There was only one place Lucas truly felt at home. One place that could give him peace. He had been outside since before sunrise, looking, breathing.

In its glory days the farm had been vast. Fields of corn, cotton and alfalfa, a peach orchard, an acre of huge, ancient pecan trees. Not to mention pasture for the cows. He could remember when he was little, when his grandfather was still alive, riding in the truck, bumping over the rutted dirt roads to check on fences and waterings. The first shoots of spring, breaking through the dark soil. The surprising sting of the electric fence, and his grandfather’s laughter when Lucas touched it.

Life had changed after his grandfather died. Lucas’ dad wasn’t a farmer. He might’ve made a manager, in another life. An office-worker. He was good at delegating. But he didn’t have a passion for the land.

Many of the fields had been left to grow fallow. The herd of Jerseys whose pale flanks had dotted the grassy hills had thinned and disappeared, like dry leaves blowing away. There were still chickens. You could still harvest figs from twisted branches. People still came for the muscadines, paying to pluck them off the vines; the berries were also a good seller. And nothing in nature would bring down those pecan trees.

But it wasn’t a farm anymore. Not like Lucas remembered.

It didn’t bear thinking about. His father didn’t care. You don’t want to be a farmer, Lucas. It takes a different kind of man to do that. A hard man, a man who doesn’t see the world like we do.

He’d never been sure what his father meant by that. He’d always been afraid to ask. Sometimes it felt like he was waiting for his father to go away—not die, he wasn’t morbid or vengeful—but to find something else in life that interested him so much that he decamped, leaving it all to Lucas.

For now, though, he needed to be out here, to soak it up, to breathe the scent of the moist soil, to crush it in his fingers, and let the farm be the center of his universe. Let it balance things out.

This healing peace was ruptured by a familiar voice.

“Your father told me I could find you out here,” said Ash.

It was like the world had tilted out of balance. Lucas had the sudden sensation he needed to plant his feet more firmly, so he wouldn’t fall over. The silence, the stability and safety had been broken by the intruder’s presence.

"I’ve got nothing to say to you, Ash."

"I know. Trust me, I didn’t want to come out here, any more than you want me here. But we need to talk.”

That was it. Any serenity that Lucas had been hoping for was all gone. He felt that tension in the back of his neck the same as he had during the wedding. There was nothing he could do about it.

You could throw him off your property. That might work.

He had an image in his head of picking Ash up…could almost feel the weight of him in his arms…and had to clear his head of those thoughts immediately.

"I think you said everything you needed to say back at the church, didn’t you?” Lucas wouldn’t look at him. He bent down and picked a piece of onion grass, rubbing it between his fingers, turning his fingertips green.

“Do you want an apology?” asked Ash. “Fine. I’m sorry for interrupting your friend's wedding. All better now?"

What was it about Ash that drove him insane? Was it how fake the apology sounded, as though it was just a formality to get past, so Ash could get to what he wanted to talk about? Or was it his audacity to come out here, after that scene yesterday?

“I’d tell you Crays aren’t welcome on Phelps land, but I’m too exhausted by the idea of rehashing all this bullshit again,” said Lucas.

Ash sighed. “I get that, okay? I don’t want to do it either. Whatever big threat and bluster you’ve got in mind, consider it said. I was an asshole. I falsely accused you.”

“You said you were going to destroy me. You may have forgotten that part.”

“I was mad,” said Ash.

“I was mad, but I wasn’t going to say a word to you until we were on neutral territory. It’s in the past, now. Water under the bridge.”

“Good. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

“So pack up your apologies and head on home.”

Ash winced. Whatever he was here for, it was obviously as hard for him to say as it was for Lucas to listen to. Finally Ash said, “We need to talk about our common enemy.”

“We don’t have anything in common, Ash. Your family has spent generation after generation making sure of that.”

“Look, just because we Crays decided to actually contribute to the world instead of— Oh, god damn it, Lucas, would you just let me say what I came here for? Who the fuck is buying our land? I want to find out. I want to stop them.”

Lucas looked away, towards the pine woods in the distance. Through those woods, out the other side, was the line of survey flags.

“What do you care?” asked Lucas. “You weren’t going to do anything with your side of it. Your money is all in stocks and bonds or whatever. Not like you and Callum are going to suddenly become farmers.”

Ash shook his head. “It doesn’t matter why I want to stop the sale, okay? None of your business. All that matters for the purpose of this conversation is, I want to stop it, you want to stop it, and we’ve got to figure out a way to do that. I need your help.”

“My help? Dude, you're the one with an army of lawyers and millions of dollars."

"Millions, did you say?" Ash’s tone was cutting and cold.

“Oh, I'm sorry, did I offend you? Is it billions now?"

Ash laughed. “Is that the problem here? Your overinflated idea of my net worth? Is that why you’re acting so offended and pissed off at me? You’re just jealous again? I’m surprised you don’t run off to Wall Street to become a stock broker, so you can beat me in that arena."

There were things you couldn’t say to people. Especially not people like Ash, people you’d had a long, tumultuous history with. Things that were hard to put into words. Lucas couldn’t explain logically why he was so pissed off. That wasn’t the way he worked. He wasn’t sitting there calculating all the rational reasons that Ash’s very presence made him angry.

The fact that you’re standing there, on my land, invading my space, makes me so tense and angry I want to shout…but how could I ever say that to you?

Truth was, Lucas had never been able to say the things he needed to say to Ash. There had been a time when he’d come close…so close. A time when the entire feud could have been averted. A time when ancient wounds could’ve been healed.

He’d blown it, back then. His one chance at bridging the gap between the Crays and the Phelps was gone, and it would be too embarrassing and painful to ever try it again.

If you can’t throw him out, then you’re going to have to talk to him.

“What’s your plan?” he asked.

Ash’s eyes widened. “Seriously? You’ll help?”

“I didn’t say that. I just want to know what you’ve got in mind.”

Ash had always been a different person when he got his way. Something changed in his posture, in his expression. Now he was in his element.

You always loved being the one in control.

“Your dad hasn’t told you who’s interested in the land,” Ash said. It wasn’t a question, just a statement of fact. “Tell me this, though, does he not know who wants to buy it?”

Lucas shrugged. “I’m not sure he cares. It’s hard to tell with my dad. He showed me the letter he got from a lawyer about it. It didn’t name any names. I don’t know if he’s asked any further.”

He wasn’t about to share his true feelings with Ash, his sense that there was something wrong with his dad, something devolved and unhealthy, like the strength of the Phelps had skipped a generation.

“My dad is positively delighted about it,” said Ash. “I think he would’ve been insulted if an actual person had offered to buy it up. He’d much rather it be some sneaky, hidden shell company in the Caymans or—”

It was something Lucas had never seen before. Ash caught himself, mid-sentence, and blushed.

He doesn’t want me to know how angry he is at his dad, Lucas thought.

What else does he not want me to know?

“So great,” he said, “neither of us knows anything. That doesn’t get us anywhere.”

Ash nodded, pressing his lips together. “Here’s where the help comes in. I’d like you to look through your father’s records. Look for letters, memos, contracts, anything that might hint at who the buyer is.”

“You want me to snoop on my dad.”

“That’s one way to put it,” said Ash. “If you need a nicer way to phrase it, give me a minute to think of one, but yes, I need you to do the research.”

“Do the research. Is that how you treat your dad, Ash? Are you rifling through his stuff?”

The way Ash froze made Lucas realize he’d crossed a line.

“I am not rifling through my father’s files,” Ash said coldly, “because they were all taken by investigators for his trial.”

Any other time Lucas might have made a jab. Archibald Cray deserved everything he got. Didn’t he? He had made Simon and Evan’s life miserable. He belonged behind bars.

Lucas had never stopped to think about what it might do to Ash, to see his father arrested.

How would it feel if the police came to the farm one day and picked up Dad?

He had a sudden vision of Ash, back in high school, all injured dignity and pride, trying to be brave.

Lucas didn’t like feeling sympathy for any Cray. It didn’t come naturally. They were a family of liars, cheats and swindlers. Their whole fortune was based on conning the county out of mineral rights, then using their money to crush everything else in their path. The fact that they’d moved from gouging holes in the hills, to creating electrical devices, didn’t change who they were as people, as a family.

When I spell it out like that, I have to admit it sounds harsh and overwrought, thought Lucas. Am I pissed off about something Ash’s great-great-grandfathers did?

Maybe it was just a habit. But that habit could trip him up if he didn’t watch out.

It was sinking in: The only way to save the Phelps land, was by working with a Cray.

It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll see what I can find.”

Ash nodded, his confidence back. Getting his way again. “Let’s meet up in my office, after hours. I don’t want Callum hearing about all this. We’ll go over what we found, and figure out what to do next.”

“This doesn’t mean we’re best buddies,” said Lucas. “You’re still poison to me. Making me spy on my own father.”

“Were you this much of a drama queen back in school?” asked Ash.

“Hey, I’m not the one throwing around words like destroy.”