He wanted to argue. But he saw the quiet fire in her eyes—the same fire his late wife had when she’d insisted on planting sunflowers the year the drought hit. He pushed back from the table. “Show me.”
The rain came two days later. Gentle. Persuasive. mustard cover crop seed
The first week, nothing died. The second week, the leaves stayed green. The third week, Silas knelt in the mud. He pulled up a single plant. The roots were white, clean, branching like a healthy lung. No knots. No lesions. No rot. He wanted to argue