Maya stood beside the open engine panel.
"How's it look?"
Claire asked.
Maya wiped her hands.
"Physical repair is holding. We're waiting on the final calibration access."
Claire nodded.
"How soon?"
"After the weather clears, if the contractor can reach us."
Claire looked toward the sky.
She felt fear rise.
The wheat was exposed.
The storm was coming.
And the fourteen days she had lost could not be recovered.
Then a pickup appeared along the farm road.
A navy-blue company vehicle.
AgriTech.
Claire watched it approach.
The truck stopped beside the combine.
Harlan Sutter stepped out.
He wore his beige cap and glasses.
A black tablet rested beneath his arm.
He looked toward Claire.
Then smiled thinly.
"Miss Whitaker."
She stood still.
"Mr. Sutter."
He glanced toward the open machine.
"I hear you've been having some trouble."
For a moment, she could not believe the words.
Then she laughed.
It was the sound of somebody who had passed beyond ordinary anger.
"You hear?"
Sutter frowned.
Claire gestured toward the combine.
"I've been calling you for fourteen days."
He adjusted his glasses.
"Let's keep this professional."
She looked at him.
For a moment, she thought about every hour she had spent waiting.
Every field left untouched.
Every forecast she had checked.
Every promise that evaporated before the next morning.
Then she looked toward the paperwork in her pocket.
She was done pleading.
"Fine," she said quietly.
"Let's be professional."
The storm darkened behind them.
And the confrontation that would change both their futures began.
The first hailstone struck the roof of the service truck just as Claire turned away from Harlan Sutter.
It made a sharp metallic crack.
Then another followed.
And another.
Within seconds, the muddy farm track was dotted with white stones of ice.
Claire looked toward the northwest.
The funnel beneath the storm had become more clearly defined, and the dark clouds above it were moving with a speed that made her stomach tighten.
A weather alert sounded from her phone.
Then another came from Maya's.
Grant Miller stepped out of the leading truck and looked toward the sky.
"That's too close."
Claire nodded.
"Cellar. Now."
She raised her voice.
"Everybody to the storm cellar! Leave the equipment!"
There was no debate.
The farmers abandoned the machinery where it stood.
Maya secured her diagnostic case.
Eli directed the truck drivers toward the marked shelter route.
Grant called to the men arriving behind him.