“We’ve found Pa a place near the coast. That’s where I’ve been all day. It’s a good facility that is faith-based. He’ll probably be moved there the beginning of next week, so chew on that.”

Pixy hobbled up the steps, oinking in what sounded like agreement. She went right over to Peg and rutted until plopping down between his feet.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Peg confessed quietly.

“Can you fly with only one leg?” I asked.

His head popped up, his long locks flopping in his eyes. “There’s hand control, Ox.”

“Then you ain’t got any reason to be saying you can’t. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, and I won’t allow your aggravating butt to pass on it.”

“Austin’s right,” Jinx interjected. “And none of us is gonna let you pass on it.”

And just like that, we were heading inside to pack Peg’s bags so he could pursue a dream.

It amazed me right then and during the months to come how God answered my prayers in ways I’d not trusted him enough to handle. I had begged God for years to heal Pa, to protect my siblings, and to give us a life outside of the shadows we hid behind out on Nolia Farms. Growing weary, I’d concluded that I wasn’t being heard. Or that I was just flat-out being ignored.

God proved me wrong. In his own timing, he answered me far greater than I could ever have imagined.

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The fancy packet sat on the dining table for another month. Between nearly having to beat Peg to get on the blame airplane to head off to the aviation academy and then coming to terms with Pa having to stay at the facility he was in for at least three more months before he could come home, my mind had been too preoccupied to wonder what was inside.

No one wanted to come home to the farm until Pa could return, so that left me mostly living on my own at the house. Mid-September, I sat at the table one night staring at the packet. Giving in, I opened it and immediately picked up the phone to call Vance.

“Hello.”

Needing a moment to simply take in his rich voice that always sent warmth through me, I didn’t immediately respond. Clearing my throat, I whispered, “It’s me. Austin.”

“Hey, beautiful. Everything okay?”

I stretched the cord and leaned to grab the stack of papers. “What’s with this filled-out application for Baptist College at Charleston?”

There was some shuffling on his end and then a muffled groan, sounding like he was settling into a chair and readying himself for a debate. “You deserve a chance to explore different career avenues besides farming.”

Hackles raised, I stood straighter. “What’s wrong with farming?”