A steady stream of peas collected in the basin.
For several seconds, Rafe stared.
Then he began laughing.
Not at her.
At himself.
"Well, would you look at that."
Clay leaned closer.
Ned shook his head.
Rafe looked toward Hazel.
"Your little machine's still going."
Hazel smiled.
"Seems to be."
He laughed harder.
Then pointed toward the large drum.
"All that iron, and the little wooden thing's still earning its keep."
Hazel looked toward Wy.
He grinned.
For a moment, the entire group began laughing.
It was the first time Hazel had heard those three farmers laugh in her presence without feeling that she was the joke.
Then Clay examined the peas.
His expression became serious.
"How much work are you taking in now?"
Hazel explained the schedule.
Rafe nodded.
Ned listened carefully.
For a moment, the three men seemed more interested in understanding than criticizing.
But the laughter faded when Clay mentioned something else.
"There's a lot of peas going unshelled this year."
Hazel looked toward him.
He continued.
"People planted more after prices were good last summer. Now the commercial sheller is closing, and folks can't get their crops processed."
Rafe nodded.
"I've got more than I can handle."
Ned sighed.
"Same here."
Hazel looked toward the machines.
For a moment, she considered the possibilities.
Then asked, "How much are we talking about?"
The three men exchanged glances.
Clay gave her a number.
Hazel's heart sank.
It was far beyond what she could handle alone.
Even with the larger drum repaired.
She shook her head.
"That's too much for this shed."
Rafe looked disappointed.
But Hazel wasn't finished.
She continued.
"Not if we expect to process everything ourselves."
Ned frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Hazel looked toward the field.
Then toward the farmhouse.
For several seconds, she seemed to be calculating something.
Finally, she asked, "What happens to the peas you don't sell?"
Rafe shrugged.
"Some go to family. Some to neighbors. Some we feed to animals if they're still suitable."
Clay sighed.
"A lot just gets left because we can't get through it."
Hazel nodded slowly.
She looked toward Pearl.
Her grandmother had been listening.
For a moment, Pearl's expression changed.
Then she asked the men a question.
"How many people in this county would be glad to have those peas in February?"
The farmers stared.
Rafe frowned.
"February?"
Pearl nodded.
"When the gardens are empty."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.