He had come to watch me fail.

He had sold his legacy to a wealthy stranger from Denver and told us in a two-minute phone call, and now he wanted a front-row seat to watch me lose it to a Grand Island corporation.

He believed I was going to tear down the white farmhouse and carve the eighty acres into town lots.

Mr.

Henderson had spread that rumor through the co-op, and Walt had swallowed it whole.

He thought I was standing out in the cold just to flip his son’s childhood home for a quick profit.