The afternoon passed without major mechanical problems.
At approximately four o'clock, the final section of the field was harvested.
Emily stopped the combine and climbed down.
For several seconds, she stood in the middle of the field, looking at the bare rows and the scattered remains of the sunflower stalks.
Thirty-six acres.
Months of work.
An entire summer of criticism, uncertainty, and relentless effort.
Now the crop was out of the ground.
Frank approached her, carrying his cap in one hand.
"That's it."
Emily nodded.
"That's it."
He looked toward the wagon.
"How much do you think we got?"
Emily glanced at her notebook.
"Enough that I'm ready to find out."
They transferred the final load into the waiting truck.
The driver secured the trailer and climbed into the cab.
Emily collected the delivery documents, checked the buyer's appointment time, and climbed into her father's Ford.
The truck pulled onto the gravel road.
She followed it toward town, watching the trailer sway gently over the uneven surface.
The sun was beginning to sink toward the horizon, and the western sky had turned a deep shade of orange.
The drive seemed longer than usual.
Emily thought about the first morning at the feed store, when Ed Larson had laughed at her decision to plant sunflowers.
She remembered the questions, the jokes, the warnings, and the repeated predictions that she would lose the farm.
She also remembered the nights spent calculating expenses, the storm that had damaged part of the crop, and the hours she had spent repairing the combine.
Every decision had led to this moment.
The final truck was approaching the elevator.
And for the first time, Emily realized that the entire community might soon have to reconsider what it thought it knew about her.
The elevator was unusually busy when Emily arrived.
Several trucks were waiting near the unloading area, their engines rumbling beneath the fading evening light.
The scale operator recognized the sunflower truck and waved the driver toward the platform.
Emily parked her pickup beside the office and stepped out, carrying her notebook and the folder containing the contract documents.
Harold Bennett was standing near the entrance, speaking with Ed Larson and two other farmers.
When they saw the final sunflower load approaching, their conversation stopped.
Ed looked toward Emily.
"That the last one?"
"Yes."
"Finished already?"
"Just finished the field."
Ed studied the trailer, which was piled high with harvested sunflower seeds.
"Looks like a decent load."
Emily nodded.
"We'll see what the scale says."
The truck driver eased onto the platform.
The tires settled against the metal surface, and the scale operator checked the vehicle's position.
Inside the office, the operator entered the truck identification number and waited for the display to stabilize.
Emily stood beside the window.
The operator glanced at the screen, then checked the paperwork.
He looked again.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Emily noticed his expression change.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.