The air was crisp with a slight bite, but it held promise of gentler days to come. Overcast skies threatened rain and Trisha pushed the men to get the necessities done on the orchard before it held good to that threat.
Wiping a bead of sweat from her brow with her forearm, she glanced four rows over and was satisfied that Brad and Chuck were as far along as she. So were Eduardo, her dad, and Andrew two rows over. The other men were too far to make out.
Hefting another bag of fertilizer over her shoulder, she trudged through the pain from what she attributed to another pulled muscle and dropped the bag solidly next to the last tree in her row. Ripping it open, she used the spade to spread the nourishment around the base.
The conversation with her father last night was still bothering he
