She approached slowly, glancing over the field, then at the woman, who was still yelling into her phone beside her stranded SUV. “Morning, Eli,” Claire said. “Morning, Claire.” “Can you tell me what’s going on here?”
Eli set his seed bag down and leaned on the tractor. “Plowing my field,” he said. “Just like every spring. Been on the calendar since January.” Claire raised an eyebrow. “And the cars?” “Well,” Eli said, scratching his chin, “they were already parked there when I came out,”