Clem dreamt in hay fields.
His father had always said that a farmer’s life was too busy and too full to waste energy dreaming at night, and since he’d first started putting in serious hours of manual labour when he was fifteen, Clem had dreamt less and less whilst he slept. By the time he was twenty-one, the only thing he saw when he closed his eyes in the dark, was more dark. But even though the work on the ranch was never really ever done, there were always moments in the day to stand back an