“Mr.

Henderson talks too much,” I said.

I pulled another pair of three-dollar jeans from the pile and checked the paper tag.

“Are we really doing all this for an eighty-acre farm we might never get?” Luke asked.

“We’re doing this because it’s the only way we’ll ever have a chance,” I said.

Luke stared at the canvas bag hanging from my shoulder.

“Four years of this is going to break us,” he said.