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"Cub, honey, what’s wrong You dead?"

"About"

"I’ve seen you further gone than that, and resurrected at the sight of a cold beer"

He sat up straight "You got one?"

"Froainst the hay, taking off his Deere cap and settling it over his face She sat down opposite him on the lowest row of bales, which were stacked like a wide staircase leading up to the rafters Not many farms still maintained the equipe rolls that were handier to move with a tractor and fork But these ed one close for a footstool, swung up her short legs and leaned back against a prickly wall of hay, waiting for further signs of life frohest in theout on both ends He pulled his cap farther down over his face

"You’re just worn out," she offered

"No, it’s more than that"

"What, are you sick?"

"Sick and tired"

"Of what?"

"Fararette, aware that only a fool or city person would smoke in a hayloft It could catch fire in a flash But that would be in so turtles had dragged the for higher ground A little tobacco sree, for he lay silent awhile Then spoke fron a contract with soers"

"You mean to cut timber? Where?"

"That hollow up behind our house All the way to the top, he said"

"What possessed hi awhile"

"The taxes went up, and he’s got a balloon on his equipment loan You and I are behind on our house pay in even lower this year than last He’s thinking we’ll have to buy hay out of Missouri this winter, after we lost so much of ours"