Adam joined Harlan as he opened the half door to rummage in the back of the cab. “What are you looking for?”
Harlan shifted a big paper bag by its bottom (Adam heard the sounds of the truck’s heavy snow chains inside) and dragged a toolbox out of the way before finding his prize. He grinned at Adam in the anemic light of the truck interior. “You can’t have a farm truck without a chainsaw. Or at least, old Scout leader Jim can’t. Only one set of earmuffs, though, so stand clear. I don’t want Iris blaming me the next time you don’t listen.”
Soon the sound of the saw’s engine ripped through the air like the toothy chain ripped through the downed pine tree. It made Adam paranoid—who uses a chainsaw at night? But the better question was, who cares enough about that answer to investigate? No o
