Chris Peel watched out the window, waited, and hoped. He couldn’t make out what his Dad was saying to the man in the truck. He could hardly see him, but he knew it was almost over.
“Good morning, Owen.”
“Sheriff, you need to leave, now.”
“You have me mistaken for someone else, Owen. My name’s Sam Maxwell. I was here last year, and actually just signed on for another season with the Co-op.”
“I don’t care who you think you are today. Get out of here.”
“Hey, you called us for help. I’ll hit the road if that’s what you want, but, we’re here. I just need to know how many fields you want sprayed, and where they’re at.”
Owen bit his lip.
“I’ll pack up and go.”
“There are seven,” Owen said finally. “Two little fields by the house, and five out by the machine shed.”
“Are the crops all right?”
“They’re doing okay,” Owen said. “The beans are having trouble growing in this… Weather.”
“I’m going to gather up another couple of rigs,” I said. “We’ve equipped with GPS to spray at night. We should be ready to come back this evening, if you think that’ll be better for you.”
“If you could do anything to have the beans in that patch over near the road, that’d help us to get done a little quicker.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re sure you want us to wait to get started?”
Owen nodded. “I think it’s for the best. You’ll need help getting all of this work done.”