The boar hog was advertised on a card at the grocery store for only twenty-five dollars, but the Jentzen farm was going to be a long, slow drive, farther down LaSalle Road than Jill had traveled, past where the blacktop gives way to gravel and farther past, where it twists and turns and becomes a rutted two track. Ernie was finishing the milking when Jill hooked up the stock trailer. He had given her directions already, but before she pulled away, he came out and stood beside the truck and studied her, the way he’d done when she went to Ann Arbor last time. They’d been married almost a year, but maybe he hadn’t been sure she was coming back.
“Are you sure your foot’s OK?” Ernie asked. A cow had stepped on it when a stray dog ran through the barn a few days ago, and she was wearing the laces on her work boot loose.
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