"You watched me lose fourteen days."
Sutter shrugged.
"We can't control the weather."
"But you controlled the repair schedule."
His jaw tightened.
"Watch your tone."
Claire gave a sharp, disbelieving laugh.
"My tone?"
She gestured toward the dead combine.
"That machine cost more than my house. Your company has been paid to maintain it, and you just told me my farm doesn't matter."
Sutter stepped closer.
"Listen carefully, young lady. Your warranty requires authorized service for certain covered work. If you let some roadside mechanic tear into that machine, don't expect us to cover whatever gets damaged."
Claire stared.
Then she reached into the front pocket of her overalls.
She removed a folded document.
Sutter watched suspiciously.
"What's that?"
Claire held it toward him.
"Notice that I'm ending the optional service agreement, subject to the contract's termination provisions."
He gave a contemptuous laugh.
"You think you can just walk away?"
She held his gaze.
"I'm giving formal notice."
He snatched the paper.
"You're making an expensive mistake."
Claire looked toward the dark horizon.
Then back at him.
"No."
Her voice was suddenly quiet.
"I made my expensive mistake fourteen days ago."
Sutter frowned.
"What mistake?"
She took a slow breath.
"Believing you were the only people who could fix my machine."
A gust of wind swept across the field.
Dust rose from the road.
The wheat bent in long golden waves.
Then an unfamiliar sound began growing behind them.
Engines.
Not one.
Several.
Sutter turned toward the southern farm road.
Through the blowing dust came a white service truck carrying tool cabinets and diagnostic equipment.
Behind it was a second truck.
Then a third.
Farther back, heavy farm equipment moved slowly along the access road.
Green combines.
Red combines.
An older yellow machine with a broad cutting header.
Each belonged to a different farm.
Each had been brought by someone who understood what Claire was facing.
Sutter stared.
"What is this?"
Claire watched the vehicles approach.
For the first time that afternoon, a small smile appeared on her face.
"The people you told me couldn't help."
The service manager looked toward the convoy.
Then back at her.
His expression changed.
He recognized several of the machines.
They belonged to some of the largest customers in his service district.
Customers whose accounts his company depended upon.
Customers he believed would never consider leaving.
Sutter stepped toward Claire.
"What have you done?"
She lifted her chin.
"Something I should have done years ago."
He stared at the approaching trucks.