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the long odds were against the fight, but anything could happen, and Sophie was responding to treatment and chemo would start soon. Other than the pesky surgery complications, she was doing great. She’d known people who’d beat this disease and if anyone could, this brave young mother would. Sophie had endured two deadbeat husbands. She could whip a disease.
    Sophie caught her hand and held on tightly. Jules could feel the tremble, both in her heart and Sophie’s fingertips. “You keep praying,” she whispered. “God’s mercy is the only thing that’s going to pull me through this.”

Chapter 12

    A rriving back at the farm, Jules got out of her vehicle and headed straight for the tool shed. Tub five plant was practically shooting out of the container, so much so Jules couldn’t wait to see the product. An ordinary potato would be months away from harvest, but judging by the sheer size of the tub plant, Jules had a hunch if she gave in to her curiosity she’d find a sizable potato under the dirt. She reached for her trowel and turned when Crystal appeared in the doorway.
    â€œHi. I thought I heard you drive in.” Her sister picked her way through the crowded tool shed, side-stepping picks and rakes. Jules gaze swept the small area. Pop had three different size lawn mowers in here, one that didn’t run, one that did, and one that he refused to discard. The stench of oil and pesticide hung in the air. Crystal paused before the tubs of dirt. “Why are you growing potatoes in tubs? Isn’t a couple hundred acres enough for you?”
    Stepping around her, Jules pulled on her gloves. “They’re experimental plants.”
    â€œLike how?”
    â€œLike, they’re different from the others, Crystal.”
    Her sister eased around the tubs, studying the shoots. “What are you trying to grow?”
    â€œFrench fries. Pull them out of the ground, heat them, and they’re ready to eat.”
    Crystal’s gullible side flared. “You could do that?”
    â€œOf course not.” Jules left the fifth tub alone and started on the smaller ones. Crystal didn’t need to know about her experiment. No one did. After a spiral notebook full of failures she expected more of the same, no matter how good tub five looked. “Where are the kids?”
    â€œNapping.” Crossing her arms, Crystal leaned against a rickety potting table. “How’s Sophie today?”
    Jules stuck a trowel in the dirt. “Weak, but she’s coming along. I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t get to come home soon.”
    â€œReally?” Crystal’s features softened. “But stage three, Jules. That means it’s spread —”
    â€œAnd that’s the reason she’ll go through radiation.” Jules rammed the tool into the dirt and loosened the soil. Sophie had years ahead of her with proper treatment. “When did you become such a pessimist? Didn’t Mom take you to church — teach you the power of faith?”
    â€œNot often. Mom was a free-spirit. She drew her strength through the things God provides. The wind, trees, and all living things. She didn’t trust people.”
    Jules straightened to face her. “Mom didn’t believe in God?”
    â€œShe did, Jules. She didn’t believe in religion. She believed God was God and his ways, though different from ours, need no explanation, and someday, if it’s important, we’ll understand why some prayers are answered and others aren’t.”
    Jules dropped her gaze back to the potato plant. Well, the reasoning wasn’t exactly flawed. “What was Mom like?”
    Crystal smiled. “You don’t remember her?”
    â€œI remember her.” Jules had lain awake nights picturing the blonde, petite woman who always smelled of Red Door perfume. “I remember her soft voice when she came in at night to hear our