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“Sounds familiar. Same shit, different war.”

Owen took hold of the straps on his side of the car and worked them free for Brad.

“Thanks for your service,” Brad said.

He sent a nod of acknowledgement Brad’s way. Brad returned it, then motioned to the back seat of the four-wheeler when it sat on level ground. Owen laughed.

“I haven’t been on the back of one of these since I was a kid,” Owen said. He pulled off his hat and ran his hands through his hair, dusting the long tendrils back off his face.

It really might be time for that haircut. Nothing too short, though.

“I’d offer you the wheel, but I don’t know you that well. I think maybe you should buy me dinner first,” Brad teased.

Owen laughed again. “Seems dangerous to put me behind you, then, don’t you think?”

Both men chuckled, but Owen slid onto the back seat of the machine and braced his hands on the wheel covers.

After a short ride, the men got to the downed fence and Owen slid off the seat before the engine came to a halt. He was glad he’d brought Brad back with him. The damage was worse than his original assessment of it, especially now that he’d had some time to process it. Hopefully, the spool of wire he’d brought would be enough. If it wasn’t, at least he had some newer stuff back in his barn, a short five-minute ride away with the four-wheeler.

Brad parked the vehicle and stepped back to survey the damage. He let out a low whistle that acknowledged the same measure of astonishment and confusion Owen’d had when he first saw it.

“Damn. You weren’t kidding,” he said.

Brad walked the same path Owen had earlier, and ran his hand along the post, letting the dirt play between his fingers, the same way Owen had. It gave Owen a small sense of satisfaction that his initial instincts about how to go about assessing the damage was correct. He was learning quickly.

“You’re right about the bear, too,” Brad added, holding up small tufts of black fur between his fingers. “A male, by the looks of it. Just be glad you didn’t come up on him trying to get in here. He probably wasn’t in the best mood when he found that ol’ razor wire.”

To emphasize his point, he put on a thick glove he’d pulled from his pocket and held up a handful of the wire. It had a small dusting of hair on it that Owen had somehow missed. Brad was right. His timing had been pretty good, considering.

“Think it can be fixed?” Owen asked. He tried not to let too much optimism creep into his voice, but he didn’t want to risk more damage to his land if he had to leave this section open.

“Oh, hell yeah. It’ll be a bitch, but I’d wager it’ll only take the two of us a couple hours or so.”

“Can you spare that time?”

Brad laughed, and Owen caught a smidge of mire in the sound.

“Yeah. Julia’s rearranging the living room this morning with finds from her job she snagged ‘on sale,’ so this is preferable. I should thank you, actually.”

There was no missing the sarcasm. Owen would tuck that away till later. He recalled the way Brad’s girlfriend had touched him at the welcome home party for Paige, guessed her innocent act didn’t get past Brad based on how he talked about her.

“I do what I can. If you need it, I’m sure I can drum up a few things to keep you busy this afternoon,” Owen quipped, trying to keep it light.

“I’ve got work this afternoon, but thanks. I may take you up on that at some point.”

Owen smiled. They fell into a comfortable silence, each wordlessly taking lead at different points of the cleanup, then, when the debris from the felled posts was cleared, the start of the renovations.

Owen was surprised at Brad’s strength and resiliency. Brad must’ve helped his dad on the farm growing up, maybe even recently, with his ease around the physically demanding work and grime that accompanied it.

After two hours of moving, building, hammering and tending to scrapes and cuts from the old wire, the men sat down, breathless, sweat dripping from both their brows. They looked like they’d been in a battle with the bear responsible for the mess—especially after they got to the second part Owen had found in the back of the property, behind the blackberry bushes.

Owen lifted his shirt and wiped at his face and back, sopping up the moisture. Though the tree line partially shaded them, it was still hot like a sauna.

“Is that what got you the medical retirement?” Brad asked, taking a long draw from a gallon-sized water jug he’d brought with him.

Owen let his shirt fall. He wasn’t embarrassed about the scar but didn’t like talking about his old life.

“It is. Humvee meets IED. One guess who won that one.”