breathing changed.
“Enough for what?”
“To keep going.”
Emily looked toward the farmhouse.
Then the trees.
Then Howard.
“How much payment?”
He gave the number.
Still painful.
Possible.
Emily calculated immediately.
Howard laughed.
“You're doing math in your head.”
“Yes.”
“Your grandfather did that.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
Howard held out the papers.
“Come by Monday.”
Emily took them.
Her hands shook slightly.
Ray looked away.
Walter noticed.
Said nothing.
The men eventually left.
Ray remained.
Emily repaired a washed-out section near one tree.
He walked beside her.
“You could've told me.”
“I tried.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You told me I was losing soil.”
“You laughed.”
“I’m old.”
“That isn't a defense.”
“Feels like one.”
Emily smiled slightly.
Ray looked across his field.
“How many rows would I need?”
She stopped.
“What?”
“If I did something similar.”
Emily stared.
Ray frowned.
“Don't make me ask twice.”