Austin’s headache ran deep, and the four painkillers he’d taken with breakfast hadn’t touched the pounding behind his temples. If it wasn’t for his scratchy throat, he’d just take more pills, drink more caffeine, and find some sugar and hope for the best.
But as he climbed up to the seat of the tractor, he knew he was getting sick. He hated getting sick more than anything else. He dashed off a quick text to his mother, who had a couple dozen home remedies for sore throats and headaches, and he waited for her response before rumbling out to the fields.
His phone vibrated, but it wasn’t Austin’s mother.
He hissed out a sigh, but his eyes had already caught on his father’s message. What about Christmas Eve here in San Antonio?
Austin wanted to throw his phone as far as his muscles could g
