My Father Brought a Locksmith to Sell the Ranch I Bought
“I can handle them,” I said. “I have some cedar posts in the barn.”
“It is heavy work for one person,” Thomas said, leaning against the side of his truck. “Especially with the ground as rocky as it is up on that ridge.”
“I have a crowbar and a post spade,” I said. “I will take it one post at a time.”
Thomas nodded once, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You always were stubborn, Olivia. Just like your mother.”
“She knew how to hold onto what was hers,” I said.
“That she did,” Thomas said, climbing back into the cab. “If you need the tractor to pull those old footings, you know where the keys are. They are always in the ignition.”
I stood in the barnyard and watched the green truck back down the driveway, its tires crunching over the frozen snow until it reached the county road. The sound of the engine gradually faded, leaving only the quiet whistle of the wind through the dry grass along the ditch.
