LITMIR.BIZ

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with work and accomplishments, but it didn’t seem to help. Each step forward made him want to reach for the next level.

      The screen door screeched as he opened it. Inside the house it was cool with the windows open and the lights out. He flung the mail on the kitchen table and started to set his bag on the chair when he caught sight of an envelope with red on it.

      FINAL NOTICE. Brady snatched the bill and sank into the kitchen chair.

      “Sam?” he yelled.

      No one answered. Sam must be down in the field or in the barn. Brady tore open the envelope and stared at the balance. He shifted through the other mail and found a few more overdue bills.

      He stormed out the back door and crossed to the barn. Soundgarden’s “Fell on Black Days” blasted from the garage in the back. The garage smelled of oil and gasoline, bringing forward the memory of his father, leaning over their old truck’s engine while Brady, barely Amber’s age, sat on the toolbox ready to hand him a tool, loving every moment of his father’s attention.

      “What is this?” Brady demanded as he hit the off button on the dirt-coated boom box.

      Sam rolled out from under the tractor on the creeper their father had always used. His face was smeared with grease and sweat. He glanced at the notices in Brady’s hands. “None of your business.”

      He rolled back under the tractor.

      “I sent money. How did you get behind?” Brady moved around the tractor, trying to see Sam’s face.

      Sam stayed under the tractor and swiped at his face with an old rag that was too dirty to do any good. His blue coveralls had rips in one knee and were badly in need of a wash. He dropped the wrench and grabbed a screwdriver.

      “Dammit, Sam. This is something you need to pay attention to. You can’t ignore these and hope they’ll go away.” The balance on the bill in Brady’s hand was a couple of thousand alone. But combined with the others and the ones he didn’t know about, it could be a hefty sum. “They could force you to file bankruptcy.”

      “I’ll take care of it,” Sam grumbled.

      “If you need money, I can help—”

      “Money?” Sam rolled out from under the tractor and sat with his arms resting on his knees. The expression on Sam’s face said Brady was being ignorant. “And that will solve everything?”

      “In this case…” Brady looked pointedly at the bill. “Yes.”

      “Do you remember how to work?” Sam pushed to his feet and dropped the screwdriver into a metal tool chest with a loud clang before slamming the drawer shut.

      “I work every day—”

      “Behind that little computer of yours. Pushing buttons.” Sam made little typing motions in the air before he jerked open another drawer and pulled out a socket wrench.

      “And I make money doing it. I use my brains and not my brute strength. I create jobs for people.” Brady met Sam’s gaze. He wasn’t going to give in on this. What he did was important. It took a lot of effort to coordinate the projects to make sure everything went smoothly and according to plan.

      “And I don’t use my brain?” Sam tapped the socket wrench against his hand, lightly.

      “It’s different and it doesn’t change the fact that you are swimming in a sea of debt that this farm can’t sustain.”

      “How would you know?” Sam dropped down on the rolling cart, planting his feet firmly on the concrete floor. “What do you know about farming?”

      Brady opened his mouth and closed it. He’d been away for eight years. Though he’d helped Mom balance the bank accounts and been the one to figure out their father’s will and hers, he knew nothing about what the finances were now.

      “It took Dad, you, me and Luke to keep this farm running on a regular basis during the summer. If the farm had a good year with sufficient rain for The crops and the coyotes didn’t get too much of the livestock, we made ends meet.” Sam pointed the socket wrench at Brady. “The money you sent helped pay for part of this barn.”

      “I sent a hell of a lot more money than—”

      “And you had a child that needed taking care of.”

      “If I’d known about my child, I would have taken care of her.”

      “I didn’t need the money.” Sam acted as if Brady hadn’t said anything. “We were doing fine. Luke was home for the summers for a few years. But then he got busy with med school. I had to pay for someone to come and work our farm.” Sam cracked his neck. “I fell behind a little. Sue me.”

      Sam disappeared under the tractor. Brady wasn’t ready to push the fact that Sam had kept Amber a secret. Losing the farm was too important. It would have destroyed his parents.

      Brady couldn’t erase time and return to Tawnee Valley eight years ago and hang around to help out. He couldn’t erase what had happened to Maggie, Sam or Amber. All he could do was offer the future.

      “Let me look over your books,” Brady said.

      “What? So you can tell me what I’m doing wrong?” The sound of metal hitting metal emanated through the garage.

      “What do you think I’ve been doing the past eight years?”

      “Besides getting soft?”

      “Working on budgets and figuring out how to minimize spending and maximize profits.” Brady started to lean against the workbench, but when a daddy longlegs shuffled past, he decided against it. “If you won’t take my money, at least let me figure out a payment plan, so you can find your way out of this hole without losing the farm.”

      “I won’t lose the farm.” Not even a hint of fear in Saint Sam’s voice, but there was an underlying tightness. “You weren’t the only one with plans. I was at college when Mom got sick, but I gave that up for her, you and Luke. And when Mom died and left Luke to me, I made you go to college, follow your dreams. Figuring you’d find your way home eventually. Guess I was wrong about that.”

      “I never meant to dump that on you,” Brady bit out. He’d struggled with the guilt, but he’d known he had to go his own way.

      “This farm has been in our family for over a century. I won’t lose it now.” Sam banged something with the wrench. The sound of metal against metal reverberated in the space.

      “Just let me look it over.” Brady felt as though he was ten trying to convince twelve-year-old Sam to let him have a turn with the basketball.

      Sam rolled out and wiped his hands on the dirty rag. “Only if you get off your damn high horse and make yourself useful around here.”

      “Do you have any idea how much work I have to do?” Brady could feel his face getting redder by the second. Between Maggie’s demands and Sam’s, he wouldn’t be able to get any work done on the Detrex project.

      “I’m sure there’s someone as fancy as you working up there in New York, getting things done just fine without you.” Sam stood and took the bill from Brady’s hands. He glanced over it with his usual stoic face.

      Fighting with Sam was as fruitless as fighting with Maggie. He’d done them both a disservice and owed them a little of his time in payment. he had left his brother when he needed him most. Sam had raised Luke, no matter how much Brady tried to justify that he’d been away at school. He could have gone to a college closer, so he could help whenever needed. But he’d let his pain control him, and New York hadn’t been far enough away. He’d had to detach himself so much that he hadn’t bothered to keep in touch with anyone from Tawnee Valley except for Luke. Even then, Luke had been the one contacting him, not the other way around.

      Maybe he could make up for the time that he’d lost by helping out. He glanced at his watch and wondered what Maggie was

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