“She’s superstitious,” Feely said with a noncommittal shrug. “And they’re at silage this week, so she won’t be taking him out of the field for a while.” “Great,” Hughie groaned. “We’ll just swelter so.” “You guys are so fucking weird.” I chuckled. “You seriously believe putting a little holy statue out in a field brings the good weather?” “You’re damn straight we do, city boy,” Gibsie shot back. “It’s one hundred percent effective. Same as when my nanny lights a candle for me before exams. It’s bulletproof.” I rolled my eyes. “Culchies.”
