Chapter 13
Jack’s work boots were covered with the red Georgia clay that a steady downpour of rain had turned into mud. The rain had finally stopped, but the construction site was knee-deep in the red stuff.
He looked up at the sky, at the sullen clouds that threatened more rain, and growled a curse. “All right, all y’all. Looks like we won’t be getting anything more done today, so I’m calling it a week. Go on home.”
“Okay, boss. See ya on Monday.”
He waved and watched as his construction crew locked their tools away in the gang boxes, slogged through the mud to their pickup trucks and four-wheel drives, and called, “S’long,” to each other as they drove off.
Jack walked over to his own pickup. In spite of the damp, he was feeling warm. He’d have to turn on the air conditioning. Sure
