The time was nearly eleven when she returned to the cab. A young boy on a pickup tailgate asked his grandfather whether the green machine was going to work. The grandfather said he did not know, then added, "But she's asking better questions than the last fellow who tried." Martha heard the last part through the open window and felt its weight without allowing it to distract her. Being a novelty was tiring. Being observed was tiring. She wanted a machine, not a lesson for strangers. Still, June's eyes shone when she heard it, and Martha thought perhaps the lesson was worth something too.
The starter turned cleanly. At first there was only the sound of the engine rotating and the faint rattle of its exhaust system. Then one uneven cough broke through, a single combustion event that startled a group of men who had been arguing over a grain cart. Martha released the key before the starter overheated. Through the window she saw June's mouth fall open. Calvin had stopped speaking to a bidder. He was looking toward the combine as though a voice had called him by name.
"That was it," June said when Martha climbed down.
"That was one cylinder saying hello," Martha replied. "We need the rest to join it."
June laughed for the first time all morning. Martha allowed herself a breath, and with the breath came a memory of her father's shop, her hand on the starter switch of an old hay baler while Leonard explained what the first rough sound meant. She remembered his patience, the way he never confused a promising symptom with a completed repair. "Machines will give you hope," he used to say. "Check whether they can pay for it." She took the notebook and marked the new observation beside the time.
Around them, the audience grew. A few people from the neighboring machinery row walked over when word spread that the women had made the supposedly dead John Deere turn. Calvin appeared beside the service panel, looking at the open notebook rather than at Martha. "Now you're going to say it's all fixed," he told her. "Just like that."
"No," Martha said. "I'm going to say we found two faults and the engine still won't run."
He looked briefly frustrated by her refusal to boast. "Good. Because I know what I promised, and I know you're not getting it with a little cough."
"Thirty seconds at idle before noon," Martha said. "I know what you promised too."
June watched Calvin walk away. "He wants us to fail."
"He wants his guess to be right," Martha said. "Sometimes people care more about that than the truth."