“Well, forget it—there’ll be no leasing, neither! Not to no damn chemical company. This is a farm, not a doggam plastic mine!”
Bill still had no better sense than to try to argue with him—in that mood. Howard blew up and ordered them off the farm, forgetting he no longer was sole owner. But John, half behind him, nodded, troubled, and the boys arose reluctantly.
“Rain’s slacked off,” Howard said sullenly. “You shouldn’t have any trouble flying out.”
He went to his room where any spiteful comments from Fiantha could not be heard. He’d shared this peaceful oasis with Marian for so many years; before that it was his parent’s room. It was much as Marian had left it; he looked dully at the crocheted cover on the chair, the doily and vase of silk flowers. Looks like a preserved room in a damn
