I told him my grandfather had never once taken a dollar from a man who’d served his country.

“Brad was charging out-of-town guys four thousand dollars cash,” I said.

“He told people I’d okayed it.”

Dale didn’t blink or move in his chair.

His broad, callused hands stayed clasped together over his waist.

“I’m offering the eighty acres to you,” I said.

“You and two other men who served.

Opening week, free of charge, the way Arvid always did it.”