“I need to figure out how much we can afford,” I said.

Sarah stopped wiping the counter.

“Afford for what?”

“To buy it from him,” I said.

I pushed the ground beef around the cast iron skillet with a wooden spoon.

The grease sizzled and popped against the hot metal, filling the kitchen with a heavy, savory smell.

Luke came in through the back door and dropped his plastic lunchbox on the kitchen island.

He was still wearing his heavy canvas work coat from the county shop, and his boots left wet tracks on the linoleum.