The Billion-Dollar Dirt Farm

erson ranch was surprising

ins, sole owner, using the b

documents but didn't say anything. The story of my public breaku

the town square, arguing heatedly near the war memori

ear each o

r' s parents, staunch church-goers mortified by the sc

face, th

ed house on Elm Street, the one

' name, but everyone knew

agement a week later. A

eryone they were fine,

arm possessively around Brenda, both o

a small, new e

casional shifts, his old pickup truck (still unfixed) sputterin

ubbing my nose in their

miled to

The pretty, renovate

of "worthless"

et. A very, very

nd it wasn't going to be