Jane lively appeared on laurie pritchart’s front porch while morning frost was still on the grass. the scattered clouds on the horizon were orange and pink, painting those same colors in reflections from the aluminum silo. the faint mooing of cows drifted from the barn, and jeb pritchart was busy fiddling with the spark plugs on his aging john deere tractor. he didn’t seem to notice the arrival of jane’s pickup truck. perhaps he didn’t care to notice it.
“morning, jane,” laurie said, stepping out onto the porch. “what brings you over so early? ”
as usual, jane’s mouth had a sour twist to it. “laurie,” she said, “i think you know why.”
laurie forced a smile. “is this about our fence line? ”
jane folded her burly arms across her chest, looked grim, and nodded. “two of your steers are poking around in our south pasture again.”
laurie laughed. “well, i’ll get jeb to send bobby over there to collect them—soon as i get a minute.”
“well,” jane said sharply, “i expect you to get to it right away. and i expect jeb to get to fixing that fence real quick. i don’t trust that bobby loomis to fix it right.”