Stetson pulled the alternator off the tractor and carried it over to a workbench. Covered in a thick coating of grease and dirt, it didn’t look like much, but he was sure that with a bit of a tune-up, he could make it sing again.

Or at least put-put-put down the field. Wouldn’t that be something – he could start using this tractor around the farm a little again. Machines were meant to be used, not to just sit around under a tarp.

“Hey, Stets, you here?” Declan’s voice called out as the barn door squeaked and rattled open.

Dammit. What is he doing here?

Declan was certainly Stetson’s favorite brother – it wasn’t hard to be declared the winner in that contest, considering the competition – but that didn’t mean he wanted...

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