Grandma Harken loves her tomatoes. Apparently, a magical somebody does, as well. Grandma finds out who, and decides it is worth the trouble to right the wrongs involved.
The reason I'm writing up a short story is that I really enjoyed the world building. I inherited a love of trains from Dad, and the idea that trains just evolved into gods intrigues me. My favorite line in this story is "he said that his god thought letters were prayers and moved them as a kind of professional courtesy." Besides being used as the structure of the world, the trains have nothing to do with the plot. Vernon could have used a hundred other ways to color her southwestern setting.
I read the story because I read Vernon's blog, and she mentioned that it was available for free over at Apex, here.