Once.
Twice.
Then died.
Ryan looked at Ethan.
“Well.”
Ethan sighed.
“Progress.”
“That was progress?”
“It started.”
“For three seconds.”
“Three more than yesterday.”
Ryan laughed.
They kept working.
At nine that night, Ethan found the problem.
A damaged connector.
He replaced it.
Then turned the key.
The engine roared.
The sound shook the workshop walls.
Ryan jumped.
Ethan smiled.
“That's better.”
The tractor moved.
Ten feet.
Then stopped.
They discovered another problem.
The transmission slipped.
The brothers stared at each other.
Ryan finally spoke.
“How much?”
Ethan shook his head.
“Don't ask.”
They removed the transmission.
A damaged gear was the problem.
The replacement cost nearly $3,000.
They didn't have it.
Ryan sat on the workbench.
“What now?”
Ethan looked at the broken part.
“I'll find one.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
That was the hardest moment of the project.
Until then, every problem had had a solution.
Now the solution required money.
Real money.
Money the farm didn't have.
Ryan reached into his pocket.
“I've got four hundred.”
Ethan smiled.
“That doesn't help.”
“I know.”
They sat quietly.
Then Ethan remembered something.
His father's watch.
Harold's old wristwatch had been sitting in a drawer for years.
It was worth more than money.
But Ethan briefly considered selling it.
He opened the drawer.
Ryan saw what he was doing.
“No.”
Ethan stopped.
“We need the tractor.”
“Not like that.”
“Ryan—”
“No.”
Ryan walked over.
“Dad left us very little.”
Ethan looked at the watch.
“He left us the farm.”
“Exactly.”
They closed the drawer.
The next morning, Ryan called three people who owed the farm money.
Two paid immediately.
The third paid that afternoon.
They had enough.
The replacement transmission arrived two days later.
Ethan installed it.
The tractor started.
He engaged the clutch.
The machine moved.
Smoothly.
Ryan climbed into the passenger seat.
“You know what?”