Loving the Land Ch. 03

My favorite family of farmers comes full circle, with experiences both touching and painful.

Thank you for following this adventure of Ryan and Beth. If you have not read chapters 1 and 2, please do so before reading this final chapter.

I appreciate those who follow me and for the kind remarks many have left after reading a story. For a list of my favorites of my own writings, check out my author's page. As always, please rate, follow, and enjoy.

--(--)--

The next five years seemed to fly by. I felt as though I turned around and Megan was 17 and a junior in high school. Nathan was 14 and in 8th grade, and those two had assumed some duties on the farm.

Nathan loved driving the small trucks, whether manual or automatic, and that summer had driven the 7920 tractor as we fertilized. Either Beth or I sat in the buddy seat with him, but he did fine and finished a full section alone.

Megan drove a combine the previous year after returning from school each day, and this summer she managed the entire sweet corn harvest.

Both of them had an affinity for farm vehicles, but Nathan seemed to like working on the machines themselves, so he did all the oil changes on the combines that summer.

One of our challenges those five years was how young our children were, but now Emily was 11, Victoria was 8 and Anna was 6. Emily was in charge when Beth, Megan, Nathan and I were at work in the fields.

Our plan for the big harvest was to have Megan take over Beth's combine when she got home from school. Then Beth could help with homework and work on dinner for the kids, with Emily's help.

For us in the field, Nathan drove to the house to pick up sandwiches and drinks and distributed them to us.

On Saturdays, Megan drove a combine all day, along with Beth and me. Nathan spent some time riding with a driver of the big grain trucks and drove under his supervision to collect from combines for a couple of hours.

We had continued with the tradition established by Julie, of gathering after the harvest ended, dressed in our finest, to celebrate the end of a successful year. As usual, Julie and Beth were gorgeous. I sat next to Beth and loved the perfume she wore.

After seeing her in cutoffs for most of the summer, the slinky black dress she wore was a treat. As we finished eating, we all exchanged funny stories from that year of farm work. My hand was on Beth's leg. As we talked, I moved my hand up and between her legs, which opened slightly at my touch.

Beth leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"Listen, Mr. Highmiller, you're driving me wild. I want you inside me tonight."

I suppressed a smile and glanced at Hank, directly across from me. Julie had just nibbled on his ear. I still believed she was a handful.

Megan organized the kids to do the dishes. Beth and I hugged Hank and Julie and saw them to the door. I told Megan to make sure the kids got bed and the lights were off and the door locked.

She gave me a big grin.

"Sure thing Dad. You two have fun."

Beth kissed me on the cheek. "That's solid advice, dear."

--(--)--

When Beth came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, she found our bedroom was illuminated by candles. She wore my favorite black lingerie, but she had not bothered with the bra. She came to me, knelt at my feet, and removed my boxers.

As her lips closed around me, I marveled at how skilled she had become over the years. I reached down and pulled her to her feet.

"Beth, I know this may sound trite, but it's how I feel. You are more beautiful to me today, after all these years and five children, than you were the day we first sat together in that music class."

We hugged and kissed, and then Beth looked into my eyes.

"That was such a sweet thing to say. You choose how you want to make love tonight."

"That's easy, woman. Get on your hands and knees."

She laughed and then complied.

Sometime later, Beth lay in my arms as we both fell asleep.

--(--)--

After the harvest there is always a certain amount of field cleanup. We sprayed the fields as we had been doing for years and disced the cowpeas that we had planted between the rows of corn. Those were our first steps for next year's corn.

We also decided not to grow soybeans the next year. We originally planted them to rotate crops, but with our other means of enhancing the soil, it was hard to justify when the price of beans was so weak. We had fine-tuned all of our soil treatments, and now routinely got around 265 bushels per irrigated acre, which we calculated as 90% of each section.

Our costs, before irrigation, were typically around $850-$900 per acre. We still owed part of the money for Wilson's three sections, but we had paid down about 75% of it due to several excellent years, including one where we hit 275 bushels per acre and ended up with a profit of about $300 per acre.

We still had 9 sections, or 5,760 acres, but that winter Hank got a call from one of our neighbors. Another man who, like Wilson, was ready to retire, but had no family members to continue the farm. He had four sections, 2,560 acres, complete with pivots, although one of the pivots was in sorry shape and probably needed to be replaced.

The four of us sat down to discuss the opportunity. Hank said it would take about $1,000,000 down and we could finance for about a $330,000 payment each year. That would mean adding about $52 of cost per acre.

I asked what added equipment we would need. Hank felt that without the soybean distraction, we could manage the harvest with existing equipment.

"Hank, I'm uneasy about using most of our cash reserves. That money gives us a huge amount of security."

Then Julie spoke up.

"You know, I have four sections by my old house. I know it's too far away for us to manage properly, but I have it rented out now. What if we offered to sell to him, or to anyone else who might be interested? Then we'd have the cash to buy these."

We all sat there, a little stunned. Why not indeed?

"Hank, if we did that, we could pay cash for the land here and avoid that increased debt cost entirely. I like it."

We figured we would give her present tenant notice of our intent to sell but allow him to make the first offer. To Julie's surprise, he had been considering buying her land. They agreed on $2500 per acre, and a couple of months later, Julie had a check for just over six million dollars.

Hank was able to get the four sections near us for $2250 per acre, with the pivots included. Instead of spending our cash on a down payment, we pocketed nearly $500,000. That winter, we had a company come in and dismantle the old pivot and install a new one. They even replaced the pump on the well, which was on its last legs. We paid cash for that, and still had plenty left over from Julie's land.

We now had 13 sections of land, 8,320 acres.

I was teaching Nathan to drive a tractor, so during our discing, he sat in the cab with me, and he took over driving several times. I also had him on the 7920 with the row crop wheels, so he could manage some of the fertilizing in the summer. That winter he did all the oil changes on the combines and learned how to replace broken or worn out cutting knives on the corn heads.

Nathan seemed to have a genuine aptitude for mechanics and enrolled in a couple of shop classes in junior high.

That winter, Beth took Emily out and taught her how to drive the blue F-150, the one with automatic transmission. Emily was a little small, but I saw the excitement on her face as they drove by one afternoon.

We had a little repair work to do in a couple of fields, such as one place where heavy rainfall caused a small flood to tear through part of a field. I had to get out there and drag that area level again, and the same with two places where wheels on pivot towers dug down into mud.

--(--)--

One night the phone rang. It was a caller for Megan. Her face lit up, but she waved me out of the kitchen so she could talk in private. They talked for a long time, and then she came out and wanted to talk to Beth.

A boy had asked her out.

A few days later, I got to meet Preston. Nice kid, and very respectful. Hank said he knows Preston's grandfather, who has a farm about 10 miles west of ours.

They went out for pizza. Other dates followed, about once a week through the winter. They were both juniors, and he asked her to the junior prom.

Beth went to work on her, and that night I had to admit I had never seen Megan look so beautiful.

As we watched them leave, Beth hugged me.

"You know, Megan might not be our next generation farmer. At least not on this farm."

Sure enough, the next year, just before they graduated from high school, Preston proposed to Megan. He was helping his dad on the family's farm, and Megan was moving there.

Fortunately, Nathan was now 15 and going into 9th grade. That was the year I taught him how to drive a planter with guidance. He loved it. Absolutely came alive. I promised he would learn to drive a combine that Fall.

I missed Megan.

The kids were a year older and all in school, and Beth was more comfortable spending the day on a tractor during planting week. When the kids came home, they went to Grandma Julie's.

We put in long hours, because we now had 13 sections of corn. About 20 acres were sweet corn.

When the corn was about 6 inches tall, we planted cowpeas in between the rows as usual. I showed Nathan how to harvest the sweet corn. He rode with me on 10 acres, and the next week harvested the rest himself.

I began to realize that while Nathan had a natural aptitude as a mechanic, he loved driving the machines even more. He also shot up in size that year.

Hank and I had made a good team. We had become big believers on having our soil analyzed and then applying the recommended amendments. We had seen the proof in our improved yields. Hank had always been a good producer, but now we were producing 10%-15% more per acre.

It showed in our company bank and investment accounts, where we had over a million dollars. That was also the result of having little debt.

Nathan's Sophomore year we recorded our worst year together, with near-drought weather that had us irrigating 15 times. We lost about $300,000 that year, but the next year we made about $475,000.

When I met Beth, Hank was farming six sections of land, 3,840 acres. Now we were farming thirteen sections, with 8,320 acres. We were more efficient and were able to harvest about 12.5 acres an hour per machine. If we had all five combines on one section, we could finish in about 10 hours. That was best case, of course. In reality, about a day and a half. Part of the reason it took longer was the heavy yield.

--(--)--

One evening in March, Preston and Megan pulled up in front of the house. They had an ultrasound photo. They were having a baby boy! Due in September.

That night, Beth and I made love and then lay together talking about how surreal it felt that our oldest was going to be a mother.

"You know what this means, Babe?"

"What?"

"You're going to be a grandmother."

"Where have the years gone?"

"You do know why this happened, right?"

She gave me a quizzical look.

"Sex."

--(--)--

When the baby was born, it was right before harvest started. They named him Jeffrey, and Beth got to hold him right after Megan. Julie arrived soon after and had to meet her great-grandson.

Emily was fifteen and anxious to drive a combine. She spent time with me and also with Beth, and then got to drive several afternoons after school, with one of us riding in the buddy seat. She did great.

That season we had another fabulous year. We had costs of $909 and revenue of $1215 per acre.

We made several decisions. We decided to sell our oldest combine and buy a much newer one. We hoped to do that again the following year, and then every other year until we had upgraded all five.

Beth and I decided to go on a cruise, and Nathan, who was about to graduate from high school, decided to enroll in an agriculture trade school that had an 800 acre farm over in Beatrice. I sat down with him to go over the cost. It would take him four terms, with a cost of about $12,000 total.

"Nathan, what do you want to do long-term?"

He gave me a blank look.

"Dad, I guess I just assumed I would remain here on the farm and be part of the 7th generation. I think Emily might, as well, although she might marry and move away, like Megan."

"Why do you want to stay on this farm?"

"I love this land."

--(--)--

Beth and I left in April and cruised the Mediterranean. It was wonderful to get away and focus on each other. We were never quite as sexually active again as twenty years before, but it was good. We made love almost every day and loved sleeping naked.

We went on more shore excursions but spent time in the hot tub on the ship several evenings. We loved walking along the deck as the sun went down, then standing and kissing. Beth could still wear a bikini, although she was more comfortable with a sexy one-piece.

--(--)--

We found a three-year-old John Deere S7 800 combine that was only about 25 miles away and being sold by a corporate farm operator. We were able to get it for $410,000 and also bought a fairly new corn head for $61,000. We put about half down and made payments for five years.

Nathan was home all summer and did a huge amount of work in the fields. He planted almost full-time and planted the entire sweet corn crop.

Emily was excited to plant alongside Nathan for a couple of days, but it was the harvest that she was eagerly waiting for.

Hank turned 68, and showed no signs of slowing down, but he and Julie squeezed in an Alaska cruise in August. He never would have been away from the farm at that time of year, but by now, Beth and I were making most operational decisions.

A couple of weeks after they returned, Beth had gotten Julie to tell-all. It was as before. Hank wore her out. She came home with sore hips.

I just noticed Hank was smiling a lot.

--(--)--

One thing that helped immensely was our ability to provide drivers for all five combines, at least in the afternoons during the week. That reduced our costs for some of the farm help we previously used.

We had a good year, with profits of about $197 per acre. Our biggest problem was one we couldn't control. The price we got for corn was weak. That year, we put more in storage than ever before, hoping for a slight increase in prices.

--(--)--

Nathan was in his senior year and applied to the community college and its Agriculture Management and Production program. It would take four semesters, and he would be available from about the second week of May until mid-August each year. His acceptance came back within a month.

As part of that process, we talked a lot. I wanted him to understand something about me.

"Nate, I was a math major. I planned to get a PhD and teach at a university. Then I fell in love with your mother and this farm. Now I'm a first generation farmer. Almost everything I've learned has been from Hank and your mother.

"You're going to be taught someone's idea of best practices, and I want you to watch for ideas we can use or at least experiment with."

Something else occurred to me as Spring came on. One day, Hank and I were going over the maintenance charts for each of our major pieces of equipment. Anything that performed field work or transported crops had a chart.

"Hank, did Nathan tell you about his plan to get a degree in Agribusiness?"

"He seems excited, but what I loved was hearing him talk about farming this land with us."

"He might not be the only one, but I wanted to ask something about Nate. If he marries and wants to settle down here, what's our plan for a home for them?"

"I guess I set the bar a little high with you and Beth."

"Probably true, but it's worked out, hasn't it?"

"Ryan, you are like a son to me. Marrying you was the best thing Beth ever did and the best thing for our farm."

"I wasn't really fishing for something like that, but thanks. If we decide to build them a home, where do you think we might do it?"

"I was thinking about that recently as well. We could use that acreage where Wilson's home was, just not on the same spot. We also might need to pay to have his old septic tank removed if we want to use that same area for a new one."

"Can I suggest something? We could consider carving out a couple of acres from the land we bought a few years ago. If we did it in the corner, where the pivot doesn't reach anyway, we wouldn't lose valuable land."

"I like that idea, but there are trees on the old Wilson land."

"One other thought. Let's design something smaller that can be enlarged down the road. Part of the reason I'm saying this is Emily seems determined to farm as well. Who knows how that will play out, though."

"Thanks for thinking that through, Ryan. Fortunately, there's no rush. At least not yet."

--(--)--

Planting season was upon us, so Beth and I worked the mornings, with Hank driving the seed truck. Nate came and relieved Beth when he got home from school, and Emily brought out a fuel truck so we could top off each afternoon.

With the acreage we now farmed, we had to figure about 11 days using the two big tractors with 24-row planters. That's 11 days of about 12 hours a day. I was tired by the end of planting.

The last couple of days of planting, Beth treated me to back rubs. I loved the way she got naked with me and oiled up her body to slide seductively over me. Of course, both nights had happy endings. The first night she wanted to watch it spray all over my chest, but the second night she swallowed.

The best sleep of the planting season. What a sexy girl I married!

--(--)--

We also had another driver. Victoria had turned 12 the year before, so she got her F-150 practice. Then we discovered she loved driving an ATV, so she ran a lot of errands to and from the fields.

She was already pushing to try a combine, but she reluctantly settled for practicing driving a couple of our tractors.

Nathan asked if he and Emily could manage the sweet corn planting. He planted 10 acres and Emily planted 10 with him sitting in the buddy seat.

I watched when they came back from the field and Emily was driving. She pulled into the shed so we could decouple the planter, but she and Nate stood in the cab and high-fived each other. Those two were closer than either had been with Megan.

That summer I spent a lot of time with Nate, helping him understand how the irrigation pivots work. Of our 52 pivots, all but 15 had the upgraded control box that allowed us to use our phones to set up a watering program and start them. I showed him how to do that and also how to start the manual ones.

Of more interest to me as a guy with a math degree, was how every sprinkler nozzle on a pivot was numbered, and each was set to a slightly higher flow rate as one moved out from the pivot to the last tower. The ones on the end moved faster, so the flow rate had to be higher than the ones near the pivot in the center of the field.

That concept wasn't intuitive for Nate, so I had to get him to remember the formula for the circumference of a circle and start with a sprinkler 20 feet from the pivot, as opposed to the one on the far end, which was about 2600 feet from the pivot.

"Nate, if all these heads had the same flow rate, the center of the pivot would be flooded, and the outer ring would be barely wet."

"How do you know how to set it?"

"If there's a number on the head, showing its position, we can look it up. When in doubt, I call the local dealer. Now, to see whether you understand, I want you to tell me tomorrow who rotates faster, someone standing a quarter mile from the North Pole, or someone standing on the equator."

Nate was probably one of those who said there was no use for math!

--(--)--

Nate started school in the middle of August. It was a half-hour drive to the Beatrice campus, so he took my ancient Corolla with almost 300,000 miles on it. I had bought a 2018 F-350 with the 7.4 liter diesel Power Stroke engine.

Almost every night at dinner, Nate was talking about things he learned. He was inhaling each class. Then one night, he talked about a girl. I glanced at Beth and our eyes met.

"You know, Nate," said Beth, "meeting someone in a class never works out."

Nate thought she was serious, but Emily got the joke right away.

That night in bed, Beth and I laughed over her comment to Nate.

"We'll see what happens. She might be some weird student, like a math major."

"You're really on a roll tonight."

"How about if you roll me over on my tummy and make me stick my butt in the air?"

I didn't have to do anything. She was already there and waiting to be serviced properly. A few minutes later, I collapsed on her back, totally spent. I was still inside her and had not gone limp.

After a couple of minutes, I got off her, rolled her onto her back and mounted her again, missionary style. She whimpered in my ear as I thrust deep into her. She was frantically clutching my back as she came, and I wasn't far behind.

--(--)--

The harvest was long, made longer by the loss of our oldest combine. We didn't take time to tear it down, but we thought the oil pump had gone out. Fortunately, Nate shut it down quickly when he saw the low oil pressure light. It would have to be fixed after the harvest.

In the meantime, we towed it to the shed with our biggest tractor. It could wait.

It took us about three and a half weeks, but that was also because we had a day of rain and needed to wait another day for things to dry again.

It was a good harvest. Our cost per acre was $967, and revenue was $1194, so $227 per acre profit.

Once Nate and I tore down the oil pump, it was clear it had failed. We drained the oil and checked the filter and the oil pan, and there was only a tiny amount of metal. We got a new pump and installed it, and once we had new oil in it, we ran that for about 30 minutes as he drove it around the farm yard.

When we checked the oil again, we found no glitter and breathed a sigh of relief. We sold it for $80,000 and bought another S7 800 for $412,000. We paid the difference in cash.

At our harvest celebration dinner, Nate brought Amanda, a cute blond with blue eyes. I could definitely see how she got Nate's attention.

She told us her father grew corn on their family's farm about 50 miles west of Lincoln. She was also in the Ag program with Nate and wanted to farm her father's land someday.

"Unless, of course, I marry someone who's already on a family farm. Then I'd want to do that."

I made sure to praise Nate and offered a toast for catching the fuel pump problem before it cascaded into the need for a new engine.

I looked at Hank. Later he whispered he would call Mitch and put him to work on plans.

That night, Beth kissed me. We were standing by the window in our darkened room. Nate and Amanda were standing by the back fence, kissing.

Beth turned to me and gave me one of those fiery kisses like when we were dating.

"What was that for?"

"Ummm, I was hoping you would pick up on how horny I am tonight."

With that, she pushed me on my back, worked on the state of my firmness, and then rode me cowgirl style until I groaned a little too loudly and filled her.

The next morning, Emily looked at me with a totally straight face and asked, "Are you feeling ok, Dad? I heard you groan last night and worried you might be sick."

I looked her straight in the eyes and said I was fine. "It passed quickly."

Beth started laughing and excused herself to get a napkin.

Emily was in her sophomore year at the high school and was getting a lot of attention from boys. During the harvest, though, she turned down a couple of dates, knowing she was needed to drive a combine. That was her first year driving solo, and she was determined not to miss anything.

--(--)--

It was Christmas faster than seemed possible, but Megan, Preston and Jeffrey spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with us. Amanda came on Christmas Eve and played with Jeffrey. It was clear to me Nate was totally smitten.

I half expected Nate to talk to me about Amanda, but that came a couple of months later. It was a Saturday, and he and I were with a crew from the irrigation dealer. They were upgrading the circuit boards of four of our pivots. As we watched them work, Nate started talking.

"Dad, I'm in love."

"No shit."

He looked a little startled and then understood. We laughed about it, but I told him that it was the worst kept secret in our family's history.

"What are your plans?"

"We've talked, and if we marry, she wants to farm here with me and my family. She seems to really like you, which I'm at a loss to understand."

We were both laughing.

"Ok, so what are your plans?"

"I think I want to propose to her this semester and get married in late May. Could we live in my bedroom?"

"Don't you only have a twin bed in there?'

"Yeah, but ..."

"We need to see if a queen will fit or perhaps move you to another bedroom."

"Thanks, Dad. I love you."

"Nate, I'm thrilled that you and Amanda will be here, farming with us. Beth will be pleased too, but she'll also like having grandbabies to play with."

I told Beth that night about my talk with Nate. Beth cried. Then we made love.

It was late March when Nate and Amanda pulled up in front of the house. I was in the equipment shed with Hank, going over remaining equipment maintenance schedules. We both looked up and saw the Corolla.

"Hank, I'd better go see, but don't be surprised if we're having a wedding in May."

I walked towards the house and Nate saw me coming. He had just opened the car door for Amanda, and they walked to me. Their smiles gave it away."

"Well, come on in. Might as well make one announcement."

I called for Beth as we walked in. She stuck her head around the corner, took one look at the situation, and asked to wait. She had a pot on the stove she needed to turn off.

"Mom and Dad, last night I asked Amanda to marry me."

Amanda held up her ring, which Beth had to go see closely and hug her..

I hugged Nate and then walked over to Amanda, pulled her to her feet and gave her a big hug.

"Welcome to the family, Amanda. We're all a little crazy, but then you agreed to marry Nate, so you should fit right in."

Emily came up from the basement and hugged Amanda. Then she really hugged Nate and cried on his shoulder.

The doorbell rang and Hank and Julie opened the door to join in the news and celebration.

As joyful as that evening was, in retrospect it was bittersweet. That evening was the last day Amanda got to spend time with Grandpa Hank.

--(--)--

Just three weeks later, on a Saturday morning, my cell phone rang just before 5 am. It was Julie. Frantic. Something was wrong with Hank.

Had she called the EMT's?

"On their way. Come quickly."

"Beth! Get up and dress quickly. Something's wrong with Hank!"

We threw on our clothes and ran over to Hank and Julie's home. The EMT's had just arrived, and we saw them go inside. Julie waited for us.

"What happened Julie?"

"I woke up and rolled over and put my arm around him. I wanted to wake him and have a little fun, but I couldn't wake him. He was breathing, but slowly. The EMT's asked me to have everyone wait down here."

After a few minutes, one of the EMT's came down. He said they had been in touch with the doctors at the Beatrice Community Hospital, but Hank's condition called for taking him to CHI Hospital in Lincoln.

"We've been asked to give a medication for stroke victims, but to transport him at once. I suggest you head that way as well. Do you know where it is? In the Heritage Lakes area?"

We nodded.

"Julie, let me get my truck, and you can ride with us."

Beth and I ran over to get the truck, and she woke Nate and told him what was happening. She asked him to take care of everyone, and we would call as soon as we could.

We grabbed a few things and then drove over to get Julie. The EMT's had left, but I could see the flashing lights up the road a couple of miles.

Julie was trying to be a rock, but Beth got in back with her and held her as she cried.

We made surprisingly good time, arriving in less than 25 minutes. I dropped the girls off at the emergency entrance and looked for parking. When I caught up with them, they were waiting in one of those family waiting rooms. The kind where bad news is discussed privately.

It was almost 45 minutes before the door opened. It was a nurse. Very apologetic, but she needed to get some information for Admitting. She really tried to get through it with minimal questions. She clearly knew it was not what anyone wanted to do at such a moment.

A few minutes later, a doctor came in and approached Julie. We pulled a couple of chairs together.

"Mrs. Barnes, I'm Dr. Brzezinski, your husband's attending physician. I don't have all the answers, but I can tell you we believe Hank had a serious stroke during the night. During the trip up here, his breathing began to fail, so he arrived here on oxygen. I need to be painfully clear with you. His condition is extremely critical. He seems to be losing basic life functions, so I've ordered an EEG exam to check on brain activity. That's supposed to happen within the next hour. I know this is hard to sit here and wait, but I can't even allow anyone in to see him yet."

I thanked the doctor and went over to console the two women, who were both crying.

"Can I get anything for either of you?"

They wanted water. I had to check at the desk, and the nurse there said she would have someone bring several bottles. Within a couple of minutes, those arrived.

We sat and talked, but it was a strain on all three of us. I called Nate and talked with him for a few minutes, just to give him the update. He said he had called Megan, and she and Preston had arrived.

It was over an hour later when Dr. Brzezinski returned.

"Mrs. Barnes, I have the results of the EEG. It seems clear the stroke was major and cut off blood to a substantial area of his brain. There is no upper brain activity. By that we mean the functions of reasoning, thought, and voluntary movement. All we see are the brain stem functions that regulate automatic life functions, like the heart and breathing.

"Unfortunately, even that activity appears to be failing. I'm so sorry, but Hank is going to pass away soon. We need to talk about how you want us to proceed, and then I'd like to invite you and Beth to come back and see him."

I spoke up.

"Just to clarify, when you speak of how Julie wants you to proceed, you're really asking about whether she wants you to try to keep him alive as long as possible."

The doctor turned to Julie.

"Do you know whether Hank has signed an advance health care directive, sometimes referred to as a living will?"

Julie nodded.

"I grabbed it as we ran out the door. We just did this a few weeks ago. Hank does not want to be kept alive artificially. He was adamant about that. There is no chance of recovery is there?"

He shook his head slowly. "No, I'm sorry. There has been too much damage from the stroke."

She handed the document to Dr. Brzezinski.

"Thank you for bringing this. I'll have a nurse scan this for our records and bring it to you. Would you like to come with me now? Ryan, you may come as well, of course."

We all went in to see Hank. I was fighting back the tears but almost lost it when Julie turned to me and put her head on my shoulder and sobbed. It was breaking everyone's heart.

A nurse came in and quietly gave Julie's document back to her. I saw the doctor standing in the hallway, so I went over to him.

"I'm guessing you need authorization to remove life support."

He nodded. "Yes but let them take all the time they need. Will you step into that office when they're ready and have the nurse there page me?"

I nodded.

I went back with Julie and Beth.

After a few minutes, they seemed ready to deal with the paperwork.

"Wait here for a minute while I have the doctor paged."

Five minutes later the doctor came in and led us to another small waiting room.

"I have some forms I need to have you sign. Look, this is painful. Blame it on the attorneys, but I need you to sign that you want the life support removed and that you understand removing it will likely result in his death."

Julie signed.

"Can I sit by him?"

"Of course. It will be a few minutes and then a nurse will come in and remove the breathing support and the various drug drips. You won't need to leave for that."

We went back in and sat. Just as the doctor described, a nurse came in quietly and told us we were welcome to stay. She disconnected everything and rolled a cart out of the room. There was only a monitor showing heart rate and breathing.

As we watched, his breathing slowed. Then his heart rate. Finally, his heart stopped and an alarm went off. A nurse rushed in and turned it off.

It was silent, except for two women sobbing quietly.

I stepped out into the hall and called Nate. I asked him not to tell anyone but Megan and Emily until we got back.

I stepped across the hall and had the doctor paged.

"Thank you, Dr. Brzezinski, I appreciate how kind you've been in delivering crushing news. Is there anything else we need to do?"

"We just need to know what funeral home you plan to use."

"Griffiths, and he'll be buried at Highland. That's where his first wife is buried."

I went back into the room and got the women out to the car.

--(--)--

It was largely quiet in the car as we drove. Then, out of the blue, Beth told the story of her asking me to spank her after I had tied her down and as we were doing it doggy style, and how Hank embarrassed us masterfully the next morning.

She removed the plug in the dike, and there was this outpouring of funny experiences with Hank. We laughed until there were tears to wipe away. One would have thought we were on our way to a raucous party, but it was a release we needed.

--(--)--

We laid Hank to rest next to Mary. Julie told me she has a plot next to her first husband.

Beth and I walked around the cemetery as she pointed out ancestors. I stopped by a grave from the late 1800s, but Beth didn't know how Jacob and Esther Barnes fit in their family history.

"Beth, I hope this is a long way off, but I would like to be buried here, next to you. This cemetery is part of our farm's story."

She nodded through her tears.

The day after the funeral, I sat with Julie at her home.

"Julie, I want to reassure you that you're family. This home is yours. You are Grandma Julie to our kids. Please don't think for a moment it's different than that."

"Thanks, Ryan. I don't want to leave here. I'm now so grateful Hank and I had Kirsten. Oh, Ryan, I need to give you this copy of Hank's will. We talked about it so there are no surprises there for me. You'll see that I'm to keep my 25% of the farm LLC, and you and Beth will own the other 75%. I have no worries. I know you'll take care of me.

"However, this was done just weeks before Amanda and Nate got engaged. I think Hank will want you to eventually give a small part of your shares to Nate, but that's totally up to you."

"Thanks, Julie. I guess I should say something else. If you ever decide to remarry and need to move away, you do what's best for you and Kirsten."

That night, I held Beth in my arms as she cried.

--(--)--

It was strange getting used to farming the land that I always viewed as his. This farm, without Hank? As difficult as that was for me, there was the growing realization that everyone now looked to me for direction. However, I also came to realize Hank had prepared me well.

In a sense that realization surprised me, but mostly my confidence grew. I knew I had Beth at my side, and between us, we could manage the family farm well.

The next season would be the first under new management.

--(--)--

Nate was within weeks of graduating with his associates degree in agriculture management when Beth and I decided the ground was ready for planting. He talked to his professors and took three days off from school each of the two weeks.

Nate and I drove the big planters when he was there. On the two days each week he was not there, Megan came over and drove a planter. Beth had the trucks of bags of seed, and Emily drove the tractor with the fuel trailer.

We were all grateful when, four days after we completed the planting, we got a nice steady rain for several hours. As soon as the corn was about six inches tall, we planted the cowpeas row crop.

It was fun attending Nate's graduation. He had not been an outstanding student in high school, but he flourished at the community college. His name was flagged in the commencement program as one who was in the top 5% of his class. Not just the Ag program. All graduates.

He was also full of ideas, and we talked about a lot of them. He picked four he wanted to run field tests on, each on one half-section. At my insistence, Nate kept a careful log of which half section was undergoing what test. We wanted to be able to compare the yield in each with the other half-section.

I also told Nate he would be in charge after the harvest of collecting soil samples to send off for testing, and to make recommendations based on the reports he got back.

Meanwhile, we loved getting to know Amanda and having them in our home. She was pretty and blond and had an unexpected wicked sense of humor that appealed to me.

Beth and I were also talking about a home for them. I met with Mitch and walked the old Wilson property with him. There were a few big trees, and Mitch wanted to position the house to the north of them, so their shade in the summer would help keep the home cool. I liked it because it also left the northern view open to the fields.

One evening, before the sun was down, we asked Amanda and Nate to drive over to that property. We got out and walked toward the trees.

"When Beth and I were about to get married, and after Beth told Hank she wanted to be the 6th generation of the family to farm the land, he took us over to where our home stands now. The architect he used, and we have used since on a couple of projects, came over here with me a few weeks ago, and we picked out this site. Beth and I are going to build you a home here."

I started unrolling the plans and had Beth hold the other side.

"We're going to build a single-story home, plus a basement. The original construction will be three bedrooms and two full bathrooms and a nice big kitchen. We're going to plumb for a future full bath in the basement, and there is room there to easily build out three more bedrooms."

I looked over at the tears in their eyes and flashed back to being in their shoes. That reminded me of one more detail.

"When Hank built our home, he told my dad what he was doing, and invited Dad to split the cost of furnishing the home, including the appliances. Amanda, I've spoken with your father over the past few weeks. Your parents are going to split the cost with me as mine did with Hank, and you get to do the shopping. Once the home is under construction, I'll give you a list of what appliances are needed, and you can go pick them out. Later, we'll talk about furniture."

--(--)--

We weren't eager to get them out of the house, but they were noisy in bed, and we had moved them next to our bedroom to give them more space. Beth and I laughed, having been that way around Hank and Mary, for which we sometimes took some hilarious ribbing.

I had a construction crew come and dig for the basement and foundations, starting in early July. By mid-September, the roof was on.

Our attention shifted to the harvest. Beth chose the newest combine, of course, and I asked her to be the lead combine. Emily, who was now 17, got another new one and followed Beth. Nate and Victoria also drove combines and, this being Victoria's first year, I placed her ahead of Nate. She insisted on being called Victoria; never Vickie.

We decided to harvest with four combines that year and not pay for any outside help. I managed the grain trucks, and discovered Amanda also knew how to do that and could drive one of the big rigs to the co-op. That was a pleasant surprise, and she appreciated being in the middle of things.

Each day at about lunch time, Julie and Kirsten showed up in what had been Hank's F-350, loaded with sandwiches and drinks for all. We often stopped for a few minutes to walk around and relax as we ate. Every other day, we brought both fuel trucks out and filled the combines.

On mornings when Nate knew we would be harvesting one of his test fields, he would hand us each printed reminder. Our practice was to harvest the two halves separately and rely on the two newest combines to estimate the yields. We would start the other half of that section with empty hoppers in those two combines.

Nate was excited one morning.

"Yesterday, we did one of my test fields and it appears to have produced about 12% more than the other half of that section."

We all cheered and congratulated Nate. I was proud of his success. I also appreciated his report to me at the end of the harvest. Three of the test fields produced slightly higher yields, but the differences were not significant to justify the cost. We decided together to use his successful test on two entire sections the next year.

As usual, the harvest was a series of long and exhausting days, but in the end we were thrilled. We had averaged 272 bushels per acre. The price of corn wasn't great, but it was better than the prior year. Our revenue worked out to $1,198 per acre, against $907 expenses.

Since we were paying more for diesel and getting less for the corn than in many years in the past, I was thrilled with our profit of $291 per acre. We deposited about $8.5 million in the bank and paid off the harvesting expenses. We had held back about 150,000 bushels of corn we held in the silos and would sell later. I kept hoping for an uptick in the off season price. Sometimes we got it.

Julie hosted our harvest celebration. Megan and Preston came as well, with Jeffrey, and announced they were expecting a little girl in May. When they made that announcement, Amanda looked at Nate, and he stood to tell everyone they were also expecting a baby in May, a little boy.

I looked around the tables (we needed three now), and stood to give a little speech, but my eyes were filled with tears. I laughed and wiped them aside.

"I'm sorry to be so emotional right now, but I can't help but remember when Beth and I were graduating from college and Megan was about to make her appearance. Now I look around this table, and although we sorely miss Hank, Beth and I count five children, two of them now married, one grandchild and two more on the way. That will make twelve of us."

At that point, Beth stood next to me and kissed me on the cheek. She stood there with her arm around me.

"Well, since we've had two announcements today, I was suspicious recently and decided to check."

She reached in her pocket and pulled out a First Response pregnancy tester and showed it to me.

"I don't know anything more than that, but your father has planted another future harvest. When things got busy during the sweet corn harvest, I missed a couple of days of birth control pills, perhaps three. My doctor said that probably made them 8-10% less effective, but I think the correct number is 100% less effective."

Everyone laughed and stood to hug Beth.

"Some of you may be disappointed that we will end next year with 13, rather than 12 in our family. You may feel 12 is a grand number, an interesting number, even a symbolic number, but I assure you, your father prefers 13. Don't you, dear?"

"It's a prime number," I said.

I leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Any idea when I laid siege to your egg?"

She whispered back. "I think it was the night you tied me to the bed and had your way with me. Ironically, it was August 13th. A day we both got lucky."

To our surprise, Julie stood next. I was momentarily nervous.

"No, I'm not announcing a baby. I just wanted to thank all of you for your love. As many of you know, my first husband and I never had children. I didn't think I could. Now, I have this big family, I have Kirsten, my own daughter, and each of you. While I miss Hank, I get to have all of you to remind me of his love."

--(--)--

That was an eventful year, and by the time of our next harvest dinner, Beth had an IUD.

We had finished Nate and Amanda's home, and they had moved in. Beth and I slept more soundly, but did not make love as often, now that they weren't waking us with Amanda's cries of passion.

Beth gave birth to a baby boy, and we named him Henry, but called him Hank. Megan gave birth to Amelia, shortened to Amy as a nickname, and Amanda had her first, a cute little boy they named Ryan, after me.

Emily graduated from high school that year and headed up the road to Nebraska in Lincoln. She wanted to study English and to emphasize American Literature.

Victoria was thrilled to drive her own combine again that year. It was a good year, with just over a hundred dollars an acre of profit. Yields were up slightly, the price of corn was down. The cost of diesel was up, and the irrigation cost was slightly above average.

Nate's two-acre test outperformed the rest, so we adopted it for our entire crop the next season.

Life moved on. We kept five combines because they were all paid for. We harvested with four, but almost every year we used that fifth one when there was a mechanical problem with one of the others.

We didn't buy any more land. There were always pivots to repair, land to level, discing of the fields to get the nutrients into the soil, and grandchildren to take for rides on tractors.

Julie came to me one night in tears. I thought something was wrong and put my arms around her.

"Tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Ryan. Really. I met a man recently. A nice man. He teaches at the Beatrice Campus in the Ag program, and Nate set me up with him."

That was news to me.

"His wife died two years ago. We're going to get married, and I'd like him to live here and become part of our family."

"So, what's the problem? That sounds wonderful. In fact, let's go out to dinner next week so we can meet him."

"I'd like that. His name is Roger Shankford, and he's a year away from retiring. He grew up on a corn farm, so I think he'll fit in. In fact, I think he'd like to drive a combine again."

Later I drove over to Nate's. I pounded on the door. When he opened it, I was ready.

"What have you done?"

"What ...?"

I laughed and told him about his greatest success yet on our farm. Matchmaker for his grandmother. He was thrilled and told me all about Roger.

The next week, Beth and I had dinner with them and sat and talked and laughed for two hours afterward.

"Roger, there's something you should know about me. I'm a first generation farmer, but I married over my head. Beth is the sixth generation of the Barnes family to farm this land, and everything I know about driving a combine, I learned from her. Hank taught me to become a farmer. Our son, Nathan, will be the 7th generation.

"I hold a degree in math, but now I'm managing 13 sections of corn. I'm ready to listen if you have any suggestions. Oh, and Nate has the sign-up sheet for a seat in a combine. I've heard he takes bribes."

Julie and Roger were married, and Julie sometimes sent Kirsten over for a sleepover with Anna, because they had become best friends, and because, knowing Julie, she probably wanted to ride Roger into the mattress. He seemed to smile a lot.

Julie called me one day and asked me to drop by.

"Ryan, I've been slow in cleaning out some of Hanks things, and I came across these. What are they?"

I laughed until it hurt as I told her the story of tying Beth to our dining table, but leaving two of the ties there, tied to table legs. Julie wiped away tears at my description of Mary staring at them and then simply asking Beth for the link online.

"I suspected that might be what they are. I can think of a use for them."

Of that I had no doubt. Beth agreed when I told her the story.

That incident had repercussions as well, because the next night, Beth tied me to the bed and had a lot of fun with me. Unfortunately, I got too noisy, and Anna knocked on the door, wondering whether I was ok.

"He's fine, Anna. I was just helping to get a nasty sliver out of his foot."

"Oh, ok. Thanks, Mom. I hope you feel better, Dad."

I certainly did.

--(--)--

True to his word, Roger retired the next summer and that Fall he drove one of our combines. It was Beth, Nate, Victoria and Roger on the lineup card, while I managed the transport fleet with Amanda and a driver we hired so Amanda could shuttle trucks to the co-op. I wanted her handling the receipts.

Anna was now our food services runner working for Julie.

As I drove parallel to Beth one afternoon, watching as she began positioning her augur to empty her hopper, I thought about what attracted me to this land, so many years ago. I had to stop and think carefully to figure out how many, but I knew the answer about what attracted me.

Family. A family farm. Back then, that meant something different to me. It was land a family had owned and farmed for generations. A rich tradition. While that much was true, it was so much more.

We raised corn, and thousands of tons of it. In many ways, our most important crop was our family. Inseparable from the land.

"Hey!"

It was Beth on the radio.

"Did you go to sleep over there? I finished. You need to drop back to Victoria's now."

"I love you Beth. I was just thinking about the time you rode me as I drove the combine."

I forgot it was an open radio.

"What?"

I heard that from Victoria and Nate, along with a lot of laughter. Roger clicked on long enough to tell us to get a room.

I glanced over at Beth. She was laughing and shaking her head. Mother of six and she could still light my fire.

I slowed and matched Victoria's speed.

"Ummm, Dad, I think you need to explain more about that over dinner tonight."

"Did I hear you say you want 'the talk'?"

"Never mind."

There was a lot of laughter over the radio and a few jokes at Victoria's expense.

--(--)--

Two weeks after the harvest ended, Emily arrived in a car driven by a young man, an accounting graduate name Nelson. Emily showed off her ring. They were marrying that Christmas and moving to Kansas City, where he had been hired by a large accounting firm.

I understood what Hank meant when he described his love for the land, but I'm certain for him it was the same as it now was for me. It was the land on which we sweated and froze and worked long days together and loved each other.

And made love. That night with Beth, for example. Too many watched her combine, so I sat on a chair while she rode me.

The End