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“This land is barely worth the paper the deed is written on just now—that’s why the bank wouldn’t help us. But...yeah, in the longer term, it’s probably worth more than I borrowed.” He shifted awkwardly, then dropped his voice as he admitted, “It’s just that Judge Nagle wasn’t keen at first. He likes me, but he’s shrewd, you know? I had to show him that I was serious about this. But he wouldn’t really take the farm. He’s a good man, and besides which, it’s not like he’s short of cash. What would he want with this place?”
“Daddy is not going to be happy about this.”
Henry shrugged, all calm and confident again.
“He doesn’t really have much choice. The judge drew up a contract and I signed it right away. Betsy is going to go to the bank when it opens tomorrow and she’ll deposit the check into Daddy’s account.”
My parents’ bedroom door was closed when I got out of bed the next morning, and I had a feeling Dad might not make it out of bed that day. I went out to use the washroom, but while I was there, I heard Dad and Henry shouting. I ran back to the house just as the bedroom door slammed again, and a defiant Henry stomped down the hall, joining Mother in the kitchen.
“What did you do, Henry?” Mother whispered, visibly upset. He raised his chin stubbornly.
“You’ll see,” he told us both. “Everything will turn around next season. That money is going to save us.”
Maybe Daddy was worn down by the dry and the hopelessness, or maybe he knew Henry had ultimately done the right thing, because as much as he grumbled, Daddy didn’t even try to give that money back to the judge.
