Tate’s grip wasn’t as bone-crushing as his father’s, but it was rigid all the same. Sunlight glinted on the sunglasses hooked to his shirt. “Sorry to show up out of the blue. Figured I’d have a better chance finding you out here than at the house. Unfortunately, I’m not here for a social call, either.”

Hadn’t figured he was. “If this is about the land—”

The older man gave a stiff shake of his head. “No, it’s about a little pranking spree my son and some of his friends got off to the other night. I’m afraid yours is one of the farms they hit.”

Oh, the goats in the yard. Melba and the chickens.

“Wanted to offer my personal apology. And I’m going to make sure my boy comes by to do the same soon as he’s back from his mom’s next week.”

“Well . . . thank you. I appreciate that.”

Another taut nod and Tate turned. But he stopped at his truck door. “Since you brought up the land, I heard my father paid you a visit. Heard you turned him down flat.”

Guess the man’s ears worked just fine. “True.”

“What I can’t figure out is why. I’m sure it’s gutting to hear it, but you’ll kill yourself trying to keep this place afloat on your own, MacKean.”

“I’m not on my own.” Except . . . except if he were brutally honest with himself, there were times when he felt like he was. He loved Maggie and his sisters more than anything, but at the end of the day, he did shoulder most of the weight of this place.

“You don’t have to do everything on your own, Neil.”

But what was he supposed to do? Ask Lil and Indi to step back from the careers they loved? Burden Maggie with financial woes?

“Heard you might be out a harvester, too.”

His focus tore back to Tate, suspicion—possibly illogical, but born out of frustration—forming words before he could stop them. “And you wouldn’t know anything more about that, would you? Any chance your boy’s been doing more around here than unlatching gates?”

Tate took a step back. “What’re you trying to insinuate, son?”

Son. Tatum Carter had tossed that word at him too. Tate’s use of it rankled every bit as much. “Two pieces of equipment shot in one week. Can you blame me for wondering?” Not that he’d seen a single sign of tampering. But there had been those footprints last week. That idling car the weekend before.

“I know my boy. He might be a little wild, but he wouldn’t—”